The Princess and the Player

The small room got smaller the longer Liverpool’s management murmured behind their cupped hands. James could tell from their less-than-impressed faces that his agent’s opening pitch hadn’t won anyone over.

So maybe the comfort of the suit didn’t matter when your entire future was on the line.

Liverpool had expressed definite interest in picking up James if the price was right, according to his agent, but they wanted to move fast on making a decision.

James was not leaving here without that contract. It wasn’t about the money. It was about putting his mistakes behind him and gaining the opportunity to prove his loyalty to a club. He had to. To show Bella he was really the hero material she saw him as. To prove that he was worth all the trouble they’d gone through to be together.

James cleared his throat. “It’s obvious you have reservations about me. What are your concerns?”

The three suits on the other side of the table all stared at him with varying degrees of surprise. Why, because he didn’t subscribe to the British philosophy of keeping a stiff upper lip?

His sports agent, Spencer Stewart, shot him an annoyed glance and waved off James. “No one has reservations. We’re all professionals here. So, give us your best offer and we’ll consider it.”

“Yes, we’re all professionals,” James agreed. “But these gentlemen have every right to question my capacity to act professionally. Let’s call a spade a spade. I made mistakes. But I’m ready to be serious about my career and I want to play my heart out for a team willing to give me that chance.”

All at once, it occurred to him that Alma’s reserve team had already offered him that chance. And he’d turned his nose up at it. As if he was too good for what he considered the small time.

That didn’t sit well. No club owed him a spot on the roster.

Liverpool’s manager nodded slowly. “That’s fair. As is our original salary offer. The cap is a concern, after all.”

James kept his face straight, wishing he could argue. The cap was only a concern for a risky acquisition. They’d gladly pay the fines for going over the cap to gain a player with a less scandalous past. He’d have to take a pay cut if he wanted to play for Liverpool—and work twice as hard to earn it. Simple as that.

And he’d have to move to England.

A few days ago, he would have already been packed in anticipation of relocating as fast as possible. He could avoid his father for good. That conversation with dear old Dad about the agreements between Rowling Energy and the Montoros—the one he’d promised Gabriel he’d have—never had to happen.

Liverpool was the perfect solution to his relationship with Bella—if they had to lie low, what better place to do it than England?

But he couldn’t get enthusiastic about it all at once. Bella deserved better than to be required to hide their relationship because of his past. She shouldn’t have to move to England if she wanted to be with him, just because he couldn’t get another contract.

How had things grown so complicated so fast? The king of uncomplicating things was falling down on the job.

“I need some time to weigh my options,” James announced suddenly. Because he’d just realized he not only had options, he also had other people to consider outside of himself. “I appreciate the offer, and it’s generous under the circumstances. Mr. Stewart will update you soon on my decision.”

Liverpool wasn’t the right club for him. Not yet, maybe not ever. Not until he’d proven to everyone—Bella, his father, hell, even himself—that he could stop running away from conflict and deal with the consequences of his actions. He needed to be in Alma to do that. Permanently.

Actually, this wasn’t very complicated at all.

James loved football. He’d thought for so long that a professional league contract was his goal, only to find the game had completely changed on him. Bella had changed it. He wanted to be a better man for her. She was the best reason of all to find out whether he could finally stand up under extreme pressure and come out a winner.

James hurried to Heathrow, eager to get back home and tell Bella that her belief in him wasn’t misplaced. That he could be the hero she saw him as. He wanted to commit to her, to have a future with her.

As he settled back in his seat and switched off his cell phone in accordance with the flight attendant’s instructions, he glanced at his watch. And cursed as he realized what was happening—it looked as if Will was going to be the lucky recipient of Grandfather’s watch after all.

* * *

When James got off the plane in Del Sol, he powered up his cell phone intending to call Bella immediately. Surprise. I’m home early.