CHAPTER 19
Due to a licensing issue with Sky Sports, the Bees and Swansea City were set to play at noon that Thursday.
Scarlett had gone home early yesterday to wallow in her own misery, but by kickoff time she was back, dressed in her usual silk blouse, jeans, and high heels, fully focused on the team.
Despite everything that had happened yesterday, Scarlett took her seat next to a now-empty spot that was usually occupied by Marrero.
Sighing, she looked out over the stadium as she took out her phone.
The stadium was more packed today than usual, which was odd, considering that it was a day game.
The crowd was definitely bigger, and it certainly appeared as if every one of the twenty-five thousand seats were occupied, but logistically, that couldn’t be.
It was the middle of a weekday. Most people were at work or school or simply too busy. It made Scarlett curious.
“Miss Simmons?” Chard’s voice sounded to her right, and she spun around. He gave her a piteous pout. “May I speak with you for a moment?”
“Of course,” she said, standing.
He crossed the room, nodding and greeting a few people as he made his way to the bar.
He cocked his head in a jerking motion, which caused the bartender to scamper off instantly.
Chard began to make his own cocktail, pointing at Scarlett with the ice tongs as he did.
“Montenegro?” he asked, but she declined.
He finished his work, crafting a surprisingly handsome drink with a curled orange rind.
Waiting for him as he took a slow sip, Scarlett tried not to breathe too loudly, worried that it might show that she was less than interested in waiting around for him to finish his drink.
Thankfully, after another moment, he placed his glass down on the bar.
“I’m afraid you’re not going to be pleased with me, Miss. Simmons.”
She frowned. “How do you mean?”
“I went over the numbers last night with my brother, and it’s not possible to keep the women’s team.
I know that was the main deciding factor of your coming here, and I tried a dozen times at least to have Jaffi work it out, but the numbers aren’t adding up, and I’m afraid it’s simply not within our budget to do so. ”
Scarlett gave him a sour sort of smile. “I understand.”
“I did try.”
She wanted to ask him why he’d bought the Bees to begin with if he wasn’t prepared to put in the time and energy, but it was likely a pointless question.
People like Chard bought and sold businesses on a whim, and while she didn’t doubt his love for the game, it took more than that to be a part of a successful franchise.
It took dedication, hard work, failures, and more to create a winning team.
Sacrifice was an athlete’s creed, and it should also be the general managers’ and owners’ as well, because it took sacrifice to build something to be proud of—and while she had hoped that was what was going on here, it was obvious she had been foolishly optimistic.
“It is what it is,” she said just before a finger tapped her on the shoulder.
Spinning around, she was surprised to see Gary, his brow creased with worry and sweat. He was dressed in his usual tracksuit, but he looked a little red in the face, as if he had just completed a run.
“Gary? Are you okay? What are you doing up here? The game’s about to begin.”
“No, it’s not. They’re not going to take the field,” he said lowly, crowding her as Chard leaned over the bar. “Your presence has been requested. The both of you.”
“What? Why?” she asked. “What do you mean they’re not going to take the field?”
“What’s going on?” Chard asked.
“Please,” Gary said quietly, peering around. “If we leave now, we might be able to resolve this before the whistle.”
With a befuddled glance at Chard, Scarlett hurried out of the owner’s box, following Gary as he strode along, Chard behind them. There was no use in asking why Gary was rushing. With the game scheduled to start any minute, every second was a step closer to a forfeit.
Scarlett hurried as fast as she could in her heels, matching Gary’s speed as they reached the staircase. She needed to know what was happening—at least to be semi-prepared.
“What’s going on?” she asked again.
“The team wants you and Mr. Mohammad in the locker room, stat.”
“But why are they refusing to take the field?”
Gary sighed as they reached the next flight of stairs. “They’ve gotten it in their heads that they might be able to help get the women’s team another year.”
Scarlett sighed, ignoring the pinching sensation she felt in her heart. That was sweet, but an impossibility. “Gary, that’s very touching, but it has nothing to do with team solidarity. A strike won’t help anything. There isn’t any money left.”
Gary shrugged as they hurried down the final hallway deep below the stadium. Now, practically running, Scarlett, Gary, and Chard reached the locker room as a faint stomping, clapping pattern sounded overhead.
The fans were getting impatient.
