Erik smiled. “I wish I had poetry like you. Women like that sort of thing.”
“Women?” he asked, raising his brow. They had gone to Chicago for Erik last spring, for the express purpose of finding him a nice girl. Jamie had theorized that in the States, where European football wasn’t followed, no one would know who Erik was or how much was in his bank accounts and, therefore, it’d be easier to find a nice woman who wanted him and not his money or status.
It'd worked—for Jamie. His Rachel was one of the loveliest women Didier had ever met.
Erik had returned to England and football without his nice girl. But the kid was very young. If he’d had been truly ready for love, it would have found him. Didier knew this from experience.
“Speaking of women,” Erik said. He dropped onto the white couch in what looked like a barren apartment. “This woman came by the club asking for you.”
“What woman?”
“She said her name was Emily Robinson.”
Didier blinked. “Emily?”
“It’s funny, because that’s the same name as that love guru on the podcasts. Do you know her?”
It wasn’t funny—shewasthe love guru on the podcasts.
And he knew her intimately. They’d met in a hotel bar in Barcelona five years ago, when he’d been there for a match. She’d been the only woman who hadn’t even glanced at any of the players. She’d sat in her corner of the bar with her sleek laptop, focused on what she was doing. It’d intrigued him so much that he’d gone to interrupt her. They’d spent half the night talking.
They’d spent the other half of the night making love, the kind he could still taste, it had been so hot and connected.
They’d seen each other again in Paris a few months later. She was there for a book signing—she was a popular relationship expert. He’d been home on break from the season. They’d had a marvelously passionate weekend before she’d had to leave.
They’d carried on that way for two months, seeing each other when they could, but it’d been difficult. He had his schedule, and she had hers. She’d been the only woman to ever make him wish he’d had a different career.
Timing. He shook his head. Theirs had always been off.
It was rare to meet a woman like that—industrious and ambitious, smart and successful, who was honorable. On some dark lonely nights, he still thought about her. Sometimes he wondered…
He shook those fantasies away. Who wanted a walking bomb in their life? “What did she need?”
“She said she wanted to speak to you.” Erik leaned into the screen. “One of the guys told her you were in Chicago working with Jamie before I could stop him. Sorry.”
“It is okay.” He waved it off, but his heart gave a little leap. Before it could get out of control, he put his hand on his chest and breathed evenly.
“Is she special?” Erik asked with his characteristic innocence.
Does the sun rise every morning?“I have not seen her in three years,” he answered, though he knew they both recognized it was no answer.
When he got off the phone with Erik, he couldn’t resist the temptation. Sitting down, he typed her name into Google. He blinked in shock at the first headline he saw:
Emily Robinson Exposed!
Then he read the second, and suddenly he knew why she was trying to reach him.
Love Guru Loses Her Mojo
He leaned back in his seat. The question was, was he going to risk his shaky heart to help her get her mojo back?
* * *