Chapter 8 Dominic
DOMINIC
My father is the very last person I want to see right now, and yet he’s the first person to cross my path. I wave him off with a glance at my watch.
“Not now, Dad. I’m stupidly late for the game.”
“Did something happen?” He asks, blocking my path. “You look stressed.”
I sigh heavily and run a hand through my hair. “Yes, something bloody happened. One of our sponsors pulled because of Archie’s continued absence.”
My father frowns deeply. “Which sponsor?”
“Atlantic.”
“The airline?”
“Yes, the airline.” My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I pull it out to see a message from Barry asking where I am. “Maybe you’d like to tell Archie exactly what he’s costing us the next time he calls you for a heart-to-heart. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
I move to step over the oxygen tank, but my father puts out an arm to further block my way.
“Dad, I don’t have time for this.”
“You will make time,” my father growls out. “I am still a part-owner of this club and these matters concern me as well.”
“Do they?” I narrow my eyes at him. “Because you certainly didn’t seem too concerned the other day.”
“Of course I was concerned, but Archie’s wellbeing should concern us all.”
“Archie’s wellbeing?” I let out a harsh laugh.
“Archie’s selfishness you mean? He is costing the club in reputation, in time, and now in money.
He has violated his contract, and he will be benched and penalised when he gets back, you do understand that, don’t you? As part-owner of the club and all?”
“Have you tried calling him?”
I lean back against the wall with a frustrated grunt, folding my arms over my chest. “Fuck’s sakes, yes I bloody have. He doesn’t answer, he never answers.”
My father clasps his hands over his rounded belly and raises his eyebrows. “And why do you think that would be?”
“Dad, I told you already, I am late, and I do not have time for this. If you have so much empathy and understanding for Archie, you call him, and see if you can’t convince him to step up to his responsibilities and come back.” I gesture down the hallway past my father. “Now, may I leave?”
My father steps aside and sweeps his hand in front of him. “Go ahead.”
I storm off down the corridor, pursued by my father’s voice.
“I’ll call Atlantic, I’m old friends with the CEO. Don’t worry, Dominic.”
I lift my hand in a wave without turning around, and head down to the parking lot.
The game’s already started by now, and I curse myself for letting the whole situation with Atlantic get out of hand.
Kasia did everything she could to waylay the discussions, acting more the part of the CEO than I was.
These conversations still left me feeling completely out of my depth, and I know it wasn’t just Archie’s absence that had caused their withdrawal - it was me.
No plan, just a bumbling old ex-footballer who thinks he knows about business.
I feel like a fraud pulling into the team carpark, showing my ID to the gate guards and parking my car by our bus. Dominic Graves, Arlington FC, CEO.
Fucking wanker, more like.
The crowds are already cheering up in the stands, and I take the stairs up to the boxes. I wonder if Mia’s here. Or maybe she left when I didn’t show, thinking I’d stood her up.
Stupid old fool, she’s only coming to piss Archie off, not to see you.
I’m met in the boxes by handshakes and wide smiles, but I don’t linger for too long, rushing out into the stands, telling myself that it’s to check on the lads and the game.
But I know what I’m looking for.
“Thought you’d bailed on me.” Mia smiles up at me as I pause by her row. “Started without you and all.”
“Sorry, just… got caught up. Can I get you a drink?”
She shakes her head, casting her gaze back down to the field. “No, I’m fine, ta.”
I flop down in the seat beside her, and she gives me a searching look.
“Rough day?”
“You could say that.”
“Mmm. You got that look about you.”
I sigh and meet her gaze. “Sponsorship woes.”
She lifts an eyebrow. “Because of Archie?”
I nod. “And I fumbled the whole thing because we don’t have a plan, or any answers, and people giving you money tend not to like that.
” I attempt to stretch my legs, my knees jamming against the seat in front of me, and grimace.
“Even at my age I still manage to feel like a fucking amateur at all this.”
Mia nudges against me gently with her shoulder. “Ey, you’re being too hard on yourself now. Maybe you should let Kasia handle these things for a while, you’re too close to it all.”
“Maybe.” I fold my arms over my chest, keeping my eyes on the game. “You’re probably right.”
We pass the rest of the game quietly, making small talk every now and then, Mia springing to her feet when our team scores the only goal of the game.
“One nil, not bad at all,” Mia says once the cheering has calmed at the end of the game. “Looks like it’s going to be a good rest of the season.”
“I would welcome that. Could use a win.”
“I hope Archie and the sponsors saw that.” She gives me an indulgent smile. “You watch, they’ll be calling you tomorrow saying they've changed their minds and want to get back on board.”
