As he walked away, he was sure he heard her mutter, ‘What an ass.’
She was entitled to her opinion. He wasn’t very impressed by her, either. But they’d just have to make the best of it, for as long as it took for Archie and the team director to realise that her ‘research’ was all a load of hokum.
‘HE’S IMPOSSIBLE. TALK about blinkered. And narrow-minded. And—and—Arrgh!’ Bailey stabbed her fork into her cake in utter frustration.
To her dismay, Joni just laughed.
‘You’re my best friend,’ Bailey reminded her. ‘You’re supposed to be supportive.’
‘I am. Of course I am,’ Joni soothed. ‘But you’re the queen of endorphins. You always see the best in people, and to see you having a hissy fit about someone—well, he’s obviously made quite an impression on you.’
‘And not a good one.’ Bailey ate a forkful of cake and then rolled her eyes at the plate. ‘Oh, come on. If I’m going to eat this stuff, it could at least reward me with a sugar rush.’
‘Maybe it just makes you grumpy.’
Bailey narrowed her eyes at her best friend. ‘Now you’re laughing at me.’
Joni reached over the table and hugged her. ‘I love you, and you’re in an almighty strop. Which doesn’t happen very often. This Jared Fraser guy has really rattled you.’
Bailey glowered. ‘Honestly. He quizzed me on every single aspect of my project.’
‘Which is better than just dismissing it.’
‘He did dismiss it, actually. He thinks the players should be doing sport-specific training.’
Joni coughed. ‘You’re the sports medicine doctor, not me. And I seem to remember you saying something about sport-specific training being the most effective.’
‘But it’s not the only kind of training they should be doing,’ Bailey said. ‘Yoga means dynamic stretches, which are more effective than static ones. And there’s the discipline of holding the pose and doing the breathing. It’s really good for the boys, and it helps them to focus.’
‘Maybe you should make Jared do the stuff with the boys,’ Joni suggested. ‘And you can make him do extra planks.’
‘Don’t tempt me.’ Bailey ate more cake. ‘Actually, Joni, that might be a good idea. He needs to chill out a bit. Downward dog and breathing—that would do the trick.’
‘I’d love to be a fly on the wall when you suggest it to him,’ Joni said.
‘No, you wouldn’t. You hate people fighting—and he really doesn’t like me.’
‘You don’t like him, either,’ Joni pointed out.
‘Well, no. Because he’s rude, arrogant and narrow-minded. With men like him around, I’m more than happy to stay single.’
They both knew that wasn’t the real reason why Bailey was resolutely single. After her life had imploded two and a half years ago, her marriage had cracked beyond repair. And Bailey still wasn’t ready to risk trying another relationship. She didn’t know if she ever would be.
‘I don’t know what to say,’ Joni said, giving her another hug, ‘except I love you and I believe in you.’
‘You, too,’ Bailey said.
‘And I worry about you. That you’re lonely.’
‘That’s because you’re all loved up. Which is just as it should be,’ Bailey said, ‘given that it’s just under two months until you get married to Aaron. And he’s a sweetie.’
‘Even so, I worry about you, Bailey.’
‘I’m fine,’ Bailey said, forcing herself to smile. ‘Just grumpy tonight. And don’t breathe a word of this to my mum, or she’ll say that I’m attracted to Jared Fraser and I’m in denial about it.’
‘Are you?’ Joni asked.
Bailey blew out a breath. ‘You’re about the only person who could get away with asking that. No. He might be nice looking if he smiled,’ she said, ‘and to be fair he does have nice eyes. The colour of bluebells. But even if he was as sweet as Aaron, I still wouldn’t be interested. I’m fine exactly as I am. I don’t need anyone to complicate my life.’
Her words were slightly hollow, and she was pretty sure that Joni would pick up on that. But to her relief Joni didn’t push it any further, or comment on that stupid remark she’d made about bluebells.
She wasn’t attracted to Jared Fraser. She wanted to give him a good shake and tell him to open his mind a bit.
And bluebells were out of the question.
Before the next match, Bailey had a meeting with Archie to discuss the latest results from her software. As she’d half expected, Jared was there. Still playing dour, strong and silent. Well, that was his problem. She had a job to do.
‘Travis is underperforming,’ she said, showing them the graph on her laptop screen. ‘It might be that he’s had too many late nights over the last week, or it might be that he’s coming down with something—but I’d recommend that he doesn’t play as part of the team today.’
‘I’ve already assessed the squad this morning, and they’re all perfectly fit,’ Jared said.
‘A player who’s underperforming is at a greater risk of soft-tissue injury,’ she reminded him.
‘According to your theory. Which has yet to be proven, because if you pull a player off every time they do a few steps less per game, then of course he won’t get a soft-tissue injury, because he won’t actually be playing. And if you follow that through every time, you’ll end up with a really tiny pool of players. And the rest of them won’t have had enough practice to help them improve their skills.’
‘If they’re off for weeks with an injury, that’s not going to help them improve their skills, either,’ she pointed out.
‘Travis is fine.’ He folded his arms. ‘You’re making a fuss over nothing.’
‘Travis isn’t fine.’ She mirrored his defensive stance. ‘But it isn’t our call. It’s Archie’s.’
‘Fine,’ Jared said.
Archie looked at them both and sighed. ‘I’ll have a word with the lad.’
Clearly Travis was desperate to play, because Archie came back to tell them that the boy was in the team.
If Jared said ‘Told you so’, she might just punch him.
He didn’t. But it was written all over his face.
Cross, Bailey sat on the bench at the side of the pitch and texted her best friend: Jared Fraser has to be the most smug, self-satisfied man in the universe.
A few seconds later, her phone beeped. She glanced at the screen, expecting Joni to have sent her a chin-up-and-rise-above-it type of message, and was surprised to see that the message was from Jared Fraser. Why would he be texting her? He was sitting less than six feet away from her. He could lean across and talk to her. He didn’t need to resort to texting.
Curious, she opened the message. Herod?
What?
Don’t understand, she texted back. Ridiculous man. What was he on about?
Her phone beeped a few seconds later. Your message: «Herod Fraser has to be the most smug, self-satisfied man in the universe.»
Then