Striker. Michelle Betham
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say that?’ Tracy gasped, placing a hand over her chest, her eyes wide with shock. ‘Ryan Fisher is probably the most gorgeous footballer out there right now.’ She returned to a somewhat more composed position behind her desk. ‘Mind you, a few of my friends think that Jim Allen is a bit of alright, too. For an older man. I certainly wouldn’t say no. Who knew football could be so sexy, huh?’
Just the mention of Jim’s name made Amber’s skin prickle and she stepped away from the desk, picking up her bag.
‘Personally, either of them would do me,’ Tracy went on, sorting through a pile of mail on her desk. ‘Your dad used to play alongside Jim Allen at Newcastle Red Star, didn’t he?’
‘Briefly, yes. Look, Tracy, if you’ll excuse me I’ve got quite a bit to get through this morning if I want to make it to the match this afternoon.’
‘Feel free to pop down for a coffee later,’ Tracy smiled, looking up as Amber made her way towards the lift. ‘Y’know, if there’s any more gossip you want to share.’
Amber gave Tracy a small smile back before disappearing into the lift. With the doors safely closed, she leaned back against the wall, closed her eyes and breathed out slowly. She really wished she’d been more prepared for the publicity being involved with Ryan Fisher was creating. She could kick herself for being so stupid. Had she really thought that people would just shrug their shoulders and let them get on with things? Talk about burying your head in the sand! But, and this was the biggest surprise, she was really growing to like Ryan. Despite his reputation. Despite the age gap. Despite the fact she still couldn’t trust him 100%. But then, could he really trust her? Now that Jim Allen was back in her life, could she really trust herself?
Since the night of the charity dinner at the Tynebridge Stadium, Amber had tried her hardest to avoid bumping into Jim again, and thanks to a run of away matches she’d succeeded. Of course, the double-edged sword there was that Ryan had been away from home, too, and she’d found herself missing him. More than she’d thought she would. Oh, she wasn’t talking love’s young dream or anything like that. She wasn’t pining for him or sitting there night after night scribbling his name down on pieces of paper and imagining what it would be like to be Mrs. Ryan Fisher. Far from it. They weren’t joined at the hip or desperate to be around each other twenty-four hours a day. All it had been so far was a lovely few weeks of fun, which suited Amber just fine. And she was sure it suited Ryan just fine, too. But it did feel good knowing someone was there if she needed them. It felt good being able to let go and enjoy herself. It felt good to have that physical relationship again, and nobody could deny that Ryan Fisher wasn’t a man most women would kill to get into their bed. That in itself brought a slightly smug smile to Amber’s face as she stepped out of the lift and made her way to her desk.
‘I won’t ask what you’re smiling about because you’ll probably tell me,’ Kevin said, throwing a pile of post onto Amber’s desk as she sat down, swinging her chair round to face her laptop. ‘I take it you’re going to the match this afternoon?’
‘Oh, you’re not gonna make me work, are you?’ Amber groaned. She really wanted to go to Tynebridge that afternoon and just watch a game of football without knowing she had work to do, too.
‘Chill out, will you? You’re free to go whenever you want. I didn’t even need you in this morning, if you must know.’
‘Yeah, well, I wanted to get this report done before Monday. And I’ve got an interview at the cricket ground to sort out for next week that I’d rather get out of the way now. That’s the only reason I’m here.’
Kevin sat down on the edge of her desk, folding his arms.
Amber looked at him, frowning slightly. ‘Do you want something, Kevin?’
‘Is everything alright?’
Amber sat back, crossing her legs, resting one elbow on the desk beside her, tapping the nails of her other hand on the arm of her chair. ‘What’s the matter? Come on, you’ve got that “I’m about to give you a bit of a talking to” look on your face.’
‘Are you coping okay with all this publicity you and Ryan Fisher are getting at the minute?’
Amber glanced briefly out of the window, watching the steady stream of Saturday morning traffic flowing past the News North East offices. ‘I don’t like it, but, yeah…’ She turned her attention back to Kevin. ‘Why? Have you got a problem with it?’
Kevin shook his head, almost too defensively, Amber thought. ‘No. No, I don’t have a problem with it. Why would I have a problem with it?’
‘I don’t know,’ Amber said, chewing on the end of her biro as she stared at Kevin. ‘Why would you?’
Kevin looked down at the floor for a few seconds before meeting Amber’s eyes again, coughing quickly. ‘I know I made a joke out of things in the beginning, telling you to get closer to Ryan because it might benefit us, but…’
Amber couldn’t help smiling. She and Kevin Russell had known each other a long time – ever since she’d joined News North East as a young trainee – and despite their often clashing personalities, she cared a lot about him. And she knew he cared about her, too. He just had trouble expressing his real feelings.
‘Kevin, I’m fine. Okay? I know what I’m doing, I know the kind of person Ryan is, and I’m well aware of his reputation. So I don’t need another “dad” on my back. Alright?’
He looked at her, a sideways smile starting to appear at the corners of his mouth. ‘You sure?’
‘I’m sure,’ Amber replied, still smiling as she swung her chair back round to face her now fired-up laptop. ‘Now, go on, get off my desk. I’ve got work to do.’
Opening up her emails, Amber scanned the list to see which, if any, required urgent attention, but the sound of her phone ringing distracted her almost immediately. She picked up and pressed answer without checking the caller’s number, and the second she heard his voice she knew that had been a mistake. ‘Hello, Amber.’
‘Who gave you my number?’ Amber asked, her voice almost a whisper.
‘Come on, honey. Your dad gave it to me. We’re old friends, baby, remember? He just wants us all to stay in touch this time.’
‘You aren’t being fair, Jim,’ Amber carried on through gritted teeth, leaning forward, desperate to make sure nobody overheard this conversation.
‘I just want to get to know you again, Amber. What’s so wrong with that? It’s been so long … too long… Look, I’m back now and there isn’t really anything you can do about that, so why don’t we start again, huh? Start over.’
‘Because I can’t do that, Jim. I can’t start over, I can’t begin again. I can’t do that. So just let me deal with this in my own way, alright? And that means leaving me alone.’
She ended the call and threw her phone down onto the desk, dropping her head into her hands. Jim Allen wasn’t going to go away, she wasn’t stupid. He was back, and it was something she was just going to have to deal with. She just didn’t know how to, yet. She just didn’t know how.
Ryan watched as his laptop screen sprang to life, his heart racing. He was alone in the hotel room, but that could change at any time. Jim Allen had a strict ban on computer use on the day of a match – he even confiscated everyone’s mobile phones for the last few hours leading up to kick-off. They were too much of a distraction as far as he was concerned. Nobody should be thinking about anything other than the match ahead. But Ryan had sneaked his laptop in, burying it under a pile of clothes at the bottom of his holdall. He was big enough to be able to decide what was considered a distraction, and right now, sitting there with nothing to do and nowhere to go until they were called for a team lunch at midday, the silence was a bigger distraction than the internet could ever be.
He looked at the computer screen,