Page 17 of Hotshot

Ella had never been to Germany before, but she liked what she’d seen so far. The team were staying in a central Frankfurt hotel with a fantastic sauna, spa, and steam room suite on the top floor that Ella earmarked to make use of later. One plus point of being staff was she also had a room to herself, unlike the players who had to share. Even hotshots like Sloane. Ella smiled at that thought. She was far from the hotshot the media made out. She was a normal person, navigating her way through life like the rest of them.

The other part she’d enjoyed? The private plane they’d flown on. She was living the dream. She’d sent her cousin a selfie from the plane, with the team behind her.

I hope you got a couple of those cute bottles of bubbly on your private plane!Marina texted.

Ella grinned and typed,We’re an elite sports team. We’re not on a trip to Ibiza.

You’ve changed.Marina added, followed by a line of eyeroll emojis.

Ella stepped off the coach onto the sparkling clean pavement outside the hotel. Lucy was right behind her, wheeling her branded club suitcase.

The team checked in at the swanky reception, their blue tracksuits and Nike trainers looking out of place in the opulent lobby. The space was filled with gleaming white pillars, along with gargantuan pots of deep pink and purple flowers. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, while expensive, layered scents infused the air with calm.

Ella recalled flying to play a team in France during her playing days. They’d paid their own fares, travelled with their knees against their chests, carried their own bags, and stayed four to a room in a budget hotel. The jump to this was staggering.

To her left, a bell boy wearing a pillar box hat was getting a selfie with Sloane followed by an autograph. Ella stood back, marvelling again at her friend’s fame. She and Sloane might be crossing paths for a brief moment in their lives, but Sloane’s fame was deep-rooted and never likely to leave her. Ella would never be able to understand that.

“Team meeting in an hour in conference room A. Get settled, then be there for 5pm. Sloane’s going to share a story from her career then, too.” When Lucy spoke, the whole team stopped and listened, as if she were the most feared teacher in school. If she had her whistle, Ella imagined everyone in the lobby would have stopped mid-task to pay attention, like the well-schooled Von Trapps. Everyone including the desk staff and bell boys.

Ella waited for the team to disperse, with only a brief glance in Sloane’s direction. She was sharing with Layla, while Ella’s room was next to Lucy’s. They got the lift up together.

“I was watching on the plane, seeing who sat next to who, who spoke to who.” Lucy spoke directly to Ella, and didn’t once glance at her own reflection in the floor-to-ceiling lift mirrors. Quite the self-control. “The youngsters seem to be settling well.”

Ella smiled. “They are, but some of them are so green, it makes me laugh. I’m sure I was never that useless in real life when I was 19.” The music in the lift wafted around them like a soothing balm. This hotel took relaxation seriously.

“Take Nat. Such a sweet striker of the ball, fabulous football brain. Such a prospect, she’s frightening. But on Tuesday when I had a session with her, I asked her if she was missing anything from home. Her answer? Her mum’s spiced scrambled eggs on toast. I told her she could do that herself, she’s got a flat with a kitchen. But she said she wouldn’t know where to start. She can score a goal in front of thousands of fans, make the right decisions in a split second. But ask her to do something for herself and she’s stumped.”

Lucy ran a hand through her short, dark hair and grinned. “Tell me about it. I had to show Brie how to lace her own boot the other day. She said she could do it criss-cross but not straight across. I showed her it’s not that hard.”

“But life skills apart, I think the young ones are doing fine, and the newbies are settling in, too.”

Lucy thrust her right hand into the pocket of her navy suit and appraised Ella. “I saw you chatting with Sloane in the lounge at the airport, too. I know we all think she’s fine, but she’s a newbie, too. Even if she is older and won everything there is to win.”

“Not a Women’s Super League title, an FA Cup, or a Champions League.”

“That’s to come.” Lucy wagged her index finger as she spoke. “But seriously, she’s okay? I asked her, and I think I believe her.”

Ella pressed her tongue into the roof of her mouth and willed her cheeks not to flush red. “She’s fine. She lives in my block, so we’ve got to know each other a little outside work. She’s enjoying the UK so far. Plus, she bought a new coffee machine the other day, so I think she’s planning on staying.”

The lift reached their floor, and they both stepped onto the bouncy carpet and walked to their rooms.

“Those players run on coffee. Wait until they hit 40 and can’t sleep a wink after drinking it.” Lucy smiled as she walked. “I’m really pleased she’s chatting to you, though. Beyond your work remit, it’s good for her to have a friend she can count on who’s not another player. I was always friends with staff when I played, and I valued those relationships so much.” She paused. “I know our paths didn’t really cross that much back in the day, but are you still in touch with any of your old teammates?”

Ella shook her head. It was something she regretted, but when she made the decision to walk away from football, she cut all ties. “Not really. Which is why it’s nice getting to know these players, seeing how things have changed. Including the rookies, and even superstars like Sloane. I’m looking forward to her session today.”

Lucy nodded. “You think they’re a good idea?”

“I think they’re more than that. They get everyone to trust each other more. They’re a stroke of genius.”

CHAPTER9

The hotel conference room was like every other Sloane had ever experienced in her life. Flip chart. A horseshoe of chairs and desks. Shaded out windows. Coffee, tea, biscuits. She was sure many business deals had been hammered out over these desks. But today, Sloane stood at the top of the horseshoe, right hand in her club tracksuit pocket, her bottom lip clutched under her two front teeth. She was trying to stay calm, but she’d never shared her full story before. She’d decided today was time.

“Okay, everyone.” Lucy clapped her hands. “Let’s have a bit of silence for Sloane’s story. She’s bravely stepped up to share the first tale from a player. Next up will be Dan our head physio, and after that, I’ll choose another player. Listen, learn, respect the speaker’s bravery, because it takes courage to speak your truth. Phones away, please, ears open. And remember, whatever is shared in these sessions doesn’t go any further. Circle of trust.” She smiled. “Or rather, horseshoe.”

Everyone laughed, and the mood relaxed.

Sloane gave her a nod, then cleared her throat.

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