"I brought these for you," Julian said.
He dropped a bouquet of cheap red roses on my keyboard. A plastic bottle of painkillers rattled as he set it next to my mouse.
"Take them back," I told him.
"Evie, come on. The team doctor said you need rest and meds."
"I'm not taking anything from you. Clear my desk."
He leaned his palms on the edge of my cubicle, invading my space. "Why are you acting like this? I'm just trying to take care of you. You know I care about you."
"You care about yourself."
"That's not fair," he whined, his voice pitching up. "I bought those flowers with my last twenty bucks. I wanted to make you smile."
I swept my arm across the desk. The roses and the pill bottle tumbled into the plastic trash bin with a hollow thud.
Julian stared at the garbage can. His jaw clamped shut.
"Get out," I said.
"You're being ridiculous," he snapped.
"I'm working. Leave."
He spun on his heel and marched out of the staff room.
Chloe stepped out from behind the doorframe a second later. She clutched the strap of her canvas tote bag, her eyes darting toward the hallway where Julian had just disappeared.
"Why are you so mean to him?" she asked.
"How long were you standing there?"
"Long enough. He's gorgeous, Evie. And his footwork during yesterday's scrimmage was amazing. He really likes you."
"Do you need me to introduce you?" I asked.
Chloe waved her hands frantically, her cheeks flushing pink. "No! I would never date a guy who is chasing you. That’s totally unfair."
A sharp phantom ache spiked in my chest. The memory of crushing metal and shattering glass flashed behind my eyes. I gripped the armrests of my chair until my knuckles turned stark white.
*You never treat me like Evelyn does.*
The ghost of his voice rang in my ears.
"Right," I said. "Unfair."
"Anyway," Chloe continued, shifting her weight. "I actually came to ask a favor. I need a job. I'm totally broke, and my landlord is threatening to kick me out."
"You want to work for the team."
"I'll do anything. Laundry, organizing equipment, running errands. I just need a paycheck."
I studied her eager face. The same face that had betrayed me in my past life. Back then, I gave her an easy administrative role. I covered her mistakes. I handed her a career.
This time, I had a better plan.
"Julian needs an assistant," I said. "You can manage his gear and schedule."
Chloe’s eyes widened. "Really? You'd let me work with him?"
"Why not?" I forced a bright, naive smile. "I'm actually considering his pursuit. I might give him a chance. It would be nice to have my best friend keeping an eye on him for me."
A muscle jumped in Chloe's cheek. Her smile turned rigid, the corners of her mouth straining downward. Jealousy burned clear and bright in her pupils.
"Wow," she muttered. "I won't let you down."
"I know you won't."
I turned back to my monitor, dismissing her. Chloe lingered for a moment before shuffling out of the room.
I grabbed a stack of papers from my drawer and headed down to the field.
The stadium was empty except for one figure.
I found Adrian by the bleachers. He wiped sweat from his forehead with a gray towel.
I shoved a thick manila folder against his chest.
He grabbed it before it hit the turf. "What's this?"
"Your new training plan. I mapped out your drills for the next three weeks."
He flipped open the cover. His eyes scanned the printed charts. "This is double the conditioning Coach gave me. Where did you get this?"
"I wrote it." I snatched his empty water bottle from the bench and handed him a full sports drink from my cooler. "And I'm handling your schedule from now on. Your old assistant is reassigned."
Adrian took a long gulp. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "You're putting in a lot of unpaid overtime for a rookie."
"I told you I'm going to be your agent. This is step one."
"Step one is torturing me with extra sprints?"
"Step one is making sure your stamina lasts through the final twenty minutes of a match," I corrected. "You always lag in the fourth quarter. These drills will fix that."
He tossed the folder onto his duffel bag. "You know who my dad is, right?"
"Should I?"
"My father is the head of the national football committee."
My mouth dropped open. I stared at him, rapidly searching my memories. In my past life, Adrian never mentioned his family. Julian certainly never knew. If Julian had known Adrian was the committee head's son, he never would have dared to break his ankle.
"Your dad runs the committee?" I asked.
Adrian leaned against the metal railing. A smirk played on his lips. "You really didn't know."
"No. I had no idea."
"Then why are you doing all this?" He took a step closer, towering over my frame. "Are you just doing this because you like me?"
"Don't flatter yourself." I crossed my arms. "You have raw talent. You're the best player on this turf. I'm not going to sit back and watch you throw away your dream."
"My dream?"
"You want to play in Europe," I said. "You want to win the World Cup. You can't do that if you're lazy."
Adrian stared down at me. The smirk melted away, leaving an unreadable intensity in his dark eyes. The stadium lights reflected in his gaze.
"What if I said I kind of like you?" he whispered.
