gotten pretty damn drunk — in the off season, mind you — and made the news. Who knew there would be such a reaction to climbing on top of the lion statue outside the parliament building?
“Thankfully Rene isn’t here. I’ll go to bed when the sun comes up. Don’t worry.”
“It’s my job to worry,” he says, handing me my very unappealing vodka soda. “That’s why I’m the coach.” He narrows his eyes, examining my face. “Are you ready for next week?”
“Of course,” I tell him. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“First real game of the season. It sets the tone for the rest of the year, and nothing comes easy in La Liga. When we step onto the field in UEFA and the other teams see our badge, they cower. Bayern. Paris. Chelsea. They lose. When we play here in Spain, we’re no better than the rest of them.”
“We are better, though,” I tell him. “That’s just the truth.”
He puts his hand on my shoulder and squeezes it. “I can always count on you for your blind optimism, Alejo.”
“It’s not blind,” I tell him. “You’re the coach. The manager. You know what we’re capable of.”
“I know, I know. But the truth is, other teams are capable too. The difference is, when we play Sevilla, when we play Barcelona, when we play Atlético, they don’t cower. They just think, it’s Los Blancos, we can beat them. I just want you to go into the game thinking there’s a chance we can lose and that we must do everything in our power to not let it happen. We can’t get cocky.”
This isn’t the first time that Mateo has had a talk with me over being too “cocky.” The press say it’s my downfall, that I’m magic on the pitch, that I can handle the ball like no one else, like it’s stuck to my foot, and I can get it into the goal like a magnet.
But then I let it go to my head. I relax. I lose my edge. I know this about myself, but there can’t be a downside to thinking you’re the greatest, can there?
“We will win on Saturday,” I assure him. “It’s Sevilla and they’re on our turf. We have all of Madrid backing us. We will win. I will score the winning goal, you’ll see.”
“You know, even when I was your age, I wasn’t this confident,” he says, amused.
My chest grows tight at that. “I’ve overcome a lot to be here,” I tell him, my tone serious.
He nods, giving me a sympathetic smile. “I know you have.”
I don’t want to get deep, not now when I’m drinking. I gesture over to where everyone else is sitting. His wife Vera is animated, telling some story, waving her hands around. “What do you think about the new girl?” I ask him.
He doesn’t look impressed as he eyes me. “Thalia? Don’t let her catch you calling her a girl. She won’t take it lightly. And I think she’ll do just fine, once she adapts to us and how we are.”
“Can I ask you something?”
He shrugs. “Sure, why not?”
“Why did you hire her?”
Mateo blinks at me. “You have a problem with her?”
“Not at all. I’m just curious. It was a bold move. Pissed off the good doctor, that much is for sure.”
“Perhaps I wanted to piss off the good doctor,” Mateo says with a smirk as he takes a sip of his whisky. “And Vera talked me into it. You know we needed someone after Pablo left. Vera said we could make history by hiring her, and she was more than qualified. So I did it.” He tilts his head, studying me. “I don’t have to tell you to leave her alone, do I?”
“Leave her alone? I’ve barely spoken to her. In fact, I was planning on rectifying that tonight.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I don’t.”
I do.
“I know you think you have no control over your charms, but you do. Try not to use them on her. Do not try and rectify anything. She needs to focus on her job, not some young hotshot player who keeps giving her the eyes.”
“I have not given her the eyes.”
I have.
So what?
“Besides,” I go on, “why aren’t you warning Rene about her? Or Luciano? She seems pretty captivated by him right now, he’s the captain, they’re around the same age…it makes sense.”
“I have warned Rene about her already,” he says. “And I don’t need to talk to Luciano. He’s nearly as old as I am, and he