Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“What do you mean, ‘we’re getting a new coach’ ? And who, by the way, doesn’t know a single thing about football and has never coached football before?” 

This was the first thing Rebecca Welton heard when she arrived at Nelson Road that morning, her purse still slung over her shoulder. The voice belonged to her younger sister, Emma Welton, who was standing in the middle of the office with her arms crossed and a look of disbelief on her face. Emma’s blond hair was tied back in a loose ponytail, and her Richmond blazer was slightly wrinkled—a clear sign she had rushed to the stadium after hearing the news.

Rebecca sighed, setting her purse down on the desk with deliberate calm. “He has coached football before, Emma,” she replied, her tone showing amusement by her sister’s reaction. “And frankly, I think we need a new face around here. Preferably one that doesn’t come with inappropriate shorts.”

Emma raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “He coached American football, Rebecca. You know, the one with the helmets and the padding and the... whatever they do over there. That’s not the same thing. Not even close.” 

Rebecca straightened her posture, her icy blue eyes locking onto Emma’s. “It’s close enough. And besides, I thought you would be the first one to set off fireworks after I fired George.”

Emma opened her mouth to argue but stopped herself. She knew better than to push Rebecca when she had that look in her eyes—the one that said the conversation was over, whether anyone else agreed or not. Instead, she exhaled sharply and shook her head. 

“Fine. But don’t come crying to me when the team is relegated and the fans are burning things outside the stadium.” She paused, then added with a smirk “And I planned the fireworks for the sunset, by the way. Who do you think I am?”

Rebecca smiled lightly. “Noted. Now, if you’ll excuse me, the new coach is on his way. Try to look supportive, will you? It’s not every day we welcome a new coach.”

As Rebecca signed at the door, Emma muttered under her breath while leaving the office, “I really hope she knows what she’s doing”

[...]

Emma was walking towards her office when she spotted the kit man, Nathan, deep in conversation with two strangers. Both men were holding suitcases, looking distinctly out of place in the bustling corridors of Nelson Road. The first one was tall and broad-shouldered, with a friendly, almost boyish smile and a mustache that seemed to have a personality of its own. The second man, slightly shorter and more reserved, had a full beard and sport sunglasses hanging around his neck.

Nathan, looking both nervous and intrigued, was nodding along as the taller man spoke animatedly, gesturing with his hands as if he were telling the most fascinating story in the world. The other man stood quietly beside him, occasionally glancing around like he was mentally mapping the place.

Emma frowned, her curiosity piqued, and she approached the trio. “Nathan,” she said, her tone polite but firm, a smile playing on her lips, “who are our guests?”

Nathan jumped slightly, as if he hadn’t noticed her approaching. “Oh, uh, Ms. Welton!” He gestured toward the two men, suddenly at a loss for words.

The man with the mustache stepped forward, extending his hand with a grin so wide it could probably be seen from space. “Howdy! I’m Ted Lasso, your new head coach, and this here’s Coach Beard,” he said, his Southern drawl warm and inviting. Coach Beard gave a small nod but didn’t say a word, his expression unreadable. “Pleasure to meet you. You must be the assistant coach, Emma, right? Our boy Nathan here was just singing your praises.”

Emma glanced at Nathan, who turned a shade of red usually reserved for tomatoes and looked at the floor. She shook Ted’s hand, her grip firm but her smile cautious. “That would be me. Welcome to England, and welcome to AFC Richmond.”

So this was the man Rebecca had hired—the so-called “fresh face” who supposedly knew nothing about football. Up close, he seemed… different. Not just because of the mustache or the accent, but because of the genuine warmth in his eyes. It was disarming, to say the least.

“So, we’re supposed to meet with Rebecca Welton” Ted said, his tone casual but his eyes curious. “Are you two related?”

Emma nodded, her smile tightening slightly. “Oh, she’s my sister. I’ll introduce you.”

Ted’s eyes lit up, and he turned to Coach Beard with a mock-serious expression. “Beard, did you hear that? Sisters. That’s like having a built-in best friend at work. Sounds like a heck of a deal to me.”

Emma raised an eyebrow, amused despite herself. “We have our moments”

Ted chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Well, I’ll tell you what—if y’all ever need a mediator, I’m your guy. I’ve got a trophy for ‘Best Conflict Resolution’ back home. It’s shaped like a handshake. Very inspiring.”

