Page 39 of Playing for Possession
“If anyone tries to force Joanie to do something she’s not comfortable with, then I’m out of here too, and I’ll be telling everyone about the unfair demands made on players.”
“You’re giving me a headache, Earnshaw. I don’t need all this Billy Big Bollocks stuff. Why can’t you ever just do what you’re told? We can’t piss these people off.”
I kept my stare level. What was he going to do? Kick me off the team? I’d find another team. “They pissed me off when they brought out that bikini. No one’s demanding I shove my meat and two veg into a fucking banana hammock, so why should Joanie have to have her ass on display?”
Joanie’s hand wrapped around my arm. Her eyes were soft and pleading. “I’ll do it, Kieran. It’s just a bikini. Please don’t get into trouble over it.”
I turned my attention back to Rob. “No bikini. Do whatever you want to me. I don’t care. I’m hanging up.”
My thumb hovered over the red circle to dismiss the call.
“Wait.” Rob’s voice stilled my thumb. “Calm down.” He released a sigh, but amusement flickered in his eyes. “A banana hammock? Thanks for the mental image.”
I shrugged. “I’m just calling out a double standard.”
“Right. Fine. I get it. It’s not on. I’ll talk to them. No promises.”
I could have given him a lot more shit, but Joanie looked so worried. “Good. You do that.”
Rob wrinkled his nose. “You’re a pain in my arse. You better get me the FA Cup this season.”
Rob hung up the phone, and I stared at the blank screen.
Joanie hugged herself. “You didn’t have to do that. I don’t want you to get in trouble because of me.”
“I told you, I’m used to trouble. What’s a little more?”
Chapter 18
Joanie
We rounded the corner to the villa, and a shocked gasp left my mouth. A gray-haired man sat on the lamplit terrace reading a newspaper and sipping red wine. Carlos Ramirez. One of the greatest footballers alive lounged a few feet away from me.
“Carlos?” Kieran said.
Ramirez lifted his head from his paper. He stood, and a huge grin overtook his weathered features. “Here he is! The minute you told me you were on vacation, I had to see it with my own eyes.”
“It’s so good to see you.” Kieran inclined his head to me.“This is my friend Joanie. She plays for Calverdale Ladies.”
Ramirez embraced Kieran, then came to me, kissing me lightly on the cheek. “Any friend of Kieran’s is a friend of mine.”
His nose butted my face as he swooped in to kiss me on the other cheek. I hadn’t anticipated a double-cheek kiss and I’d messed it up. Heat rose in my face. Ramirez looked and smelled like an advert for luxury cologne.
Somehow, I stammered out some words. “Thank you for letting us stay. It’s beautiful here.”
“I’m glad to have you.” Ramirez poured two glasses of wine and handed them out. “Join me for a drink?”
He lifted his glass and flashed Kieran a look I couldn’t interpret. “Sorry if I’ve interrupted your plans.”
“You haven’t. It’s always good to see you.” Kieran cleared his throat and sat. “Although I need a shower.”
Ramirez gestured to the empty seats. “Don’t run off. Sit. Just for a moment. Let me look at you.” Ramirez surveyed Kieran before turning his warm smile on me. “You play for the women’s team? How do you find it at Calverdale?”
I swallowed. “Oh, you know. OK . . .”
Crickets buzzed around us in the silence. My fingers trembled around my wine glass. I’d met so many famous people, but this was Carlos Ramirez. A living legend. His technique was flawless. Nobody could do the things he could with just one touch on the ball. Ramirez would probably be the best player on the pitch even if you stuck him in goal. On the field, he was a matador, and his opponents were bulls charging blindly at him. Only the man sitting at his side came close in terms of technical ability.
Ramirez took a sip of his wine and tilted his head toward Kieran. “On the plane over here, I was thinking about your first day at Madrid.”
