Chapter 3 #2
Nell greeted her with ease. “Ms. Gallagher.”
Ever unfazed by presence or authority, Lily turned. “Hi, Nell.”
Nell inclined her head slightly. “Hello, Lily.”
“Your team is playing really well today.”
Nell glanced at Sarah briefly before responding. “Thank you. I think so, too, but between you and me, I have a few notes for the coaching staff about our defense.”
“Puget Sound Pride has the best forwards in the league!” Lily beamed, excitedly bouncing on the balls of her feet. “You remember my friend, Wren? Number thirteen. She’s the best in the whole NWSL in my opinion. Did you ever play?”
“No, sadly. I was all about field hockey back in my day.”
Lily considered that. “Were you any good?”
Nell met Lily’s question with the tiniest arch of an eyebrow. “I was excellent.”
Sarah pressed her lips together, highly entertained.
Lily nodded approvingly. “Respect. How did you deal with the skirt thing? I don’t think I could play a sport where you have to wear a skirt. It’s not even functionally necessary to perform.”
Something in Nell’s eyes glinted. She liked Lily. Sarah could see it.
“Not well, but I made it work,” Nell said, with a conspiratorial grin, and Sarah couldn’t help the mental image of Nell in a field hockey skirt that popped into her head, causing heat to rise in her cheeks. She quickly pushed the thought from her mind.
After a moment, Lily stretched and glanced up toward the private boxes. “Some of my friends are up there,” she said, already standing. “I’m gonna go say hi.” She turned back toward Nell. “Good luck with the second half.”
Nell gave her an amused head tilt. “Enjoy the view from the top.”
With that, Lily was off, disappearing into the crowd.
And, suddenly, it was only the two of them.
Sarah turned back to look at Nell, expecting some kind of standard parting remark. Instead, Nell tilted her head slightly.
“She’s quick,” Nell observed, her voice as measured as ever.
Sarah exhaled, a warmth curling in her chest. “She is.”
“She clearly gets that from you.” Nell studied Sarah for a long moment before finally shifting gears enough that Sarah could feel it. That playfulness again. That push-and-pull she had been testing at dinner was back full throttle.
“So,” Nell said, her voice silk-smooth, “have you figured out my puzzle yet?”
Sarah’s pulse kicked up, but she kept her expression even.
“Not yet,” she admitted, tilting her chin slightly. “I have some ideas I’m exploring.”
Nell smirked. Deliberate. Calculated. Just like always. “And here I thought it would have been easy for someone of your caliber to figure it out.”
“Are you in the mood to give me a hint?” Sarah asked, and her question caused Nell to smile—a complete, unrushed smile, not the polite one she offered to cameras or investors but something more knowing. More dangerous. One Sarah had seen threatening to slip out over their dinner.
“Oh, Sarah,” Nell said, gently. “I’m in the mood for a lot of things.
Things you might be privy to if you solve the puzzle.
” She flashed a devilish look. “But, luckily for you, I’m feeling generous today.
Your hint: those who have seen the card before know exactly what it means.
” She turned slightly, looking at a group of men standing on the side of the field, waiting.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got some quick business to attend to before the match resumes.
Enjoy the rest of the game with your daughter. ”
And, just like that, Nell was gone.
Sarah let out a long breath as she watched Nell move effortlessly toward the group of men.
The game was about to start again, but Sarah was no longer thinking about soccer.
She had spent a lifetime perfecting the art of keeping her cards close to her chest, but she was starting to think Nell Stanhope could see straight through her. That thought should have unnerved her.
After the final whistle, the Puget Sound Pride had fought hard and Wren had scored the Pride’s only goal, but the Freedom had walked away with the win—not that Sarah had been particularly focused on the game’s outcome.
No, thanks to their half-time conversation with Nell, Sarah’s mind had been spinning on that damn unmarked business card and what exactly it meant.
The late afternoon sun cast a golden hue over the stadium as Sarah and Lily made their way onto the field after the game to see Wren.
“You came!” Wren exclaimed, her eyes lighting up upon seeing the two of them.
“Of course we did! We wouldn’t miss it,” Lily said. “You played really well! I have notes for you, though . . . just a few things I noticed.” Lily wiggled her phone in front of Wren.
“Mrs. Gallagher! You came, too.”
“For the last time, Wren, Mrs. Gallagher is my mother. Please, it’s Sarah,” she said, as she pulled the teen, who was almost taller than herself, into a hug.
