Chapter Text
You had never experienced jet lag like this before, and you were cursing yourself for not doing more research on how to handle it. You've traveled, sure, but the time zone differences had been an hour or two at the most. You had thought a five-hour difference would be nothing, but here you were, staring up at the ceiling of your new apartment— flat— with burning eyes. You had slept maybe three hours, your body and brain stuck on your previous time zone. Six in the morning came too fast.
Regardless of your desire to throw the covers over your face and go back to sleep, you couldn't. Today was your first day at your new job, and being late would not be a good look. You still weren't entirely sure how you had landed this job, but you weren't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.
Communications manager for AFC Richmond.
They had been working on their rebranding and fixing their team for a bit now, and while you didn't care too much for soccer— football— you had to admit, their underdog charm had gotten to you. So when you saw the job opening you had applied for, not expecting a response.
The response you got had you packing up your life and moving from Richmond, Virginia, to Richmond, England. The irony was not lost on you.
The snooze alarm on your phone rang shrilly, and with a groan, you pushed yourself up, letting out an overdramatic, childish whine at how tired you were. Still, a paycheck was waiting for you. So you stood up, not bothering to make your bed, and stumbled to the bathroom.
Getting ready was a blur, but you had managed all the necessities. Teeth brushed, face washed, hair styled, makeup done. You had felt a bit more awake at the end of it, but the desire to crawl back into bed was tempting. You almost walked out in pajamas, but thankfully, you had remembered before you stepped out. Luckily, you had laid out your outfit the night before, so you were out within two minutes.
You had to admit, the area you were in was rather beautiful. The architecture was lovely, and the cool air was charming in a way. You had scrolled through local areas late last night and followed your map to a local coffee shop. It was cozy inside, and the scent of coffee and tea was a welcoming one. There were a handful of other patrons around, and you stepped forward, ordering a drink you had read about the night before.
You had the time, thankfully, and they didn't take too long. Before you knew it, you were walking again, not bothering to flag down a taxi. It was nice out, and you wanted to get to know the location. There were places back home that were walkable, but this felt different. Maybe it just felt so because it was another country; who knew?
By the time you had gotten to your destination, you were closing in on your scheduled time. Perfect, your timing had been correct. You paused by the entrance, fishing through your bag to find the badge that had been sent your way, trying to balance your coffee cup to make sure it didn't fall or slip.
"Well, would you look at that! There's an unfamiliar face!" It took you a moment to realize that the words were directed at you, and your searching paused as you looked up.
Standing behind you was a tall man, clad in khakis and a dark blue polo. And the most 1970's porn stash you had ever seen in your life. He was smiling, eyes twinkling slightly as he stepped forward, "Good morning!"
"Oh," You blinked; his enthusiasm was genuine, and it was throwing you off, "Morning."
His expression, somehow, lit up even more. "Another American! Would you look at that! Mighty small world, huh?"
Oh. Oh! This was Ted Lasso, the new coach from America. Your sleep-ridden brain had buffered upon meeting him, and you somehow hadn't recognized him. His face was plastered all over Twitter as the season continued— people weren't too happy with the outsider coaching their precious team. He had been a reason you knew your work would be cut out for you.
"Yeah," You chuckled awkwardly, "Another American."
He was just grinning, hands resting casually in his pockets. Did he… expect anything else from you? You cleared your throat, offering him your name.
"That's a lovely name. I'm Ted Lasso."
"I know," You nodded, "You and Coach Beard have had… quite some publicity since arriving."
"Aw shucks, you heard about all that, huh?"
This man spoke like a cartoon character.
"Hard not to when you're living here, I guess," You surmised dryly, "I heard people cursing you out in a coffee shop this morning."
"Oh— over at Little Rock's, right? Man, they make a mean Americano. Which, fun fact, what we know as an Americano back home is not what they serve here! It's just straight-up black coffee. A little surprising, but hey, sure woke me up! Jack runs that place; he even roasts the beans there himself every morning. He's a wonderful guy."
You hadn't anticipated a story to come out of him, but he didn't seem the least perturbed by your silence. Or by the fact that this coffee shop he seemed to love didn't seem to love him. Maybe he was a masochist?
"Now, lemme guess," His eyes narrowed, though it seemed playful, "Where in America are you from. Hmm," He tapped his chin dramatically, "Somewhere from the South, right? Heard the hint of an accent there."
You didn't want to be mean, but you also didn't want to continue standing out here and be late meeting Rebecca. Even over the phone, she was terrifying.
"Richmond—"
"You're from here?"
"—Virginia," You finished, mildly startled at his outburst, "Richmond, Virginia." You checked your watch, cursing quietly, "Sorry to dash, Ted, but I have to meet with Rebecca."
His eyebrows furrowed at your words before realization dawned on his face. "Oh! You're our new PR manager!"
"Communications manager," You corrected, "But yes."
"Well, it is so nice to meet you, communications manager!" He reached his hand out, and you took it, shaking it. His hand was rather large, slightly calloused palms rough against your own.
"You as well, Coach Lasso."
He waved his hand, "Call me Ted; you're not one of my boys, no need to be formal!" He motioned to the front door, "Here, lemme walk you up to the boss lady!"
"Oh, it's alright—"
"Nah, I got some cookies— biscuits for her I gotta drop off. I'll drop you and the biscuits off for her— a double win!"
He didn't appear like he was going to take no for an answer, and realistically, if you were going the same direction, you had no reason to tell him no. So you offered him a nod and a tight-lipped smile, letting him lead the way as you continued to dig through your bag, fingers finally brushing against the hard plastic of your badge.
"So how's it been over here for you so far?" His continued conversation caught you off guard; you had expected him to just quietly lead you to Rebecca's office.
"Uh, alright, I guess," You shrugged, looping the lanyard around your neck, "I landed yesterday afternoon, so I haven't done much sightseeing."
"Yesterday afternoon?" The question came out more like a yelp, and he stopped so abruptly you crashed into his back, sputtering apologies he ignored, "Why are you cutting it so close? I can't imagine you're feeling anything other than exhausted!"
Well, he wasn't wrong. