Playing It Close (15 page)

M. told me to call the recruiters. He only had two criteria for me to pass on to the head hunter: “No birds, no queers.”

—Sexists in the City
blog

“You want me to do what?” Tess sat at the table in Kijani’s meeting room and stared up at Charlie with horror, but the look he returned was confused.

“We talked about this last night at dinner. You agreed to help.”

“I thought I was agreeing to help manage the financial transaction, not become a cheerleader.”

Charlie perched his bum on the edge of the desk next to Tess. “I would never ask you to become a cheerleader. Only to get the crowd going a little so we’re more than just a logo on a shirt they buy.”

Tess groaned and dropped her chin to her chest. “You’ve got to be having a laugh. Tell me you’re having a laugh.”

“Not at all. Don’t you see? It’s brilliant. We can offer something unique to the fans, something most other sponsors never could. What could Sharecore have given away?”

“Stock options.”

“Right. I’m sure they would’ve done that, Tessy. Especially considering they’re worthless now. We have something even better, something that’ll get the crowd excited about us. At each Legends home match, we’ll give away a long weekend at one of our most popular UK or Western Europe destinations. People love a free getaway. And they’ll be so excited about it, that when our web address flashes on the big screen they’ll get online and see we offer exotic foreign holidays without the guilt. It’s perfect.”

Tess had to agree that she would definitely check out the website if she thought a free trip was on offer. But that wasn’t her problem. “You don’t need me to do that. You can do it. Or—” she glanced through the meeting room window at the open-plan office before waving at no one in particular, “—or any of these people. Or the announcer. There’s a man who stands on the pitch during halftime and introduces whatever entertainment they’ve got on. Get him to do it.”

Charlie shook his head. “If the announcer does it, then we’re missing an opportunity to connect the crowd with us. We’re just another faceless company giving shit away. I don’t want that. I want them to have warm, pleasant feelings when they hear our name. I want them to feel like we’re a family so they trust us to take care of their family when they’re on safari in Botswana.”

“Okay, fine. But that still begs the question
why me?
”

He ticked the reasons off on his fingers. “Because you’re young, you’re cute, you’re professional and everyone else in this office knows fuck-all about rugby. Plus, you’re desperate for work and therefore easy for me to exploit.”

Tess opened her mouth to argue that most of the people in the room could be considered young, cute professionals, but she couldn’t argue with the last two bits.

“This is more than just walking onto the pitch at halftime and getting the crowd excited about possibly winning a trip to Skye or Brittany. It’s about creating a relationship. Frank explained that we get several perks for sponsoring the club, like our own hospitality box where we can entertain clients. But since we don’t really have traditional clients, I might find a way of giving that away as an incentive for booking a holiday with us. Whatever we do with it, we need a host who can talk to people in the language they speak. You know rugby, you know Legends and you’ll know all about our holidays by the time we start doing this, so you’ll be able to make that connection with people.”

Tess squeezed her eyes shut, momentarily despising Charlie and his mustard-colored skinny jeans. “That’s all? You’ll pay me to show up at home matches to play hostess and go onto the pitch at halftime?”

“Well, there will be a few other things involved—”

“Such as?”

“I’m not sure yet. Everything’s still up for discussion. But I’ll let you know.” He grabbed her clenched fist and gave it a squeeze. “I don’t want to force you to do anything you’re not comfortable with. I know the other night was...tense...and I’m not sure what happened.”

“Nothing happened.”

“If you say so. I got the impression that when you two met in Venezuela, you didn’t exactly hit it off.”

“It’s no biggie. We were on a hike together. But that’s it.” That so wasn’t it.

“If that’s the answer you’re sticking to, I’ll take it for now. But if there’s something bigger going on that I’m not aware of, just say the word and I’ll find someone else.” He raised his brows and tilted his head down, like he was peering at her seriously over an imaginary pair of spectacles. “In fact, you should know that I have a strict no-fraternization clause in my employment contract.”

“Does that mean what I think it means?”

“If you think it means that you can’t fuck around with anyone related to your work, then yes.”

Tess pinched her lips together in an effort to control the annoyed words that wanted to burst free. Charlie knew her too well to let the matter lie.

“I’m not saying that because of your recent past. I’m saying it because of mine.”

The penny dropped with a clang. Before Charlie came back from his travels and started Kijani, he’d briefly lived in Ghana and run a guest house with a local woman. They’d married, but he’d returned to London without a wife and without a share in that business. Charlie had never confided the details to her, but Tess’s career obviously hadn’t been the only one destroyed by sex with a colleague.

Pushing her misgivings aside, she patted his knee. “You don’t have to worry about that. And of course I’ll do what you need me to. I’m happy to take the position.”

“Thanks. And I know I’m asking you to give up some of your weekends to do this, so I’m more than happy for you to take time off in lieu during the week. Just let me know when you won’t be here so I can plan around it.”

“Charlie, you don’t have to do that. I’m used to working ridiculous hours.”

“I know you are, sweet cheeks, but your former employers were dicks, and they could throw money at you to make it somewhat worth your while. I don’t have those kinds of resources, and I’m not a dick. So take time off when you’ve worked on a weekend, or I’m going to start feeling really guilty.”

“Instead you’re making me feel really guilty about wanting to say no to your evil scheme?”

He smiled. “First day and you’ve already figured out my management technique. I knew you were brilliant.”

He had just turned away to go back to his desk when Kijani’s administrator, Georgie, sauntered through the meeting room door with a swish of her round hips and handed him a bundle of envelopes. “Today’s post.”

“Thanks, Georgie,” he said, but she ignored him and walked away. Attitude and style. Georgie had them in such abundance that Tess had a momentary dream of rubbing against her in the vain hope they were contagious. If Georgie had been alive in the fifties, she would’ve made it as a pin-up. Marilyn Monroe with a Lancashire accent. And the way Georgie dressed and moved proved that she knew it.

Aware she was staring, Tess turned her attention back to her cousin and caught him staring, too, the post all but forgotten. She lowered her voice so no one else could hear. “Rumbled.”

He jerked from his daze. “What?”

“You’ve been rumbled. Don’t try to deny it. I caught you staring.”

“I don’t know what you mean. She works for me.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“She works for you, and you want to get in her pants.”

He looked affronted.

“I’m not blaming you. If I had any leanings in that direction, I would too. She’s stunning.”

“She’s my administrator. That’s all.” He pretended to ignore her by flipping through the envelopes.

“Has something happened between you two?”

“Of course not! I’m her boss. You of all people should know it wouldn’t be appropriate.”

There it was. Would people ever forget the way she’d fucked up by...well, fucking Michael? “You’re right. It’s completely unethical, if it’s one-sided. But if it’s mutual— Oh! Georgie would be a natural at getting involved with the team. Think about it—I bet the men would love her.”

“Georgie knows less than fuck-all about rugby.”

“So? Lots of men see ignorance as an attractive quality in a woman. Look at her. They won’t care if she’s talking to them about rugby, Madagascar or puppies. They’ll just want her to keep talking.”

He glared at her. “I’m not running that kind of business, Tess. And I’m surprised at you, drawing conclusions based on how a woman looks.”

“I didn’t—”

But he lifted a disbelieving brow, as if to say “Rumbled.”

Shame overcame her. How could she have done that after so many years of being the victim of the same line of thinking, only more crudely expressed? “Sorry, Charlie.”

He flicked an envelope into her lap. “I was going to try to find a way to sweeten you up before dropping this on you, but you’ve pissed me right off. Hope you don’t have plans for Saturday.”

“I’m going to the London double header with Dad. Why?” She grabbed the envelope and turned it over, the Legends logo stamped in green ink across the front.

“Good. You can surprise him with these tickets. They’re for the hospitality suite at Twickenham. You’ll need to be there at least half an hour before kickoff.” He walked away, calling over his shoulder, “And please don’t wear a suit. You’re representing the Kijani team now. We dress down for rugby matches.”

