When Fools Rush In

Chapter 1 - Easy Rider

Lucy had been at Manchester City for two weeks.

She was in her mid-30s and had worked for a number of years in PR in London, predominately in sport: cricket, tennis, rugby, athletics - she had felt like she'd done it all. She had navigated the 2012 Olympics at the age of 26, working with some of the brightest minds in the business. She knew Wimbledon inside out. She was sports mad. But a failed long-term relationship and a job that had broken her mentally meant that she had had enough of London. She needed to try something different. This is when she thought she would take the plunge and give football a try. She had been sceptical at first - stories of sexism and the bad reputation of some football fans had put her off, not least the cardboard personalities of footballers past. Yet a lifelong friend of hers, Tara, who had lived in Manchester for a decade now, had spotted the opening and had persuaded her it was time to make a fresh start.

The first two weeks had been a whirlwind - the Community Shield, the start of the Premier League season...a slow start that was picking up. She had met the staff, the players, and was thrilled at how friendly and welcoming everyone was. After the Euros she had been particularly excited to meet the England players before training one morning, as she worked with the social media team to plan the day's content.

She knew plenty about Jack Grealish. Her friend Tara - who was happily married - had become obsessed with him during the Euros. Lucy hadn't really seen the appeal at the time.

"I think Stones is better, " Lucy had said.

"Nah, Jack is seriously fit," retorted Tara. "How can you not?"

Lucy had scrunched her face up. To be honest, she'd not really had time to even get to know who Jack Grealish was. He was new to the England squad and she'd become familiar with the team of 2018 who so nearly made it to the World Cup final. Grealish had a 90s vibe about him, but everyone was very excited about his potential. There had to be a reason.

It was when she met the Man City squad that fateful morning during training that she had the lightbulb moment.

Sterling, Foden and Stones had shaken her hand, laughing about the kind of video shots they might create for City's social media accounts that morning. Jack then appeared, fiddling with his left short leg, strands of hair falling over his eyes. He held out his hand to Lucy.

"Mornin'" Jack said in his thick Brummie accent.

"Nice to meet you," Lucy responded, professionally, shaking his hand. His hand felt big and solid, gripping her palm. She found herself looking straight into his eyes and her stomach immediately flipped. Taken aback, she stepped backwards, looking at the floor.

"So you're the one who sorts out all this media stuff?" Jack said, gesturing to several photographers standing at the edge of the training pitch.

"Yes I'm City's PR manager," replied Lucy, "so all the press you do comes through me. But it also means you lot have to behave yourselves!"

Stones cackled and Jack smirked. He considered Lucy as she stood before him. She was of average height and build, with long brown hair and wide eyes. She had a glimmering smile and although she was at ease with him and his teammates, there was something that told Jack that she was not to be messed with. It was probably part of being a PR person but she was well-spoken, confident and almost intimidating. Jack felt himself almost quivering in her presence. She intrigued him.

Lucy looked back at Jack. Fuck, he really was as good looking as Tara had been saying. She couldn't help herself glance down at his legs - the famous calves - and again her stomach flipped. There was something emanating from him, a sensual, playful vibe that she couldn't shake off. Her eyes cast themselves back to his face. Chiselled, perfectly sculpted. He was jesting with Foden and Lucy found a cold sweat gathering on the back of her neck. She went to say her goodbyes and Jack turned and winked at her. Flustered, Lucy returned to her social media colleagues by the entrance to the training ground. She'd forgotten what she was even supposed to do that morning.