the one that got naked, right?” He ran a hand over his head and swore a blue streak that would have made a sailor proud. “That night, I’d left one of those endless media parties early and found that woman waitin’ for me in my hotel room without her clothes. I don’t know how she got in, but she practically attacked me, and I had to call management to get her to leave. But it wasn’t the first time something like that’s happened with a groupie, and I forgot all about it until Josie flung those pictures at me today.”
Bria paused. “If that’s true, then maybe you’re right, it sounds like a setup. Someone could have hired her to create a photo opportunity.” She grabbed the pad of paper from the table, but her pencil was gone. She checked behind her ear and found it, then started scribbling. “We’ll have to find out who took the photos. My guess is a tabloid reporter wanted a story and decided you weren’t interesting enough on your own, so he fabricated one. Do you remember seeing anything about the incident in the papers?”
He shook his head and reached for his tie, tugging it loose before sitting back down at the table as if all the life were draining out of him. “No, but I wasn’t really paying any mind to the rags, right? I just wanted to finalize the contract and start playing football so my wife could join me.”
He looked distracted as he walked over to the window, and Bria didn’t think he was taking time to appreciate the skyline. “I missed her so much, and then she shows up all angry and asking for a divorce.”
“Why did you want to come to New York to play soccer, anyway?” she asked quietly, conscious of his pain.
He turned around to face her and leaned against the window, banging the back of his head against it. “They offered a lot of money, more than I would make in the next five years back home. And the thing is, I probably don’t have more than that left in me.”
She frowned. “Why do you think so?”
“I suffered an injury last year. Got stomped on and broke my leg. It didn’t heal quite right. I can still play, but who knows for how long? The game only gets rougher every year, and I’m thirty-five already. The doc says another break will be the end of me. Even regular injuries get harder and harder to bounce back from. I had to start thinkin’ about the future.”
“But you’ve had a strong, successful career,” she said. “Even if you couldn’t play again as of this moment, you’d have plenty of money to live more than comfortably for the rest of your life.” As his lawyer, she’d already been given access to all his investment and banking records. “Why bother coming to a new country and starting over at this point?”
“It weren’t for me. I wanted to do it for Josephine.” He looked up. “I met her my first year playing football for Man U. She was waiting for me after a game, kind of like that woman in my hotel room, although she didn’t get naked. She cornered me to tell me just how much I sucked, and that I needed to stop actin’ like a berserker and start playin’ like I knew I was on a team.” His expression softened, and he let out a low chuckle. “She was so fiery and beautiful, I fell in love with her right then and there, and it was that way ever since.”
Bria smiled. “Then why didn’t you just tell her about the woman in the hotel room? She probably would have understood.”
He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. She’ll either leave because of this, or she’ll leave in a year or two because I can’t play football anymore.”
“Of course it matters,” she said with a frown. “She didn’t marry you because she likes soccer. She must love you for more than your career. And if you love her, then give her a chance to prove that she’ll stand by you even if you can’t play.”
He crossed his arms and narrowed his gaze. “Should you really be advising me to get back together with my wife? You aren’t likely to get
Bria paused. “If that’s true, then maybe you’re right, it sounds like a setup. Someone could have hired her to create a photo opportunity.” She grabbed the pad of paper from the table, but her pencil was gone. She checked behind her ear and found it, then started scribbling. “We’ll have to find out who took the photos. My guess is a tabloid reporter wanted a story and decided you weren’t interesting enough on your own, so he fabricated one. Do you remember seeing anything about the incident in the papers?”
He shook his head and reached for his tie, tugging it loose before sitting back down at the table as if all the life were draining out of him. “No, but I wasn’t really paying any mind to the rags, right? I just wanted to finalize the contract and start playing football so my wife could join me.”
He looked distracted as he walked over to the window, and Bria didn’t think he was taking time to appreciate the skyline. “I missed her so much, and then she shows up all angry and asking for a divorce.”
“Why did you want to come to New York to play soccer, anyway?” she asked quietly, conscious of his pain.
He turned around to face her and leaned against the window, banging the back of his head against it. “They offered a lot of money, more than I would make in the next five years back home. And the thing is, I probably don’t have more than that left in me.”
She frowned. “Why do you think so?”
“I suffered an injury last year. Got stomped on and broke my leg. It didn’t heal quite right. I can still play, but who knows for how long? The game only gets rougher every year, and I’m thirty-five already. The doc says another break will be the end of me. Even regular injuries get harder and harder to bounce back from. I had to start thinkin’ about the future.”
“But you’ve had a strong, successful career,” she said. “Even if you couldn’t play again as of this moment, you’d have plenty of money to live more than comfortably for the rest of your life.” As his lawyer, she’d already been given access to all his investment and banking records. “Why bother coming to a new country and starting over at this point?”
“It weren’t for me. I wanted to do it for Josephine.” He looked up. “I met her my first year playing football for Man U. She was waiting for me after a game, kind of like that woman in my hotel room, although she didn’t get naked. She cornered me to tell me just how much I sucked, and that I needed to stop actin’ like a berserker and start playin’ like I knew I was on a team.” His expression softened, and he let out a low chuckle. “She was so fiery and beautiful, I fell in love with her right then and there, and it was that way ever since.”
Bria smiled. “Then why didn’t you just tell her about the woman in the hotel room? She probably would have understood.”
He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. She’ll either leave because of this, or she’ll leave in a year or two because I can’t play football anymore.”
“Of course it matters,” she said with a frown. “She didn’t marry you because she likes soccer. She must love you for more than your career. And if you love her, then give her a chance to prove that she’ll stand by you even if you can’t play.”
He crossed his arms and narrowed his gaze. “Should you really be advising me to get back together with my wife? You aren’t likely to get
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