“Shit,” I said again.
With Simon injured and our backup out of town, we were missing a good defender.
Sport for Hope relied on its summer fundraiser for the bulk of its annual donations. The match always sold out, but the real cash came from its secret benefactor. No one knew who it was, but apparently they had an odd way of calculating how much they’d donate. The number of goals scored by the winning team equaled how many times they’d match the ticket sales.
For example, if the match sold fifty thousand pounds worth of tickets and the winning team scored three goals, the donor would wire a hundred fifty thousand pounds to the charity.
It was strange, but people were strange.
The stipulation also meant we worked hard to recruit good players every summer. Better players usually meant more goals. Unfortunately, it was hard when the match took place during the offseason when everyone was on holiday.
“I don’t suppose you know anyone who can fill in?” Finley asked. Lines of stress bracketed the sides of his mouth. “I know it’s a big favor to ask at the last minute, but the new football pitch took a big chunk of our money last year. We need the extra donation match from SB.” SB stood for Secret Benefactor. Not a creative nickname, but it did the job.
“I don’t know.” I racked my brain for possibilities. “I want to help, but most of the players I know aren’t in…” I trailed off.
There was one defender who was in town and uninjured—one very good defender who made Simon look like an amateur (no offense to Simon).
No. My pride quashed the seed of possibility before it fully blossomed. There was no fucking way I’d ask him for help. I’d rather chop off my leg and serve it to him on a silver platter.
Then I looked at Finley’s pleading face, and I thought of all the kids his organization helped. Teddy had been one of those kids, which was how I found out about Sport for Hope in the first place. Besides London, it had chapters in Holchester, Manchester, and Birmingham.
Before Teddy’s mother remarried and his family moved next door to mine, his parents had struggled to put food on the table. Sport for Hope was the one that’d provided him with the resources to play football in a semi-professional setting for youths. Without them, we might’ve never bonded over the sport.
I joined the Sport for Hope tournament after Teddy died and stayed involved since. It was part atonement for my role in his death and part way to honor his memory. I couldn’t screw it up.
“Forget SB,” I said. “I can more than match the ticket sales.”
Finley’s expression crumpled into a scowl. “You say that every year, and my answer is the same every year. Absolutely not. You already do more than enough. I’m not taking advantage of you like that.”
I knew he would say that, but I had to offer.
“Don’t try to pull some secret shit with me either,” he added. “If a big, anonymous check comes in from anyone other than SB, I’ll know.”
Bloody hell. Finley was stubborn as hell, but his convictions were what made him a great leader.
Pride battled guilt for dominance. Was I going to fuck over Finley and the kids because I couldn’t set aside my rivalry for one weekend?
“I may know someone,” I finally said. The admission tasted bitter on my tongue. “I can’t guarantee he’ll agree to play, but I’ll ask. If he says no, we’ll have to sub in Ricky.”
Finley and I winced in unison. Ricky was their operations coordinator. He was a nice guy, and he played football in a local amateur league. He just wasn’t good. At all.
The last time he subbed in for a player, he accidentally tripped one of his teammates and scored for the opposing team. Twice.
“Please,” Finley said. “You’ll have our gratitude forever.”
After I ended our video call, I leaned back and stared at my office ceiling. The damn defender. I couldn’t ask him directly. He’d shut me down before I opened my mouth.
I would have to go through Scarlett, which was tricky considering he didn’t know about us yet. We’d decided to tell him in person together, after he officially returned to London.
But Scarlett and I had been training together all summer. It would make sense for us to develop a friendship, so her asking him a favor for me wasn’t inherently suspicious.
The clock ticked toward eight.
I was running out of time.
Fuck it. I bit the bullet and called her. I hated interrupting her girls’ night, but I didn’t have a choice.
“Hey, I’m sorry to bother you, but I have a time-sensitive favor to ask,” I said when Scarlett picked up. “Any chance you could convince your brother to play in the charity match tomorrow?”
CHAPTER 32SCARLETT
I didn’t know how, but I did it.
Well, okay, I kind of knew how—a guilt trip, a group photo of cute kids wearing their Sport for Hope-provided football kits, and a promise to let him choose our next four dinners in a row worked wonders in getting Vincent to sign up for the charity match.
I suspected having Asher owe him one helped as well. Knowing my brother, he’d never let Asher forget it.
Regardless, I was thrilled Vincent said yes. I knew how much the charity meant to Asher, especially given its connection to Teddy, and hopefully the match would be a first step toward my brother and my boyfriend tolerating each other.
“So Vincent wasn’t suspicious of you asking a favor for Asher?” Carina followed me to our front-row seats in the bleachers. The charity match took place at a local football stadium, and it was already packed with families.
“Nope. He bought my excuse that I was the messenger and that Asher asked me to ask him because it was an emergency.”
“When exactly are you going to tell him about you two?” Brooklyn took the seat on the other side of me. It didn’t take much convincing to get them both to come to the match today. Carina was always down for a fun outing, and Brooklyn was apparently a football fan. “You said next week?”
“That’s the plan.” My stomach danced with nerves as the players filed onto the field for warm-ups.
