The next day after Maria collected the little guy from school, I ran up the stairs and grabbed my stuff. I was running behind but figured there wouldn't be that many early birds. Training officially started at nine on the dot, but I'd noticed of late it was slipping to ten past...quarter past...I was hooking my bag from the floor when my phone went.
Glancing at the number, I groaned. This could only be bad.
"Is it true you told the bar he hated women?" Waller snapped without a greeting. I could feel the vein in his jugular pulsating down the phone.
"Am I dealing with a snitch now as well as overpaid lazy bastards?" I paced down the staircase to the ground floor and pressed the alarm on the wall as I stepped outside.
'Fuck, Rivers, you aren't making this any easier."
"What because I tell the truth?"
"He doesn't hate women." Waller didn't sound convinced, so I let out a derisive snort at his words.
I wanted to tell him that I knew firsthand how much he despised women, but I’d promised myself when I took the gig I was going to leave it in the past. Although, him acting like a prize tosspot daily was making that promise hard to keep.
Pulling open the car door and throwing in my bag I buckled my seatbelt, my phone under my ear. "I am yet to have him prove otherwise. To be honest, I don't know why you hired him. He's doing nothing for morale, he's impossible to work with, and basically, to be honest, he's a moron and you could have got two other decent players for the money he cost."
Waller hesitated and it made me wonder if he knew I was right. "He pulls in the crowds though and the sponsors, and that's what matters." I stuck my tongue out at the handset in my hand.
"More than winning, more than the team?" I fired back.
Waller sighed, and I turned the key in the ignition, contemplating the wide sloped driveway. I'd never moved the car while on the phone, so I kept the handbrake in place. "This management business is hard. I know this is your first coaching job, Lyssa, but it's all about balance: what's good for the business, the team, the bank balance. It all has to balance somehow."
I glared out of the window. Playing the game itself was much easier than this. At least when you were out on the field, your only focus was on the ball itself and where your teammates were. None of this political shit.
That's what it was. Political shit.
"I've gotta drive, I'll see you in a few, and we can discuss."
"Listen, Rivers. He's refusing to join the team today because of what you said. Maybe you should apologise."
My hands gripped the steering wheel. Was the man for real? "What? Is he a bloody child? Sammy's more mature than this." I wanted to bash my head against the steering wheel. The concussion would be better than dealing with that ignorant pig. "I'm not apologising for shit." I glared out of the windscreen like I could melt the glass with the fury of my gaze. My fingers drummed on the dash, and I wondered how satisfying they would feel to sting against the smooth skin of the Lion's face. Harsh, but it was the truth.
Waller sighed. "See you when you get here. We need to finalise the team for the first game."
"Yep." I pressed the red button. My instant reaction was to ring Betsy and mouth off, let go of some steam, but I knew she would already be in training. Women didn't mess around with this shit; they got it done.
Seriously, what was that idiot's problem? Was he trying to get me sacked? I mean I could see it going that way, he was obviously the cash cow in this situation, and I was far more dispensable than him.
Instead of ringing, and bitching, I put the car into drive and headed to work. Cattle had gone to the slaughter with more willingness.
How could we finalise the team when the captain wasn't even there?
His Mercedes SUV was pulling out of the car park when I drove in. An old Lancashire cap was pulled low over his eyes as he ignored some reporters nearby. If he recognised me in my little family run around, he didn't allow it to show as he spun his wheels on the tarmac.
The reporters did though, like flies acknowledge shit.
A phone was thrust under my chin as I grabbed my bag off the passenger seat. "Alyssa, how is training?"
"Fine, it's good. The Red Cats are going to be on fire this tournament." I repeated my standard go-to line like a robot, the words tasting like a bitter ash on my tongue.
"How's coaching compared to playing?" Ah it’s that question again. Another standard reply. I was considering recording my answers and hitting play every time I went to and from my car.
I nodded and tried to edge past. "It's different, but I love the challenge."
"Why did you retire again? Was it just the knee?" My back stiffened but I kept my smile frozen onto my face.
"That’s correct. Sadly the doctors said the damage was irreparable, so I had to make a hard choice." I forced a smile a bit wider before speaking again. "But the good news is the Red Cats are keeping me involved in the game that I love."
I managed to make it to the door and breathed a sigh of relief, but the reporter shouted through the glass door just as security stepped in between us to intercede. "Is it true that Jase Willis has threatened to quit if you stay on?"
I didn’t stop or turn around to answer. I walked straight to Waller's office, ignoring the boys waiting for me in the changing room.
"Is it true that he's threatened to quit, all because of me?" I slammed my bag onto the chair, but it slid onto the floor. I didn't pick it up. Instead, I leaned onto Waller's desk, my fingers splayed against the grained wood.
"Not as such."
"But...?" I prompted.
Waller scrubbed at his hair. I was sure it was getting thinner and greyer with every passing day. "He said he won't play while you are still here."
