Final Score. Michelle Betham

absolutely positive people were going to be able to tell what she’d been doing in here. She was sure of it. And she didn’t care. ‘You get off on this, don’t you?’ She pulled him towards her by his shirt collar. ‘Fucking me, in your office. You really get off on it.’

      His arm snaked around her waist, his smile widening. ‘I could be fucking you anywhere, Amber, and I’d get off on it. Jesus, just thinking about you gives me an instant hard-on.’

      ‘Well, try not to let that happen out there, okay?’

      ‘Can’t promise.’

      She moved her mouth closer to his as she spoke. ‘Try.’

      ‘Still can’t promise.’

      She was lost in him again, falling into his kiss like the lovesick teenager he was constantly going to make her feel she was. Almost forty years old and still she couldn’t stop herself from feeling like that sixteen-year-old kid she’d been when this man had first walked into her life.

      The sound of someone clearing their throat made them both jump apart, and Amber looked over toward the door. Max was standing there, arms folded, a look of something bordering on slight amusement on his face.

      ‘You two finished?’

      Jim took another step backwards, his hands now in his pockets, his head down as he gave a small laugh. ‘Yeah. Yeah, we are.’ He raised his eyes slightly, giving Amber a look that only made those stomach somersaults start up all over again. ‘I’d better go. I’ve got a big announcement to make.’

      Amber straightened his collar, quickly kissing him before he grabbed his jacket from the back of the couch and slipped it on.

      ‘I’ll see you in there?’ he asked, turning back around to look at her.

      She nodded, folding her arms and smiling at him. ‘Yeah. I’ll see you in there… Jim?’ He turned around again, his eyes fixed on hers. ‘You are sure about this, aren’t you?’

      He didn’t know whether she was talking about him taking the Endleigh United job, or whether she was talking about them, but either way, he couldn’t be more sure about anything. ‘I’m sure.’ He smiled, and she leaned back against the desk to steady her already weak knees. ‘I love you, Amber.’

      ‘Yeah. I love you, too,’ she whispered, watching as he left the room.

      Max closed the door behind him. ‘Well, thanks for making me sit through something bordering on some schmaltzy scene from a Hollywood movie.’

      She looked up and poked her tongue out at him.

      ‘Nice. You know, if you took Ice magazine up on their second, much more lucrative offer, and did exactly that whilst wearing nothing but your ex-husband’s suit jacket you’d make sure they sold so many copies they’d have to order a dozen reprints.’

      ‘I’m going to start ignoring you. I’m almost on the wrong side of forty now, and I’ve just had a baby. I think my days of doing glamour shoots are over.’

      ‘You’ve only done the one.’

      ‘Exactly.’

      ‘But you’ve got a body kids half your age would kill for.’

      ‘So? Does that mean I have to get it out for all and sundry to look at? And why are we talking about this?’

      Max walked further into the room, stopping to check out the array of Manager of the Month awards that lined the wall of Jim’s office. ‘This has shattered Ryan.’

      ‘I can’t help that, Max.’

      He turned to face her. ‘Maybe you should have trusted him. Given him a little more credit. Told him about this before now.’

      ‘Don’t lay the guilt trip on me, Max, please. I feel bad enough as it is.’

      ‘Was he okay? When you left him?’

      ‘He seemed fine.’

      ‘Seemed?’

      ‘He seemed fine, Max. Okay? What do you want me to say? I can’t spend the rest of my life worrying about his, I can’t do that. Not any more.’

      ‘I know. I know you can’t.’

      ‘I care about him, believe me. And what I’m doing, I’m not proud of it. I didn’t want any of this to happen. But Jim, he’s… he’s like some drug I just can’t give up. He’s a lifelong addiction, Max. And I can’t kick it.’

      Max looked at her. ‘Then Ryan’s just going to have to deal with that, isn’t he?’

      ‘Yeah. Yeah, he is.’

       *

      ‘Have you seen this?’ Gary stared up at the huge, oversized TV screen that hung on the wall in his pristine white kitchen. ‘What the fuck…?’ He looked at Ryan. ‘Did you know about this?’

      Ryan didn’t look at the TV. He just continued to sink mouthful after mouthful of beer from the bottle Gary had just given him. ‘I didn’t know a fucking thing, mate. Not until a couple of hours ago.’

      ‘Jesus…’ Gary looked at the TV again, turning the volume up so he could hear Jim Allen as he spoke.

      ‘Does that have to be so loud?’ Debbie stopped in her tracks as she joined them in the kitchen, her eyes automatically going to the screen. ‘Has he just said he’s leaving Newcastle Red Star?’

      ‘Shut up, Debbie, will you? I’m trying to listen.’

      ‘What about Amber?’

      ‘What about her? Can you just zip it for a second, huh? Just let me listen.’

      Debbie sat down at the breakfast bar that separated the functional part of the kitchen from the family room area. Not that any area of Debbie’s kitchen was particularly functional. She very rarely cooked anything that needed more than a quick re-heat, so it was little wonder that every one of her many expensive appliances were still sparkling and brand new.

      ‘When the fuck did this all kick off?’ Gary sat back down, taking a big swig from his own bottle of lager. ‘And who told you?’ He directed that question at Ryan, who was still refusing to look up.

      ‘Max. Well, he didn’t tell me, as such, he mentioned it and… Look, does it matter who told me?’

      ‘So, it wasn’t Amber who told you?’ Debbie asked.

      Ryan finally looked up, his eyes meeting Debbie’s. ‘No. It wasn’t Amber who told me. And before you start giving me the Spanish Inquisition, yes, I’ve spoken to her, and no, everything isn’t fine.’

      ‘That’s why you’re round here, then, is it?’ Gary took another swig of lager, smirking slightly at Ryan, who ignored him.

      ‘Do you want me to go?’

      ‘That’s not what I said, mate.’

      ‘She never said anything to me…’ Debbie’s voice trailed off as she fished her mobile phone out of her pocket.

      ‘Well, it would seem she didn’t say much to anyone,’ Ryan sniffed. ‘And I wouldn’t bother trying to call her. She’ll be in there.’ He cocked his head toward the TV, where questions were now being fired left, right and centre at Jim Allen.

      Debbie put her phone down and sat back on her stool, looking over at Ryan. ‘I can’t believe this. I’m assuming, because of the state of you, that Amber’s going with him?’

      ‘Why else do you think he’s leaving, Debbie?’ Gary got up to fetch two more bottles of lager from the imposing double fridge at the back of the room.

      ‘Okay. Don’t start on me.’ She looked back over at Ryan. ‘I thought you would’ve been glad to see the back of Jim Allen.’