“And of course we came. We’re the co-chairs of your cheering section,” she said softly, squeezing her before letting go.
“I thought you looked outstanding out there. I hope you’re proud of yourself. ”
Wren’s cheeks pinked at Sarah’s words, but Sarah caught the small smile.
“Sucks we still lost.” Wren shrugged, looking away as all the color drained from her face.
“What’s wrong?” Lily asked, puzzled, turning around to see what Wren was looking at. Sarah turned, only to see Nell once again approaching them.
“Oh—uh, nothing. She just makes me nervous,” Wren said quietly.
“But Nell is so nice!” Lily said.
“Yeah, to you. But she’s like one of the big bosses to me. And not like a normal one. Like the enemy one.” Lily rolled her eyes at that, and Sarah laughed to herself as Nell joined them. Wren and Lily were still going back and forth quietly before Wren elbowed Lily to get her to stop talking.
“Uh—hi, Ms. Stanhope,” Wren stammered. “Did you like the game? Your team won. I mean, obviously you know that because you watched it. I, uh—yeah.”
Nell, for her part, smiled patiently as Wren fumbled over her words, but she never once rushed her through what she was trying to say.
“I was coming over to congratulate you on your goal, Miss Parker. It was impressive. You’ve been in the league for a little over a year and have already been called up to the national team twice. I’d call that a great start to a hopefully lengthy career.”
If Wren had been blushing before, now she was downright scarlet.
“Thank you,” she said slowly, as if she had practiced the pace and tone of the words.
Sarah had to give it to Wren. She had come such a long way in the last year, but she was still just a kid finding her voice and her confidence. Sarah decided to throw her a small life raft.
“Wren, weren’t you telling us at dinner the other night how excited you are about the research Nell has been investing in around ACL injuries in female athletes?”
Before Wren could respond, the voice of Shannon York rang out, calling for her. “Parker, get over here. You’ve got jerseys to sign.”
Wren looked helplessly between Nell and the gaggle of fans at the edge of the field.
“Um . . . I need to go. You know—fan engagement stuff.” She paused for a moment, looking slightly helpless, then turned, tripping over her feet before catching herself and walking toward the group waiting for her.
“I’m going with her. You know, to make sure she doesn’t put her foot in her mouth any more than usual.” Lily smiled before heading to join Wren.
Nell watched them for a long moment before speaking. “I wanted to sign Wren.”
Sarah blinked. “Really?”
“She’s raw, but she’s got instinct,” Nell said simply. “But last year, when she was only sixteen, staying local was the right call.”
Sarah studied her. “I didn’t realize she was on your radar.”
Nell turned back to her, a smirk tugging at her lips. “If it’s worth knowing, it’s on my radar.”
There it was again. That shift. They were back in the unspoken game they had been playing since dinner. Sarah knew it was coming. The playful control. The deliberate patience. And yet she still felt the thrill of it.
“It was truly a pleasant surprise to see you again so soon, Sarah,” Nell said smoothly. “I’m needed elsewhere, but I trust you’ll have my puzzle figured out by the end of the week.”
Sarah raised an eyebrow. “And what exactly happens if I don’t solve it?”
Nell’s gaze skimmed over her, assessing and appreciating, clearly enjoying the moment.
“That’s not an option,” she said coolly.
Infuriating. Sarah hated that answer, but she also loved it. It was the answer she would have given. Before she could respond, Nell shifted slightly, leaning close enough to tip the charged air between them.
“Dinner the other week was illuminating, wasn’t it,” Nell said, as though stating a fact rather than asking a question.
A shiver ran down Sarah’s spine as Nell’s eyes flickered with something unnamed and she caught the slightest hint of Nell’s tongue darting out to wet her lips.
It was so subtle, but Sarah caught it. Her body reacted to it, sending a jolt of heat directly to her center. Suddenly, she was the one scrambling for words.
“Yeah,” she said dumbly, because apparently that was all she was capable of.
Nell laughed—actually laughed. Not a light chuckle or a polite exhale, but a full, amused, genuine laugh. It was one of the best sounds Sarah had ever heard.
Nell leaned in slightly and lowered her voice. “I’ll see you soon, Sarah.”
And then—just like that—she was gone.
Sarah let out a slow breath, trying to compose herself and ignore the unmistakable heat crawling up her spine. Trying—and failing—to pretend like she hadn’t been left thoroughly unbalanced.
She was never unbalanced. But Nell Stanhope seemed to have that power over her.