“Yeah, maybe.” I rise to my feet, stretching my old man back. “Did you, uh… Did you want to go and get some dinner?”
Mia regards me with surprise. “Dinner?”
“Uh, yeah, only I’ve not eaten pretty much all day and I am famished.
” I falter, realising the last thing Mia wants to do is have dinner with her ancient fucking father-in-law.
The games are one thing, spending time with me willingly?
That’s another. “You’re probably busy, or you just want to go home, or whatever. I understand.”
“No, no, dinner would be lovely.” She wraps her red scarf around her neck, which looks brilliant against the curtain of her dark brown hair. She smiles at me as she tucks her hands into the pockets of her grey coat. “I didn’t bring my car, didn’t want to deal with the traffic and all.”
“That’s not a problem, I can drive you. I’ll even drop you home.”
“Oh, how nice of you.” She laughs lightly. “Well, then. Lead the way.”
The traffic around the stadium is manic, and it takes us what feels like an age to maneuver our way out of Arlington and south towards Hammersmith.
“What do you fancy?”
Mia shifts in the seat beside me. “I don’t know. Just nothing stupid small and expensive. I’ve had my fill of ridiculous rich people’s food this week, I want real food.”
“I know a great little pub, it’s not far from my place.”
Mia looks over at me with a grin. “If you were anyone else I’d have thought that was a pick-up line.”
My face burns. “Jesus, I didn’t mean it like that, I-” I break off with an awkward laugh. “I just meant I know it well.”
Mia laughs out loud. “I know, I know, I’m just teasing you.”
If Mia knew exactly what that teasing’s done to me, she’d slap me and get out of the car. What is wrong with me? I can’t be within 6 feet of a beautiful woman without going all soft in the damn head.
“So what rich people food have you been subjected to this week then?” I ask, forcing myself to sound jovial.
“Well I attended not one, but two events hosted by Joanne Murray. One of them you probably heard about.”
“Oh, shit.” I glance over at her. “I did hear about that. Someone said she had a full blown breakdown on stage while giving a speech?”
Mia nods with a heavy sigh. “It was heartbreaking, really. She saw a picture of Peter holding their son when he was in the hospital, and she just lost it. He’s apparently looking to divorce her for some young thing he met down in the country.”
“Wow.” I take a right, shaking my head. “Bloody men, ey?”
“That’s pretty much what I said.” Mia exhales heavily. “I felt so sorry for her. Putting on this front for everyone all these years, putting up with his cheating, and now he’s going to leave her anyway. What did her loyalty get her? Fucking nothing.”
“No, I suppose it didn’t.”
“I never want to be like that,” Mia mutters. “So far gone a man’s just destroyed me and cost me my own sense of self-worth. I’m divorcing Archie the second he gets back.”
“Of course.” I don’t know what else to say. Sorry I raised my son to be such a fucking loser who treats women like garbage? Fat lot of good that’d do either of us.
We finally reach the pub, and the parking lot isn’t too full. Mia looks up at the gold lettering over the door and giggles.
“The Line and Tackle?” She asks incredulously. “What a name.”
“Well, it is right on the river?”
She wrinkles her nose with a laugh. “You think they’re getting their catch from that mucky water? We’ll walk out of here glowing green if they are.”
I hold the door open for her as I laugh and shake my head.
“Good evening, Mr Graves!” The friendly lady behind the bar gives me a brilliant smile as we approach. “Table for two, is it?”
“Yes, please.”
“Table service?” Mia mutters behind me. “What kind of pub is this?”
We’re shown to a quiet, dimly lit table in the corner, and it feels romantic in a way that has me looking at Mia to see if she’s feeling awkward.
But she simply slips off her coat and scarf, handing them to me to hang on the hat stand behind my chair. She’s wearing a tight black knit dress, over-the-knee boots, and enormous gold hoops that glimmer against her hair.
I’m fucking staring at her.
Mia picks up the menu and glances over it, tapping her long manicured nails against the back of it.
“Do you recommend anything?” She glances up at me, at my place by the hat stand where I’m still just staring at her. Her eyebrows lift slightly. “You alright?”
“Uh, yes, yes I am.” Just a bumbling fucking fool staring at a beautiful young woman like she’s a conquest and not his fucking daughter-in-law. “Sorry, your hair looks spectacular, it’s a little distracting.”
Mia’s mouth widens into a smile, and she runs a hand along the length of her hair.
“Oh, ta. New brand partner and their products actually work, which is nice. Makes all those ads feel worth it.”