loved him with every inch of her being, every beat of her breaking heart, and she didn’t know if she could do this without him. She didn’t know if she wanted to. ‘Baby, I am so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.’
She took a deep breath, willing the tears to slow down, to give her a second to try and be strong. ‘Just call Max, Jim. Please. Let’s at least try and keep this thing under some kind of control, okay? That’s the best thing you can do for me right now.’ Letting go of him, the tears still streaming down her face, she stood up, pushing both hands through her hair as she took another deep breath. ‘I’m going to get ready. Just make sure everyone over there at Spartans knows the score, okay?’
‘Amber… You really don’t have to do this.’
She looked at him as he stood there, hands in his pockets, his handsome face sporting an expression that told her he probably was truly sorry for what he’d just done. For what he’d been doing for over twenty years. She just didn’t know if that was enough anymore. ‘No. I know I don’t.’
‘Let me come with you tomorrow, please. I don’t want you to go through this on your own.’
‘I’m used to it, Jim.’ She looked up at him, part of her wanting to slap him for hurting her yet again, but another part of her just wanting things to be normal. She wanted the clock to rewind and this day to begin again, without the surprises and the drama. ‘You’ve put me in a really uncomfortable position at work, too. I mean, people are going to ask why I didn’t let on about you being Brandon Palmer’s dad, that’s a given because of the job I do. For Christ’s sake, we were only talking about him yesterday in the studio, and now this has all come out… I’m going to have some explaining to do.’
‘You’re a professional, Amber. We both are, and we’ll get through this, I promise.’
She threw him another look that caused that flinch to return. ‘You and promises, Jim – they don’t go together, so don’t make them, okay? Just, don’t.’
She turned to walk into the bathroom but he quickly stopped her, gently grabbing her arm and swinging her round. ‘Amber… I love you, and you need to know that. You need to know just how much I love you, how much I really need you and I know you hate me doing this, but I promise you, baby, I will never, ever hurt you again. There are no more secrets, no more lies, no more skeletons in any closet, I promise you that.’ He looked into her eyes, eyes that were red and damp from the tears she was still crying, although they were falling silently now, running slowly down her beautiful face. He loved her so much, and the thought that this could push her away scared the hell out of him. ‘I love you, Amber. It’s as simple as that. I love you.’
She stared up at him, wanting to believe him, needing to believe him, because she didn’t want to lose him. Not again, she couldn’t face that. She couldn’t, she wasn’t strong enough, not anymore. ‘Yeah. I know you do. And despite everything, Jim, I love you, too. God help me, I love you, too.’
Ryan hung his head, watching out of the window as Ellen practically skipped down the road, away from his apartment building, off to enjoy a day with her friends in town, unaware that he wasn’t going to be around later like she hoped he was going to be. He had plans. The last thing he wanted her to think was that he was available at her beck and call whenever she wanted him. That was his territory.
Moving away from the window, he pushed a hand through his messed-up hair as he walked over to the kitchen. His head was still banging, that self-inflicted hangover making its appearance felt once again now the morning sex was over and reality was back. He needed some kind of quick-fix relief, especially as Max was due any minute now. He really didn’t want or need his agent to see him looking like shit, even if that’s exactly how he felt. But he’d needed last night, needed that chance to escape, even if it had only been for a few hours. He’d needed to be with someone, to do something that took his mind off everything that was going on, but he also knew he had to make a decision soon. He had to grow up and face things head-on, or he knew he could be in danger of losing it all – and he wasn’t willing to go there again.
Pouring himself a glass of orange juice, he sat down in a chair by the window, bowing his head, focusing on his blue and yellow trainers – one of the many freebies he’d been given over the course of his career. He’d lost count of how many others he’d received, everything from holidays to flat-screen TVs, even a car. And yet, right now, he’d give it all away if it meant he could just turn the clock back and make everything right. Turn his future into something he wanted, rather than something he needed to do.
Knocking back what he hoped would be a miraculous cure for his headache from hell, he wondered if a nice greasy fry-up would have been a better option, but he didn’t have the energy to crack an egg, never mind cook up the full works. Maybe he should have asked Ellen to make him breakfast before she’d left. He was sure she’d have done so gladly, but letting her take control in his kitchen might have sent off more of those wrong signals he really didn’t want her to pick up on. So a glass of orange juice would have to do.
He’d no sooner drained his glass, putting it down on the table in front of him, pushing it away with his foot, when he heard the front door of his riverside apartment open, causing him to look up sharply, which he soon realised had been a really bad idea, given his condition.
‘Jesus Christ. What happened to this being a secure building?’
Max Mandell, Ryan’s agent, kicked the front door shut behind him and walked into the large, open-plan living area, his hands shoved deep in the pockets of his no-doubt extremely expensive dark grey suit. ‘What’s wrong?’ he asked, looking briefly at Ryan before going straight into the kitchen and flicking on the kettle.
‘Huh?’ Ryan frowned, getting up and following Max. ‘What the fuck are you talking about?’
‘You look shifty,’ Max said, leaning back against the counter and folding his arms. ‘Like you’re up to something.’
‘What the…? Why do you always think the worst of me?’
Max just raised an eyebrow. Max Mandell was one of the most respected and revered football agents around, not to mention one of the shrewdest. He’d been Ryan’s agent for almost eight years and he knew him better than anybody, having been with him through the many highs and lows that Ryan’s career had experienced. His client list was short, but the names he had on that list were big names, names that brought the money in, and because of who he was and what he could do for his clients, the waiting list to get on his books was growing longer by the day.
‘Jesus…’ Ryan said, turning to look out over the view of the River Tyne, the hustle and bustle of Newcastle City Centre just minutes away from his doorstep. He loved this city, he loved the life he had. But he just wasn’t sure things could stay the way they were when he still felt the way that he did.
‘You promise me you’re not up to anything?’ Max asked, pouring boiling water into a mug he’d retrieved from the cupboard.
Ryan turned back around. ‘Is this how it’s gonna be from now on? You always two steps behind me, keeping an eye on me? Making sure I’m not lapsing back into my old ways?’
Max shrugged. ‘I don’t know, Ryan. Do I need to be two steps behind you?’
Ryan averted his eyes away from Max’s, rubbing a hand
