Page 6 of We'll Meet Again
The law was straightforward, for the most part. It was all laid out in black and white, and interpretations were argued in an orderly fashion. It was logical, procedural, and relatively consistent. Which was why Billie loved it. Of course, there wasn’t much litigation in contractual law, which was what she dealt with on a daily basis at the club, but the principles were much the same. She went to work, followed the rules, and filed things accordingly. It was busier this time of year with the January transfer window open, but Billie was grateful for that now. The last thing she wanted was to sit at her desk and stew about Greg.
She had already picked out her outfit - a tweed mini skirt with a matching blazer, a crisp button-down, and thigh high boots to go over her tights to keep her warm. She popped into the bathroom to twist her hair into her usual claw clip and swipe some mascara onto her lashes. She opened the same pink lipstick she had used for years and blotted it onto her lips. Her coat hung on an antique coat rack by the door (another one of Tessa’s finds that she couldn’t bear to part with), but before she went to grab it, she fetched a fresh cup of coffee in a travel mug. With transfers to deal with, she needed to be alert, and since she wasn’t running on sleep today, caffeine would have to suffice.
The wind bit at her cheeks, but luckily, it wasn’t too far of a walk from her flat to The Hive, home of the Stanmore FC Wasps. She didn’t care all that much for football, honestly. She just watched it with her dad or Tessa sometimes. But the club paid well, and it was a step in the right direction to have a job working in a legal department. She had not gotten the courage to apply to law school yet, but when she did, she would already have a leg up on her resume when she inevitably went somewhere else. Something she needed to remind herself as she braced to deal with her boss.
Warm air greeted her when she came through the staff entrance door. Billie zipped past the front office to the stairs, her eyes fixed on her phone, checking her emails before she reached her desk to avoid any surprises. Her notebook and pens were poised and ready for the morning rundown meeting. After shrugging off her coat, she swept them into her arms and headed for the conference room. As usual, she was the first person there.
She took a sip of coffee in an attempt to get warm. The rest of the legal team began to slowly trickle in, exchanging polite greetings with each other and offering cordial nods to Billie. Being the only woman in the room, she was used to such treatment. No handshakes or laughter or nicknames for her. But she preferred it that way.
Finally, Tony arrived.
“Good morning,” he said brusquely.
If you looked up “hot shot attorney” in the dictionary, there would be a photo of Tony Corelli’s face. He was every bit the archetype from his slicked back hair to his overpriced neckties and the Rolex that Billie frequently wondered why he bothered with considering she handled the entirety of his schedule. His perfectly tailored suits showed off his excellent form; people often mistook him for one of the players. His face certainly didn’t help that, with his clean, angular jawline and fiery brown eyes.
But appearance was not the only thing he had going for him. He could walk the walk. Not only did he study law at University of Cambridge, but he had rapidly established himself as one of the most cutthroat contract attorneys in the UK. Maybe even in Europe. His first job right out of law school was with Liverpool FC, where he learned the football business from the top. Since then, he had worked for Manchester United, Chelsea, and Arsenal. He ended up at Stanmore when his university friend, Ray Rogers, bought the club after its promotion back into the Premier League, and they were determined to reach the top four and get a shot at Champions League if they could.
“Alright, lots to do today,” Tony began. “We’ve got our signing from Charlotte FC arriving -” he stopped to check his watch. “Any fucking second now, really. And a Zoom meeting with Real Madrid to swipe that Brazilian winger out from under them. Billie, what time is that?”
“It’s at ten this morning,” she answered quickly. “But I really don’t think -”
“Didn’t ask what you think, Billie, just for the time of the meeting,” he cut across her.
She closed her mouth with a frown. If he didn’t want a warning that there was no chance of getting that winger, then so be it. But the emails she had gotten from Real Madrid, and the winger himself, gave every indication this was a battle they would lose.
“We’ve also got the re-signed contracts to process, so -”
“They’re already done,” Billie interjected. “I processed all the returning players’ contracts yesterday.”
Before my boyfriend - ex-boyfriend now - said that awful thing to me, she thought.Before I drank an entire bottle of wine to put myself to sleep after it. Before I realized I’m an emotionally unavailable fuckboy and I have no idea what to do about it.
Tony blinked. “Oh?”
“Yes.”
He put a hand on his hip and raised an eyebrow. “Yes, what?”
She plastered a pinched smile onto her face. “Yes,sir.”
“Very good,” he said. “You do good work around here, Billie, let’s not tarnish it with disrespect.”
Swallowing down the scathing reply laced with profanity that formed in her head, she picked up her pen to take notes of the meeting. As if her day couldn’t get any worse. In the last twelve hours, she’d been dumped, called on the carpet by her roommate, and now humiliated in front of half the people she worked for. A fleeting image passed in her mind of her launching herself to her feet, telling Tony off, and storming out in a great, dramatic performance, but she quickly dismissed it.
“Excuse me?”
A Southern drawl and knock at the door had all eyes turned away from Tony. There in the doorway stood a blond, rather tired, yet quite good-looking young man. He shifted his weight nervously from his left foot to his right, glancing at the floor when the attention was suddenly on him. The backpack slung over one of his broad shoulders and the rolling suitcase at his side indicated he’d just come from the airport. Not to mention the hoodie, joggers, and trainers he donned. The way he rubbed the back of his neck with a bashful humility might have been charming if not for one thing - Billie couldn’t stand him.
Logically, she understood her feelings were unfounded. She was certain she had never met this man before, despite the sudden intense lurch in her stomach that told her he must have done something to upset her. She took a deep breath to try and calm herself. It was probably her frustrations with other men that were making her react this way to a newcomer. She just needed to get a grip.
“Ah, Ethan Knight!” Tony said with the warmth he reserved only for the talent. “Welcome, please come in.” Ethan stepped timidly into the conference room. “Have you just come from the airport?”
Billie bit back a scoff at the question.
“Uh, yes, sir -”
“Please, call me Tony.”
Billie could have put her head through the table.