Chapter 20
Marcus
Making his international debut is Marcus Diaz.
He’s the youngest player to make the starting lineup for Spain’s men’s international team at only fifteen.
He sprints onto the pitch after getting his instructions from the manager.
We’ve seen what this boy can do at club level, but now in the national colors, what can he bring to the team?
That boy is like lightning. I’m not sure he’s even looked up, and he knows exactly where to place that ball at Garcia’s feet, but he carries on running, forcing the defense to play him onside as Garcia swings the ball back to Diaz, who turns his body towards goal, striking once with his left foot with unbelievable accuracy.
The German goalkeeper didn’t stand a chance.
Diaz is rushed by his whole team as they all congratulate the teenager on his debut goal for Spain.
One of many. With that much talent, this kid is going places.
I managed ten years. Ten amazing years, but I wanted so much more.
Lily’s presence next to me snaps me from my melancholy thoughts as I stare out onto the perfectly manicured pitch from the commentators' box. My head flooded with memories of playing the sport I love so much. I was literally living out my dream.
Sweeping my gaze to her, I notice she’s looking out at the pitch with the same distant expression that I wear, and I’ve an uncontrollable urge to understand the sadness in her eyes.
I know she had to retire the same year I did, but I was not in a good place that year.
Most of it is a blur, and what I can remember, I want to forget.
She shakes herself out of her thoughts and turns to me. “You ready for this, Diaz?”
“I was born ready, Chambers.”
Movement from behind has our heads turning to the large oak doors as a tall blonde woman, dressed in a perfectly tailored nude suit with a white shirt underneath, strides in with a man tapping away on his iPad next to her.
He’s only slightly taller than her, wearing a navy suit and a light blue shirt with no tie.
His mousy brown hair is swept off his face, and he wears dark rimmed glasses perched on the end of his perfectly straight nose.
He grins as she says something to him, flashing his bright white teeth and a dazzling smile.
“Here are our stars.” The woman extends her hand to Lily, “I’m Leanne, your executive producer.” Her wide grin is infectious as she releases Lily to shake my hand quickly before she gestures to the man at her side. “And this is my assistant producer, Niall.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you both.” I shake Niall’s hand with a firm shake as Leanne continues, “You’ve no idea how excited I am about this year’s tournament.”
“Me too.” Releasing Niall’s hand, I place mine in my pant pockets. “Especially as it’s in my hometown and my country is favorites to win.” I wink at Leanne, giving her my signature cocky grin.
“You should know better, Diaz,” Chambers quips. “We Brits always favor the underdogs. Care to put a wager on England getting further than Spain in the competition?”
“You’re on.”
“Oh, I cannot wait for this.” Leanne circles the air around me and Lily with her finger. “This is going to be just as exciting to watch as the football.” She faces Niall, who gives her an affectionate smile.
“Definitely, Lea.”
“Why do people keep saying that?” Lily snaps as she crosses her arms across her chest.
“Never mind.” Leanne waves her off and signals for us to take a seat on the plush white sofas in front of the large windows looking out onto the empty pitch below.
“Let’s get everything sorted and organized for where we want this show to go.
” She and Niall take a seat on one sofa, and Lily and I on the other.
“Now, how we see this going is before and after each game you’ll have ex-footballers from both the female and male league to interview and give their take on the game and how they see the tournament progressing.
” She scrolls through her iPad before she continues, her eyes darting between us both.
“I’ve been in touch with everyone you’ve lined up and arranged their schedules around the players I’ve managed to get on board.
Now, during the day, we’ve a few tasks or games, to keep things fresh. ”
“Games?” Lily and I say at the same time, making Niall and Leanne grin, and Lily huff out an exasperated breath.
“Yes, games. Penalty shoot outs, free kick and crossbar challenges, and a few other games. You both have been cleared by your doctors and physios, right?” She asks, and both Lily and I nod.
“Good, but the games aren’t important right now.
