Page 5 of How To Tackle A Crush
“There is no one else.”
“I could prepare briefing notes for someone remotely.”
“No.”
“I could remain here and support production.”
“No.”
I try one last time, weaker now.
“I am not particularly… press-conference shaped.”
AJ makes a choking sound that is definitely laughter he is trying to hide.
“Ava,” Marie-Louise says, sounding tired now, “you will sit in a chair and write things down. This is within your capabilities.”
My grip tightens slightly on my pen.
This is happening. There is no version of this conversation where I can escape.
My brain immediately starts doing what it always does when I am pushed into unfamiliar territory. Running scenarios. Identifying risks. Planning exits.
Press conference means journalists.
Journalists means questions.
Questions mean attention.
Attention means speaking.
I do not like speaking without preparation. Speaking without preparation is how people accidentally sayirregardlessin public and have to move cities.
And add to all of this, Jack Westland.
Everyone knows the name.
England striker. Played abroad. Now a manager. Successful. Famous. The sort of man who appears in newspapers even if you only read the culture section. Dark hair with grey at the sides, effortless good looks that makes women of all ages go gaga. That serious expression he always seems to have in photographs. Like he is thinking three moves ahead of everyone else.
Also, if headlines are to be believed, extremely good with women.
That part I know because Chloe once delivered a ten minute rant about how male athletes get described like prize stallions while female athletes get described like disappointments.
I know enough to know he is exactly the kind of person who belongs in rooms I normally avoid.
My stomach does a small, unhelpful twist.
“What exactly do you want me to do?” I ask.
“Sit in the back. Take notes. Send me a summary.”
That at least sounds survivable.
“I do not need to speak?”
“No.”
“I do not need to network?”