"This is total bollocks. I'm good at my job. I know what I'm talking about."
Of course, I was good at my job. I'd been the England captain and led us to world cup victory...But then so had he...
"Why doesn't he want a woman on the team?" It was more than obvious that sexist or not, my arrival in team Red Cat had seriously tipped the apple cart.
Waller rested his head into his hands. When he looked up at me he dragged his hands down his face, and it took a moment for his skin to bounce back up again. He looked like one of those dogs with the excess skin and the problems with stringy drool.
"He has his reasons." Waller's face shut closed like a clam.
"Is his reason the fact he is a twat?"
Waller flashed me a stern glare from under his greying brows. "You aren't making it easier."
I shoved my hands into the pockets of my chinos. "I didn't know I'd been hired to make things easy. I thought I was here to help you win?"
Waller shrugged. "I know that."
There was a pause of expectancy. "But now you want me to tell Willis that I’m sorry." I couldn't bear to say his name even out loud. To me, he was the Lion: beastly, unapproachable and downright dangerous.
"It may help."
For a whole minute, I was totally wordless. "This is ridiculous."
"I know, Lys, I know."
Blowing a gust of air out of my mouth I lifted my fringe out of my eyes. And then I chose to move on. The Lancashire Lion's problems were his own. I couldn't help what had been done to him in the past, whatever his reason was for being an obnoxious prick. In truth, what I'd been brought up to believe was that your problems were your own. You faced them and dealt.
I stood and brushed my hands down my top. "Fine."
"Fine?" Waller looked surprised.
"I'll apologise for what I said, but you know what? If I don't see him bowl or bat soon then I will be putting him on my bench list, and I don't give a damn who he is or what he has to say about it."
The changing room was a rowdy brawl when I arrived. These guys were like children if left unattended. I clapped my hands and waited for silence. "Okay."
They all looked at me expectantly. More than likely it was known I'd been called into Waller's office for a bollocking. I swallowed it down and focused on the job at hand. I would make these guys a decent winning team if it killed me.
"In the nets today, fifty balls each and expect to chat with me while you do it."
"Fifty?" there was a murmur around the benches.
"Want me to make it more?"
They all jumped, and we filed outside. Bailey fell into step at my side. "You okay?" he asked.
"Sure thing, hotshot."
I liked him. He was friendly and didn't hate me for being the wrong sex. It put him at the top of my good boy list. That was until he opened his mouth and said. "Do you fancy getting a drink with me later?"
My steps faltered. "Drink? just you and me?"
He laughed, and his white teeth glinted in the hot sun. "Well, yes."
I shook my head. "Thanks, but no. I don't think that's a good idea."
The briefest flash of annoyance swept across his face before he turned and grinned. "Figured you'd say that."
"Why'd you ask then?" I touched his arm and pulled him to a stop before we reached the nets.
He grinned. "I don't know." Stepping back, he pulled his practice shirt up over his head, revealing his smooth curved torso beneath.
Bloody hell.
"You don't mind do you, Lys?" he stretched and grinned. "I think I should work on my tan before we face the cameras."
Shaking my head, I laughed at him, and he prodded me with his index finger. "So vain," I said, but I was smiling for the first time in days.
I watched him walk to the nets, swinging a bat in his easy grip. He was not bad to look at after all, but I knew that having a drink with him would be the very worst of ideas. I was fighting for my place as it was without being seen to have favourites.
Shame, though, he really was not bad at all to look at, not at all.
We were half way through the practice when the speech of tyres signalled the return of the Lancashire Lion. He strode towards the nets, his tall, imposing body shifting like a lethal cat on the prowl for the kill. Blue pads lined his shins, and a helmet replaced his faded cap. I thought of my promise to Waller and before my legs could turn to jelly under the derisive ice of his stare or I could rip my tongue out at the prospect of what I had to do, I jogged over to him. His unwavering eyes focused on my face. The stare of a lion is truly terrifying.
"Listen, about the fact I said you hated women."
He didn't speak, he just waited. Arsehole. So, I blabbered on. "I didn't mean it, okay. Can we just move on for the sake of the team?"
There was the briefest pause where his pale blue eyes stared at me then he blinked and stalked right past me, pulling down the guard on his helmet with not a word muttered in my direction.
Fine. Just bloody fine, you goddamn sodding twat.
"Line me up." He demanded as he ground to a halt at the stumps. The machine activated, he growled, "fast," and the dial was turned to the highest bowl velocity.
The rest of the team and I sat back and admired his batsmanship as he smoked what would have been sixes outside of the confines of the net, with the fury of a battering ram.
We were walking back to lunch when he brushed past me. "Going to bench me now, Rivers?" His words were a scathing hiss that made a shiver crawl along my spine.
He didn't wait for a response and threw his helmet onto the equipment pile, heading into the building without a single word to his team.
Groaning, I shoved my hands in my pockets, Waller blabbed more than any girl I'd ever known.