Coach Beard, who had been silent until now, finally spoke up, his voice dry and deadpan. “It’s a participation trophy. From a team-building seminar.”

Ted waved a hand dismissively while Emma laughed a little. “Details, Beard. Details.”

Emma shook her head, amused despite her initial reservations. “Well, I’ll make sure to keep that in mind. Now, if you’ll follow me, I’ll take you to Rebecca. She’s probably wondering where you are.”

As she turned to lead the way, Ted fell into step beside her, still grinning. “Lead the way, Coach Welton.”

As Emma walked down the corridor to Rebecca’s office, she couldn’t help but notice the way Ted’s presence seemed to fill the space around him. Coach Beard followed silently, his sharp eyes taking in every detail. Emma wasn’t sure what to make of these two yet, but one thing was certain: life at AFC Richmond was about to get a lot more interesting.

She knocked on the door of Rebecca’s office, receiving a “Come in” from Rebecca. She opened the door, saying, “Guess who I found in the corridors,” and found Rebecca and Higgins inside the office.

“How y’all doin’? I’m Ted Lasso. Your new coach. You must be Miss Welton,” Ted said as he and Beard entered.

Rebecca stood up and greeted Ted with a polite smile. “Oh, please, call me Rebecca. Miss Welton’s my father.”

“If that’s a joke, I love it. If not, I can’t wait to unpack that with you. This here’s Coach Beard,” Ted said, and Emma couldn’t hold back her smile.

“How delightful to finally meet you both. So exciting,” Rebecca said, then turned to Higgins. “Oh, this is Higgins, our current director of communications.”

“Current?” Higgins muttered under his breath, looking at Emma, who shrugged her shoulders.

“Could you please take Coach Beard and have one of the girls get him their IDs, keys, housing information. Whatever they need…” Rebecca said to Higgins, who nodded.

As Coach Beard headed out with Higgins, Ted leaned in and whispered, “Wifi password, wet wipes—”

“—Humidifier. Way ahead of you, Coach,” Beard replied, leaving with Higgins.

“I’ll leave you two. If you need any help while adjusting, I’ll be in my office on the first floor” Emma said.

“Oh, you’re not in the coaches’ lounge with me and Beard?” Ted asked, his tone genuinely curious.

“Not really. Me and the last coach had a few… creative differences,” Emma replied with a wry smile.

“Well, you’re always welcome there now. We’re a team,” Ted said, his smile warm and inviting.

“I’ll think about it. Thank you, Ted,” Emma said, turning to leave. “Enjoy your tea time with Rebecca.”

[...]

While heading to her office, Emma found herself reflecting on the whirlwind of the morning. The arrival of Ted Lasso and Coach Beard had already stirred up the usual rhythm of Nelson Road, and she couldn’t help but feel a mix of curiosity and apprehension about what their presence would mean for the club—and for her. Her relationship with George wasn’t the best, he was misogynist and always discredited her in front of others, especially in front of Rupert and the players, which once almost caused a fight between him and Roy Kent. 

As she turned the corner, she nearly collided with Nathan, who was rushing down the hallway with a stack of towels in his arms. He looked flustered, as usual, but there was a hint of excitement in his eyes.

“Sorry, Ms. Welton!” Nathan said, adjusting the towels. “I was just, uh, getting these ready for the lads.”

Emma smiled, noticing the slight tremor in his voice. “No need to apologize, Nathan. And I already said to call me Emma. How are you holding up with the new arrivals?”

Nathan’s face lit up, though he tried to contain it. “Oh, they’re… different, aren’t they? Coach Lasso seems really nice. He even remembered my name.”

Emma raised an eyebrow, amused. “That’s a good start. And Coach Beard?”

Nathan shrugged. “Quiet. Doesn’t say much, but he seems to know his stuff. He was asking about the training schedule and the players’ stats. I think he’s already memorized half the team.”

Emma chuckled. “Well, it sounds like they’re settling in. Let me know if they need anything, alright?”

Nathan nodded eagerly. “Will do, Ms. Welton, I mean, Emma”

Emma smiled warmly and continued her walk to her office. Inside, everything was as she had left it—neat, organized, and exactly the way she liked it. She sat down at her desk, glancing at the framed photo of her and Rebecca from years ago, back when things were simpler and before Rupert had made a mess of her sister’s life.