* * *

Saturday lunchtime Tess stood with her father outside England’s national rugby stadium, Twickenham. For years, the London double header had been their annual father-daughter date. Her mum and Gwen had never shown any interest in rugby, so it’d been one thing that Tess and her dad could bond over. No matter what Tess had going on at work or which academic conferences her dad might’ve wanted to go to, they set aside this Saturday for the opening of the rugby season, when the four London-based teams played each other in two matches in front of sell-out crowds.

Supporters, decked out in the kits of the four teams, streamed through the regular entrances around the stadium. Where Tess and her dad stood, they could hear music pumping inside and from the live bands playing in the lot where fans gathered to drink and eat fried foods. The smell of Cornish pasties and hamburgers wafted their way from the food vans nearest them, making Tess’s stomach rumble. Frank—or, more probably, his P.A.—had sent a letter with their tickets telling her that there would be a spread for sponsors in their hospitality box, so Tess had decided to hold out until she got inside to eat. Her dad hadn’t had the willpower. He’d downed a portion of fish and chips, calling it an
amuse bouche
. He did like to eat when he was nervous. Beside her, he bounced from foot to foot, like a four-year-old with a bladder infection.

“Dad, don’t take this the wrong way, but do you need a wee?”

He rolled his eyes. “I think we’re still a few years off before you need to worry about asking me things like that.”

“Would you mind not dancing around, then? You’re making me nervous.”

He looked at her in shock. “Nervous? You? I’ve seen you tear grown men apart, littl’un. Men with money, power. How can you be nervous about meeting rugby players?”

Not players, plural. Just one.

But her dad didn’t know that, of course. He threw his arm around her shoulder and drew her into his side before giving what she thought of as his republican speech. It was the same one he’d delivered when she was six and had been chosen to hand a bouquet of flowers to the queen, when Her Maj officially opened a new wing at her school. “Remember, sweetheart, we are all equals. Everyone who acts honorably deserves your respect, but no one deserves it simply for the job they do.”

“Then why are you shaking, Dad?”

For a moment, his nervous trembling stopped, as if his big, logical brain finally overpowered his body’s natural reactions to meeting the team he’d supported for years. “Good question. You’re right—I shouldn’t be nervous either. They’re just men.”

Well, one of them seemed a bit more than that to her, but she wasn’t going to tell her dad that.

A woman about Tess’s age speed-walked over to them, a clipboard in her hands and a headset over one ear. Her power suit and green silky top made Tess feel underdressed in her jeans and Legends rugby shirt.
Damn it.
I
knew
I
should’ve worn a suit.
At least the woman’s smile was welcoming. “Are you Dr. and Ms. Chambers from Kijani Adventures?”

“Yes.” Tess held out her hand. “I’m Tess, and this is my father, Ben.”

“Ruth Higgins. I work in the Legends’ press office. Lovely to meet you both. Tess, I’ll be your main contact, so I’ll meet you before every match, escort you to the pitch just before halftime and at the end of matches, and just generally be on hand to answer any questions you or your guests may have. Do you have any for me so far?”

Tess shook her head. “Don’t think so.”

“Excellent! Let’s go in, then, and I’ll introduce you to the team.”

Tess shoved her hands in the pockets of her jeans and straightened her shoulders. She needed about six feet of courage. Unfortunately she only found about five feet and change. “Are you sure? They’re probably busy preparing for the match.”

Ruth waved off her protest. “They are, but our captain told me to make sure he knew when you arrived.”

“Liam said that?” Tess’s voice had gone all high-pitched, so she cleared her throat. “I mean, did he?”

“He did. After all, you’re our very special guests today.”

Special.
Tess managed to keep from snorting. If there was one thing she certainly wasn’t to Liam, it was special. But that brief wounded look he’d given her in the ladies’ loo came back to her, making her wonder if she could’ve been, had she treated him differently.

* * *

Liam was huddled in the corner of the changing room with the backs coach going over last-minute changes when the door opened. Normally he would’ve ignored any intrusions as he concentrated on all the details he needed to absorb before the match, but this time something told him to look up. It was the same something that had drawn him to the top of Tess’s head in the raw foods restaurant before he’d even known it was her.