“I never said,” lips pressing together as she rolled her eyes at the easy way he glossed over everything, never wanting to go further in depth in a way that infuriated her every damned time. “Merlin, you’re impossible! You know that right?” Something about Clint made her want to push deeper; she knew he had a brain beneath the hair and smirk and one that she thought was cruelly underused. In fact, the first time she’d caught him reading in the library and that first conversation that wasn’t filled with sneers and put downs (her side) she’d told him that he belonged in her house rather than with the silver and green tie he’d worn. An opinion which hadn’t changed.
The pub was loud, crowded and with enough people to cover any silence that hung in the corners. It also meant she had to lean a little closer when the table next to them started jeering about the Arsenal striker tackling a West Ham player in the box and earning himself a penalty. “It will be. I was speaking to my editor about a prospect of a new book and I want to pull the deadline for the outlines forward.” Penny gave him a slow smile as she shrugged her shoulders. “You know me. I hate not having a thousand things to do.” Without a list, without a to do list that she could feel there was too much time for thinking.
“Well. Way I see it is you’ve got two options.” She’d been thinking about this, mulling the possibilities over in her mind on the walk over. “I’m guessing you want to continue being Pro? There’s two ways of doing it; the first would be to build up some positive publicity to counter-act any rumours coming from the Continent. Donate your time at one of the orphanages, owl Hogwarts and see if the flying professor would be down for a visit by an ex player, maybe for career day. Kiss babies, make big grins and be seen to be a good guy. Its a lot of groundwork and its a gamble - one you’d have to continue for a long time until there was a bit more respectability to your reputation and a team was willing to take a chance on you.” Leaning against the chair, fingers toying with her wrist and the bracelet which hung there over the ink bruises, the brunette continued. “The other option is you take the rumours and run with them. Be the bad boy of the sport, sleep around, push the boundaries on the pitch and pose for womens mags with your shirt off. Create a reputation as the newest ‘it’ thing and hope they give you a chance to prove their gamble worthwhile.”
He could do either. Penny had a deep seated belief in the abilities of her friends. “Of course, third option is you come work with me. The library at my work is huge; shelves and stacks of books, tomes and scrolls and this small desk and chair in the middle thats entirely your own. Its sortof heaven.”