What is important is who our first guest is when we air the opening game. Jenna Dillan will—”
“I’m sorry, Jenna Dillan?” Lily sits tall, her eyes are blown wide as she looks at Leanne.
“Yes, Jenna Dillan. She’s going to be our first guest for the opening match of Spain and Croatia,” Leanne confirms.
“No way?” Lily’s smile has taken over her whole face, and I can’t help but smile across at her.
“You fangirling, Chambers?”
“Abso-fucking-lutely. Jenna Dillan was my hero growing up. One hundred and sixteen caps for England, she made her debut for City at only fourteen. Fourteen, Diaz,” she screeches.
“She then debuted in the England ladies’ team at fifteen.
That's insane. She’s still the youngest player to ever make the national team.
She has the highest international goals, and no one has matched her yet in the female league.
The woman is the best of the best. God, if I could’ve played one match with her, I would’ve retired one happy woman.
” She’s practically buzzing with energy as she lists off Dillan’s stats.
And I know that Lily was so close to catching her with her goal stats, but she had to retire.
“Have you ever met her?” Niall chips in.
“Once. It was an under twenty ones game. I was nine.” Her gaze drifts down as she looks at her hands, her fingers drumming a pattern on her leg. The memory seems to have shifted her mood slightly.
“What happened?” I question grabbing her delicate hand in mine, not giving a fuck that Leanne and Niall are watching our every move.
Her emerald eyes meet mine, and I note that they’re slightly glassy. “She was just perfect.”
“So why are you sad?”
“Not now.” She releases my hand and returns her gaze to Leanne and Niall, her mask firmly back in place. “When do we get to meet her? And should I be getting questions ready?”
Leanne takes a moment to answer as she assesses Lily. “She’ll be here tomorrow for a debrief and to go through what we have planned for the following day for the opening match. I think she’s also game for some of our fillers we have planned for in between the games.”
“Amazing. I’ll get some questions drafted. Did you want me to email them directly to you?” Lily asks.
“That would be great.”
“I’ll do the same,” I agree, and mentally start to note what I’d love to know about the infamous Jenna Dillan.
“Fantastic. Niall, can you send them a list of the footballers we have coming in and when, so they can prepare, and also the schedule for the other events the station wants them to attend while they are here?”
“On it, boss.” He taps away at his iPad as my phone vibrates in my pocket. Taking it out, I see it’s an email from Niall. Efficient.
“Okay, great, well, I think we’re done here. But before you leave, fancy a tour of the stadium? Maybe a kick about on the pitch? Some of the juniors have come for a tour, and it would be amazing if you could join them.” Leanne asks.
“Sounds perfect.” I jump up, excited to get out there. “I haven’t brought my boots though.”
“Don’t worry about that. We’ve a pair in the boot room for you both.
The kit manager will get you both set up, and we’ll meet you both down there.
Just got a few bits we need to tie up this end.
” The pair leave chattering away about technical issues that I have no clue about, but I’m itching to get my boots back on and get on home soil.
“Let's lace up our boots.” Clapping my hands together, a thrill runs through me at the prospect of the turf under my boots again. But I frown, noticing Lily is still rooted to her spot on the sofa. “Chambers?”
“Yeah, sorry, I’m coming, but I think I’ll just watch from the bench while I jot down some questions for Jenna.” Her voice is a little distant as she looks out at the pitch.
“Come on, Chambers, five minutes?”
“I said no, Diaz.” She glares at me.
“You’re passing on the opportunity to hand me my ass?” I grin down at her, trying to get her fired up. “Scared?”
She unfolds herself from her spot on the sofa and gives me a look that makes me take a step back. “Not scared, just not in the mood.”
Not in the mood?
That can’t be right. Lily lives and breathes football. I grasp her bicep, pulling her back to face me. “Leave it, Diaz,” she whispers, and I nod, knowing I need to drop it. But I will get in her head. She isn’t hiding from me.