Her thoughts drifted back to Ted. There was something about him that was both disarming and intriguing. His optimism was almost infectious, and she found herself wondering if it was genuine or just a well-practiced act. Either way, she couldn’t deny that his presence had already brought a new energy to the club—one that she wasn’t sure she entirely disliked.

Before diving into her emails and heading to the pitch to observe training, she grabbed a book from her shelf— “AFC Richmond: The History of a Modest Club with a Big Heart.” It was a detailed account of the club’s history, filled with photos, anecdotes, and milestones. She flipped through the pages, pausing at a chapter about the club’s golden era, and decided it might be a helpful resource for Ted and Beard as they settled in.

She scribbled a quick note on a sticky pad: “Thought this might help you get acquainted with the club. Welcome to the team. – Emma.” She stuck the note to the cover of the book and made her way to the coaches’ lounge.

When she arrived, the room was empty. Ted and Beard must have been settling in elsewhere. She placed the book on the desk, making sure the note was visible. As she turned to leave, she couldn’t help but smile, looking through the window that separated the coaches’ lounge from the players’ locker room. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to move her office to the coaches’ lounge and be closer to the team after all.

Just as she was about to dive into her emails back at her desk, her phone buzzed. It was a news notification: “Richmond Press Conference with Ted Lasso Live Now.”

Emma frowned, glancing at the time. She hadn’t been informed about a press conference. Curiosity got the better of her, and she quickly made her way to the media room. As she approached, she could hear the murmur of reporters and the occasional burst of laughter.

She peeked inside, staying slightly hidden by the doorframe. Ted was alone at the desk, his expression screaming “help me,” while Rebecca stood off to the side, her face unreadable. Higgins fidgeted nervously nearby, with Beard by his side, looking as stoic as ever.

Trent Crimm’s voice carried through the room as he said, “I just want to make sure I have this right: You’re an American, who’s never even set foot in England, with no football experience whatsoever, whose athletic success has only come at the amateur level—a second-tier one at that—and has now been charged with the leadership of a Premier League football club, despite clearly possessing very little knowledge of the game or its basic strategy.”

Emma looked at Ted, expecting a reaction, but instead, all he said was, “Did you have a question?”

“Yes... Is this a fucking joke?” Trent shot back, and the room erupted into laughter. After that, chaos ensued as reporters hammered Ted with questions. Ted nervously took a gulp of water and spat it out all over the phones in the front row, muttering something like, “The bubbles!”

Emma felt a pang of sympathy for Ted and glanced at Rebecca, silently pleading for her to step in. Rebecca nodded almost imperceptibly and calmly stepped forward, standing next to a still-seated Ted.

“Coach Lasso! You must forgive my countrymen,” Rebecca began, her voice sharp but controlled. “Somewhere over the last few years, we seem to have abandoned all sense of manners and hospitality.” She turned to the room full of reporters, her tone icy. “My my, aren’t you a salty bunch. What’s wrong, did we run out of pies?”

“Actually, yes,” one of the reporters in the front row quipped, earning a few chuckles.

Rebecca’s smile was razor-thin. “Well, you must forgive us. We didn’t expect to see so many of you today. In fact, I can’t remember the last time we were this full in the press room. Yet here you all are. And all because of Ted Lasso.” She paused, letting the words sink in. “And despite the number of you, there isn’t a single person in this room who has seen this team play as much as I have. Home, away, league, cup, sunny days on the Thames, cold rainy nights in Stoke. I was there. And in all those years, under the stewardship of the previous owner, I have witnessed nothing but profound mediocrity.”

Emma controlled her laugh, feeling a surge of pride for her sister. Rebecca continued, her voice steady and commanding.

“Oh, am I wrong?” she challenged, her gaze sweeping the room. “Ted Lasso may not have a CV that you all find acceptable, but he does have something this club doesn’t: a trophy from this millennium.” The murmurs of discontent grew louder, but Rebecca pressed on. “Now, you people are going to write the story however you like, but we are changing the way we do things. And from now on, that way is the ‘Ted Lasso Way.’ We will see you this weekend at Liverpool. Thank you.”

She gestured to the door, her tone final. “After you, Coach Lasso.”

Ted leaned into the mic, his trademark grin back in place. “Y’all have a good week. And sorry about spittin’ on all your stuff.”

As Emma stood there, half-hidden by the door, she felt a strange sense of hope. Maybe Ted’s arrival wasn’t such a bad thing after all. Maybe, just maybe, he could bring something positive to this club—something it desperately needed.