“I’ll see if I can stall for time,” Gary said. “Head in there.”
Scarlett entered the locker room and saw every player dressed and ready to go, standing in front of their personal lockers.
Theo was standing in the middle of the room, dressed in his usual game-day suit, his face stern, though he did blink when he spotted her.
She opened her mouth to speak, but Chard’s voice boomed behind her.
“What’s all this? Why aren’t you taking the field?”
“The team refuses to play,” Theo said.
Scarlett’s eyes widened as she gazed around the room. Each player, with their hands behind their backs, were staring straight ahead. They all refused to look at either her or Chard. Heck, they weren’t even glancing at one another.
“Why?” Chard asked.
“Aban?” Theo motioned to the captain, who took a step forward.
“We’ve discussed it and decided that it isn’t fair that the entire women’s team should be axed because of one of our players’ mistakes,” he said, eyes flicking to Miles. “The women deserve to continue.”
“It’s not in the budget,” Chard said, exasperated, “and this stunt isn’t going to help the situation either.”
“With all due respect, this isn’t a stunt. It’s a request,” Weeks said.
“A request for what? More money? Look, I’ve told you all, it’s not possible—”
“To rearrange some finances,” Aban said, stepping forward again to hand Chard a piece of paper.
“What is this? Is this a contract?”
“Yes. For one year exactly. Each player on this team makes close to three times as much as the women. If we were to each take a one-sixth reduction in weekly pay, the organization would be able to afford the women’s team for another year, giving the front office enough time to see the amount of money their team has brought in and to allot monies earned in a more efficient way so that we can afford a women’s team. ”
Scarlett’s mouth fell open while Chard tilted his head, reading the paper in his hand. This was impossible. Wasn’t it? They couldn’t do something like this.
Could they?
“You all would be willing to do this?” Chard asked, circling the room. “All of you?”
“Yes, sir,” the team said in unison, as Scarlett let out a breath of shock.
She looked at Theo. “Did you do this?”
“I wish I could take credit,” he said. “But it was a team effort. Miles actually suggested it.”
She stepped toward the young player. “Really?”
Miles’s forehead scrunched up. A thin sheen of perspiration shimmered at the edge of his hairline.
Evidently, he didn’t like being the center of attention in these sorts of matters.
“It isn’t right for them to be fired because of my mistake, especially Dawson. She’s a good captain and great player.”
A tight, aching feeling settled in Scarlett’s throat as it dawned on her what they were doing.
Emotion filled her chest, and she began blinking, unwilling to shed any tears in front of a room full of wonderful people.
She turned to look at Theo, who was as rigid as the rest of the team, and her hand went to her necklace.
“Is this the reason you’re not taking the field?” Chard asked.
“They need to know if we’re forfeiting the game,” Gary said, entering the room.
Everyone turned to see what Chard would decide.
“Well?” Theo asked.
“I don’t know,” Chard said, glancing around. “Is this even feasible?”
“It is,” Aban said. “We’ve gone over the numbers with Ross a dozen times.”
“If I say no, you’ll refuse to play?”
Aban nodded. “Yes, sir.”
Chard looked at Scarlett. “What do you think about all this?”
She took a step toward him, clearing her throat.
“Honestly, this type of story would be wonderful to share with the media. A team united, coming together so that the women’s team remains intact?
The Bees will gain fans who don’t even care about the sport.
And more fans equal more money, and the team has a better shot at advancing. ”
Chard sighed loudly. “I suppose that’s true. And it would be a brilliant story.”
“Yes, it really would.”
With another hesitant scan of the room, Chard waved the piece of paper up in the air. “Very well. Let’s do this.”
A round of cheers exploded in the room, and Scarlett couldn’t help but clap and hop up and down as the players all slapped each other on the backs and congratulated one another.
Chard was quickly handed a pen, and while Scarlett was surprised to see him sign a contract without a lawyer present, she couldn’t help but smile when he did.
After another few seconds of celebrating, Theo blew a whistle, and the team stopped to pay attention.
“Let’s go, then,” he called, and the players charged out of the locker room.
He slowed as he passed Scarlett, who reached out and touched his arm. She wanted to apologize for what she had said yesterday, to talk everything out with him, but now wasn’t the time. With a knowing nod at her, he followed the men out, leaving Scarlett and Chard alone.