Chapter 39 Kieran
Kieran
I took a breath and pushed open the door to Rob’s office.
I’d been dreading this ever since I got the text this morning.
The minute I’d punched Sean, I’d triggered a public relations crisis.
If Rob thought a few late nights of partying was a problem, then he hadn’t reckoned with all-out war between his players and a night in a police cell.
I stepped inside Rob’s office to find he wasn’t alone. Ollie Fox sat opposite my manager and Mortimer Fox hovered at the window. What the fuck was Mortimer doing here? Had he come to gloat at my downfall?
Rob flashed me an unimpressed glance. “Sit down, Kieran.”
I cringed to hear him use my first name.
That hadn’t happened since he signed me.
I took a seat next to Ollie, who flashed me a kind smile.
I gave him a nod. Jack had opened up about Ollie this morning.
I’d suspected Ollie was encouraging Jack in the partying, but actually Jack had grumbled that Ollie wanted more quiet nights in.
Maybe Ollie was a good influence on Jack the way Joanie had been good for me.
Mortimer glanced at me and returned his gaze to the training pitches. Rob pushed a newspaper across the desk toward me. My pale, bloodied face as police officers dragged me out of Mortimer’s mansion stared at me from the front page.
Rob tapped the paper with his finger. “Congratulations, here we are. Calverdale is getting all the press.” His eyes blazed with anger. “Shame it’s all on the front page, considering the sports news is supposed to be at the bloody back.”
Silence engulfed me. What was I supposed to say? This was likely to be my last day at Calverdale. I just wanted to get out of here so I could figure out what the fuck I was supposed to do with my life now.
At least Joanie would be happy to see the back of me. She didn’t want my apology. She wouldn’t answer my calls. How was I supposed to win her back if she wouldn’t let me talk to her? My stomach churned.
A knock sounded at the door. Who now? Why had Rob invited an audience to applaud me getting the boot?
“Come in,” Rob called.
The door opened and a bruised and battered Sean Wallace stepped inside.
He was followed by a stocky older man with sandy hair, a grizzled beard, and stern eyes.
Adam Wallace. What a party. I was about to get sacked in front of my brother’s pop star boyfriend, the captain I’d punched, and two members of the board, one of them a rock legend and the other a former England captain.
They would have made a great lineup for a celebrity panel show.
Instead, Rob had gathered them together as a firing squad.
Rob lifted his gaze. “We’re going to run out of chairs.”
“I’ll stand.” Sean’s dad positioned himself by the window at the opposite corner to Mortimer. Sean slipped into the seat next to me.
Rob steepled his hands in front of his chin. His face was a mask of barely concealed disdain. “I’ve seen a lot in my thirty years in this business, but I’ve never had to deal with a shitshow like this. A public punch-up between players on the same team?”
Sean kept his eyes fixed ahead on the coaching certificates that hung on the wall behind Rob.
His face was even worse than mine. Bruises of every color smattered his cheeks.
One of his eyes was puffy and half closed.
His nose looked crooked. A wave of guilt made my shoulders heavy.
He’d made a mess of my face, but I hadn’t realized how badly I’d rearranged his.
I hadn’t meant to. A red mist had descended, and I’d lost my shit.
Sean had called me a brainless thug, and instead of taking the higher ground, I’d proven him right. It sickened me. I hadn’t been able to control my temper. Violence solved nothing. This wasn’t the man I wanted to be. I wanted to be better.
I drew a breath. “You look like shit, Sean. I’m sorry.”
Sean’s eyebrow hitched, but he kept his gaze fixed ahead.
“I’m sorry, too.” Mortimer’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “I’m only sorry you didn’t hit him harder. I had an interesting conversation with Jack Earnshaw this morning.”
I looked at him in surprise.
Mortimer’s hand shook as he smoothed his thick hair. “How dare you threaten to drag my son’s name through the press?” He shifted his gaze to Ollie and his eyes softened. “I’m proud of my boy. He’s got nothing to be ashamed of. I heard about what you said, Sean, and I won’t let this slide.”
Sean shifted in his seat and looked everywhere but at the rock star glowering in the corner.
Rob tapped his lips. “I’ve heard some disturbing things about what went on yesterday, and I don’t tolerate bullying, Wallace. Everyone in that locker room deserves respect. What goes on in someone’s private life stays private. You don’t make threats against your own teammates.”
Sean’s lips thinned. “This has been blown out of proportion. I was drunk. I don’t know why everyone’s getting all wound up.”
“This wasn’t a one-off. You’ve been threatening this for months,” I said.
He chuckled nastily. “Can’t take a bit of banter, Earnshaw? I’m speaking the truth, anyway.”
Ollie cut him a sharp glance. “It’s not your place to speak it.”
Sean’s one good eye narrowed. “Earnshaw threw the first punch. He broke my fucking nose. I had a shoot for Calvin Klein next week and I’ve had to cancel. I suppose you can send Earnshaw in my place like you did for that commercial.”
That’s what this was all about: Sean’s jealousy. It had damaged his ego when he hadn’t got to parade around drinking Fizzz.
“I didn’t want to do that fucking commercial. You’re welcome to my lifetime supply of Fizzz, though, if you’re that desperate,” I said.