She slipped away from the door, heading toward the pitch, her mind racing. Life at AFC Richmond was definitely about to get more interesting—and possibly a lot more complicated.

Chapter Text

As Emma slipped away from the door, she couldn’t shake the image of Ted’s face during the press conference. His initial panic, his quick recovery, and the way Rebecca had stepped in to defend him. She wasn’t sure what to make of it all, but one thing was clear: Ted Lasso was unlike anyone she’d ever met.

She made her way to the pitch, where the players were already warming up for training. The familiar sounds of cleats on grass and the occasional shout from Roy Kent filled the air. Emma took a deep breath, letting the routine of it all ground her. This was her domain, the place where she felt most in control.

As she approached the sidelines, she noticed Nathan setting up cups on the table, preparing to pour some Gatorade. He looked up and gave her a hesitant smile.

“Everything alright, Emma?” he asked, his voice tinged with concern.

“Just peachy,” she replied. “How’s it going out here?”

Nathan shrugged, glancing toward the players. “Same as always. Roy’s barking orders, Jamie’s showing off, and the rest are just trying to keep up.”

Emma nodded, her eyes scanning the field. She spotted Ted and Beard arriving, deep in conversation. Ted was gesturing animatedly, his enthusiasm palpable even from a distance.

“What do you think of him?” Nathan asked, following her gaze.

Emma hesitated, choosing her words carefully. “He’s… different. But different isn’t always bad.”

Nathan nodded, returning to pouring Gatorade into the cups.

Ted finally noticed them and waved in their direction. Emma waved back and quickly resumed her notes for training. Meanwhile, Nathan offered Gatorade to the two new coaches.

Suddenly, they heard Roy shouting, “Jesus, Mary, and cocksucking Joseph! Isaac, you have to know who you’re marking, dammit!” He turned to another player. “And Colin, if he gives you that much space, make a run!”

Isaac and Colin turned to Emma, silently asking for her opinion. “He’s right, boys,” she said, stepping onto the field with her notebook. “Isaac, if you try marking everyone, you won’t mark anyone. And Colin, exploit your run.” She glanced at Roy, who gave her a nod of agreement. “And Roy, if you swear again during training, I’ll tell Phoebe.”

Roy grunted but didn’t say anything, while Emma smirked, amused.

Ted observed the interaction with a smile on his face, his eyes twinkling with curiosity. “Boy howdy, I sure do love a good ol’ fashioned bit of teamwork,” he said as Emma returned to the sidelines.

Emma raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “Is that what you call it? Because I call it barely contained chaos.”

Ted chuckled. “Ah, but chaos has its charm, doesn't it? Sometimes, it’s the messy bits that bring out the best in people.”

“If you say so,” she replied, turning to the players. “Isaac, Colin, let’s run that again.”

As the drill restarted, Emma felt a presence beside her. Beard, silent as ever, handed her a clipboard with some notes scribbled in his nearly unreadable handwriting. She squinted at it before glancing up at him.

“What exactly am I looking at here?” she asked.

Beard simply tapped the paper with his pen and walked away, leaving her to decipher his cryptic feedback.

Ted, still watching the players, leaned in slightly. “Beard’s notes are like poetry. Confusing, sometimes a little terrifying, but if you stare at ‘em long enough, you just might find some wisdom.”

Emma hummed, unconvinced, but kept trying to read them anyway. The more time she spent with this coaching staff, the more she realized that nothing about them was conventional and, for the first time in a long time, she wasn’t sure if that was a bad thing.

[...]

After training, Emma returned to her office, surprised to find Ted and Beard already there on her doorstep. Ted was flipping through the book she’d left for them, a look of genuine interest on his face. Beard was scribbling notes in a worn-out notebook, his glasses perched on the edge of his nose.

“Well, well,” Ted said, looking up as she entered. “If it isn’t the mysterious benefactor who left us this fine piece of literature.” He held up the book, the sticky note still attached. “Thank you kindly, Coach Welton. This is just what the doctor ordered.”

Emma crossed her arms and smiled. “I figured you might need a crash course in the club’s history. Can’t have our new coach embarrassing himself by not knowing who Freddie Mercury is.”

Ted chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Oh, I know Freddie Mercury. ‘We Are the Champions,’ right? Seems fitting for a football club.”

