Free The Striker's Chance by Rebecca Crowley

fairly hostile write-up in the Recorder from Evan Barstow. But that was only one paper and—
    “De Klerk came to us with a tough reputation, but so far you’ve handled it brilliantly.” Sharon’s calm tone cut into Holly’s frantic thinking.
    “Oh, good,” she breathed, unable to conceal the relief in her voice.
    Sharon chuckled again, a sound that told Holly in no uncertain terms who was the suave city director and who was the North Carolina hayseed.
    “Has he been hard to handle?”
    “He’s a breeze,” she lied. It’s just my libido I can’t control.
    “That’s not what I hear from Sven Brock.”
    Holly smacked her forehead. Of course, she was probably on the phone to the team’s manager every other day.
    “You know what athletes at his level are like,” Holly replied, hoping she sounded effortlessly savvy. “I let him think he’s making the decisions, and we get along fine.”
    “I think you could give Sven some lessons on ego management,” Sharon agreed, and Holly closed her eyes in gratitude. “He told me you took de Klerk to look at houses as though that was crazy. Personally I think it was a stroke of genius, and judging from today’s match, it produced the kind of performance we’d expected.”
    Holly fought a sudden, irrational urge to remind Sharon that Kepler had a first name. “Like I said, it’s all down to giving him the impression of control.”
    “But we know who really holds the strings.” Sharon laughed. Holly echoed her reaction, but she had to force it. Kepler was one of the most fiercely independent athletes she’d met, and as much as that frustrated her, she also grudgingly admired him for it. She knew it was right to tell this woman what she wanted to hear, yet on some level she felt she was betraying Kepler.
    “Let me cut to the chase. De Klerk is an asset for Discovery’s potential as a team, sure, but he’s also an investment for LKC Energy. As a result of your efforts both in and out of the press, his public image is already turning around. We’ve had some early offers, but we feel that with sustained good coverage over the rest of the season plus a top-three finish for Discovery in the Eastern Conference, we could sell de Klerk to any other Championship League team—maybe even an overseas side—for a hefty return on what we paid.”
    Holly frowned. “But LKC Energy is just the sponsor—the company doesn’t hold any shares in the club.”
    “It’s a complicated financial arrangement,” Sharon said dismissively. “LKC Energy is a subsidiary of LKC Group, an investment vehicle with a majority shareholding from Abbott Investors, who also own a private equity firm that trades as Abbott Partners...”
    “Who own the majority shareholding in Discovery,” Holly supplied, recognizing the name. “Got it.”
    “Point being,” Sharon continued, “that de Klerk is just like any other kind of investment. We bought him cheap, and we aim to sell him high.”
    LKC Energy yanked him out of South Africa, dragged him all the way to Charlotte, only to sell him after four or five months?
    Holly stared at the television screen as she listened in mute disgust. Discovery had tied with Pittsburgh, and the two teams were shaking hands before filing out of the stadium. Kepler exchanged a quick, friendly word with Pittsburgh’s captain, both men smiling as they each vigorously pumped the other’s hand.
    “What about Kepler? What if he doesn’t want to go?”
    Sharon snorted, an undignified sound that jarred with her sleek demeanor. “Why would he want to stay at a struggling team if he had a better offer somewhere else? He’s only here because he’s desperate. But you’re changing all that for him.”
    “Uh huh.”
    “And if everything goes to plan, you’ll not only get a fat slice of the de Klerk pie, there will be a desk in New York with your name on it. If you want it, that is.”
    “I do,” Holly said too quickly, her heart racing at the very idea. She had