Rob leaned back in his chair. “I don’t condone violence, but I suppose a punch to the face was one way to shut you up. You’re no captain, Sean. You need to step down.”
Sean’s voice was low and dangerous. “I’m the best player you’ve got.”
Rob sighed. “Maybe so. That’s why I can’t kick you out of here, but it doesn’t mean you’re the captain. You’ve lost the respect of the team. We’re all sick of your behavior. I don’t want a team full of egos and superstars. Everyone is equal.”
“I’m the captain. You can’t take that away from me.” Sean shot out of his chair. “Screw this. I don’t give a fuck about any of this. I’m the best player in the Premier League. I could walk into any club in Europe, and they’d drop to their knees and beg me to sign.”
“If only you would,” Rob said quietly. “That’s the only way I can ever see myself getting rid of you.”
“Fine. I’ll go. I know when I’m not wanted. I’ll find a better club.” Sean’s face twisted with bitterness, and he turned his attention to Adam Wallace, who stood silently in the corner. “Are you going to let them talk to me like this?”
Adam scraped a hand over his sandy beard and put a hand on Rob’s shoulder. “I’m sorry about this, Rob.” He inclined his head to Ollie. “And you too, son. I’m sorry.”
Adam shook his head, and his voice was hoarse. His gray eyes locked with his son’s and flashed a stark warning. “You shut your mouth now, boy. You’re going home with me. We need to talk.”
Sean paled and cast his eyes downward. Without another word, Adam left the room. Sean bowed his head and followed like a Rottweiler who had been called to heel. Adam shut the door behind them and a strange silence swept around the room.
Rob picked up a pen and tapped it against the desk.
“I don’t want a toxic environment. Football has never truly felt like .
. . an inclusive place at the grassroots level.
Things have progressed over the past couple of years, but I recognize this isn’t an environment where everyone feels comfortable to be themselves.
The women are way far ahead of us on that score. Things need to change.”
He transferred his gaze to Mortimer. “Sorry for all this. Thanks for coming to me with it.”
Mortimer nodded. He rested a hand on my shoulder as he escorted his son to the door, but said nothing. What did that mean? He wasn’t mad at me? He wasn’t giving me the boot?
“Wait,” I called. “How is Joanie?”
Mortimer paused at the door. “You broke my rule, Kieran. I told you I wanted Joanie to come back with a beaming smile. She hasn’t looked happy since she stepped off that plane.”
No more games. Only the truth. “I fell in love with your daughter. I won’t apologize for that. She doesn’t want me because she feels betrayed by this stupid deal.”
His usually confident expression was guarded. “This isn’t about you. Joanie doesn’t have time to think about you at the moment. Tomorrow is her first match back. You need to give her space.”
“I know. I will, but can you tell her something? Don’t say it’s from me. I don’t want to upset her, but she needs to know this.”
He pressed his lips. “Know what?”
“Tell her that it’s OK to feel whatever she feels tomorrow. Tell her that she’s brave and strong. That the crowd is going to be full of kids who think she’s brilliant. Please tell her that she’s creating an amazing legacy.”
Mortimer’s eyes fixed on mine. A satisfied look flashed in his scrutinizing glare and he nodded. “I was wrong about you. I can’t help you with my daughter. She’s a grown woman. You’ll have to figure that out by yourselves, but I’m going to do what I can to get you on the England squad this year.”
“Why?”
He smirked. “Because we don’t stand a chance in hell of winning it without you.” He gave Rob a mock salute, and swept away, closing the door behind him.
Rob fixed his stern gaze on me. My stomach clenched. This wasn’t going to end well. Better to get it over with. I might have been in with a chance to play for England, but I’d need to find another club. Rob wouldn’t stand for me punching Sean.
“I know you have to let me go, boss. I’m not going to make it difficult for you.”
He surveyed my face. “Let you go? Bollocks to that. You can’t go anywhere. I need a captain.”
I snorted. Not me. “You’re not serious.”
“The players have already chosen you. Let’s see how we go this season.”
I blinked, baffled and trying to hide my confusion. “I’m not fired?”
He angled his pen toward me. “Your first job as captain is to make sure the team knows if anyone wants to talk to me, I’ll listen.
Everyone here should feel comfortable to be who they are, and they’ll get my full support.
” He pressed his lips together thoughtfully.
“And if they don’t want to talk to me, then that’s fine too.
Either way, I won’t tolerate bullying. I want to do my best for my lads. ”
Captain? Me? “I’m really not fired?”
He shook his head. “I want the FA Cup this year. I can’t let you go anywhere.
Just go and have a word with Sadie, will you?
A public punch-up is a PR nightmare. And don’t worry about Sean.
I can’t see him sticking around here much longer.
A punch to his ego is worse than one to his face.
He’ll go and find another bunch of idiots to kiss the ground he walks on.
” He sighed, reached into his drawer, and pulled out his lunch box. “Go on then. Off you go.”
I got up before he changed his mind.
“I saw your commercial, by the way.”
“Oh? What did you think?”
He took a bite of his sandwich and cut me an amused glance. “You look like a fucking idiot.”