Emma raised an eyebrow, amused despite herself. “Close enough. But there’s more to it than that. You might want to read the chapter about the 1970s.”

Ted nodded, his expression turning serious for a moment. “I will. And I appreciate it. Really.”

Emma studied him for a moment, trying to figure out if he was being sincere or just charming. With Ted, it was hard to tell. But there was something about the way he looked at her, like she was someone worth listening to. That made her want to believe him.

“Don’t mention it,” she said finally. “Oh, the guys are coming back to the locker room any minute. Maybe you’d like to introduce yourselves?”

Ted’s face lit up. “Now that’s a fine idea. Beard, are you ready to meet the team?”

Beard gave a silent nod, tucking his notebook under his arm. Ted turned back to Emma, his grin widening. “Care to join us, Coach Welton? Moral support and all that.”

Emma hesitated for a moment, then shrugged. “Sure. Someone’s got to make sure Roy doesn’t kill you, or worse, make you regret stepping foot in the locker room.”

Ted laughed, the sound warm and infectious. “Fair point. Though, between you and me, I’ve survived worse. Once, I had a raccoon break into my garage back in Kansas and eat an entire bag of marshmallows. Took me three days to clean up the mess. If I could handle that, I figure I can handle a tough cookie like Roy Kent.”

“Don’t let him hear you calling him a tough cookie , and you might have a chance,” Emma said, laughing a little.

[...]

As they walked toward the locker room, Emma couldn’t help but notice how Ted’s presence seemed to fill the hallway. He chatted animatedly about the training session, his hands gesturing wildly as he recounted his favorite moments. Beard followed silently, his sharp eyes taking in every detail.

When they reached the locker room, it was still empty.

“Can’t help it, Coach. I do love a locker room,” Ted said, taking a deep inhale. “Smells like potential. And am I getting notes of Axe body spray?”

“Spot on, Coach. Though it may be called something else here,” Beard said, glancing at the lockers.

“Lynx,” Emma corrected. “Smells terrible, by the way.”

The sound of approaching voices made Ted and Beard step back. They watched as the players entered, tossing their sweaty gear into the hampers, except for Jamie and his buddies, who threw their clothes at Nathan, laughing as he brushed it off. 

The players’ laughter and chatter gradually faded into murmurs as they noticed Ted, Beard, and especially Emma, who shot a pointed look at Isaac and Colin for the way they treated Nathan.

Ted gave a friendly nod. “Hey there,” he greeted as the players walked past. Eventually, Roy lumbered in. Ted nodded again, but Roy simply stared back, expressionless.

“Yeesh. Last time I saw eyes that lifeless, they were goin’ head to head with Roy Scheider,” Ted muttered to Beard and Emma, who both looked confused.

“Jaws?” Beard guessed.

“No. But that works, too,” Ted replied.

“What are you guys talking about?” Emma asked confused

“All That Jazz.” Ted clapped his hands. “Okay, I’m gonna say somethin’.”

Emma stepped aside, letting Ted take the lead. She leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed.

“Hey there, fellas. Please, don’t stop what you’re doin’. I know y’all wanna get outta here. My name’s Ted Lasso, this here’s Coach Beard. We just wanna say howdy, let y’all know how excited we are to be here, and that tomorrow we’re gonna hit the ground run—”

He was interrupted by a voice from the entrance.

“Knock, knock.”

They turned to see Keeley standing in the doorway, her hands over her eyes. “Is everyone decent?” Then, she peeked and let her hands drop. “Well, that’s disappointing.”

A few chuckles rippled through the locker room. Keeley noticed the coaches and immediately straightened. “Oh, sorry! Am I interrupting?”

“No, no, that’s okay. Can I help ya?” Ted asked, while Emma watched the scene with amusement.

“I’m here to pick up that one,” Keeley said, pointing at Jamie.

“Sorry, Coach, but she made me an appointment. I’m getting waxed. It’s more for the fans than for me. You know, when I score, the shirt’s gotta come off.”

Noticing Emma’s unimpressed expression, Jamie quickly added, “But I could stay.”

“No, no, that’s okay,” Ted assured him. Jamie nodded and left with Keeley.

“Anywho... I’m lookin’ forward to gettin’ to know each of ya better, and we should be in for a heckuva ride. Thanks for your time.”

As Roy and the others headed to the showers, Emma commented, “Tough crowd.”

Ted chuckled.

“Well, I’ll let you two settle into your new office, but you know where to find me if you need anything.”

“You really won’t be staying with us?” Ted asked.

Emma sighed, shaking her head. “My office is quiet. It’s organized.” It’s safe, she wanted to say.

During the previous administration, she had tried working in the same room as George, the former coach, thinking it would foster some kind of team unity. Instead, all she got were inappropriate jokes and zero respect. He used to say that “women knew nothing about football” and that she was only in her position because of her sister. Needless to say, she hated every moment in that office.

“Well, I hope you change your mind. Our office is your office anytime,” Ted said, and Beard nodded in agreement.

“I don’t think that’s how the saying goes, but thank you,” she replied with a small smile before leaving them to settle in.

[...]

As the sun began to set, Emma found herself lingering outside the stadium, her thoughts a jumble of conflicting emotions. The day had been a whirlwind, and she wasn’t sure what to make of it all. Ted Lasso was a wildcard, and wildcards had a way of disrupting even the best-laid plans.

But as she watched the players head home, their laughter echoing in the evening air, she couldn’t help but feel a flicker of hope. Maybe Ted’s arrival wasn’t the disaster she’d been expecting. Maybe it was exactly what this club (and she) needed.

Ted and Beard exited the building, rolling their luggage behind them, with Nathan trailing closely. Ted spotted Emma and waved, his grin as bright as the setting sun.

“Hey there, Emma! You stickin’ around to make sure we don’t get lost on our way out?” he called, his voice carrying across the empty parking lot.

Emma crossed her arms, a small smile tugging at her lips as she waited for Rebecca. “Someone’s got to keep an eye on you two. Wouldn’t want you accidentally convincing Big Ben to chime ‘Yankee Doodle’ instead of the hour.”

Ted chuckled, placing a hand over his heart in mock offense. “Now, Coach, I’ll have you know I’m a perfect gentleman. Beard, on the other hand…” He trailed off, glancing at his stoic assistant, who simply raised an eyebrow.

Emma shook her head, her smile widening. “Goodnight, Ted. Try not to get into too much trouble,” she said just as Rebecca approached, deep in conversation with Higgins.

“No promises!” Ted called back as he and Beard struggled to squeeze into Nathan’s tiny car. “But hey, if we do, you’ll be the first to know!”

“Ted! Already burning the midnight oil, I see,” Rebecca said, interrupting the conversation.

“Well, as the man once said: the harder you work, the luckier you get,” he replied with a smile.

“My apologies, Ted,” she said, then gestured toward Higgins. “We should’ve ordered him a car.”

“No, that’s okay. Nate’s gonna drop us off at the Tube, get a little more local flavor. Night, y’all.”

Higgins made an awkward noise, attempting to stifle what sounded like acid reflux.

“Are you okay?” Emma asked at the same time Rebecca demanded, “What is wrong with you?”

“It’s just... everything I’ve eaten this afternoon feels like it’s stuck right here…” He started to explain but, catching Emma’s curious gaze, quickly decided against it. She didn’t know about Rebecca’s plan, and if he let anything slip, Rebecca would probably kill him.

Suddenly, a car horn blared. Ted mimicked honking an imaginary horn just as Nathan actually honked, clearly delighted to be included in the joke.

“This thing’s got an invisible steering wheel. Just kiddin’. It’s just my man Nate here hittin’ the horn!” Ted said. Emma was the only one who laughed, amused.

“You are a godsend, Ted Lasso” Rebecca declared.

Emma smirked. “He’s something else.”

Rebecca glanced at her, intrigued.

“I’m still trying to figure him out,” Emma admitted. “But in the end, I think you made an excellent choice, Sis.”

Rebecca’s eyes widened in surprise.

“I’m proud of you,” Emma continued. “Taking over the club. And I have no doubt you’ll do a better job than Rupert.”

Rebecca smiled, and for a fleeting moment, guilt tugged at her.

“Thank you, Emma. That means a lot coming from you.”

“You’re welcome. Just saying the truth,” Emma replied with a warm smile.

As Nathan’s car pulled away, Emma stood there for a moment, reflecting on the day. The faint sound of Ted’s laughter still lingered in the air and she found herself smiling. For the first time in a long time, she felt something stir inside her, something she hadn’t felt in years.

Curiosity.

And maybe, just maybe, a little bit of excitement.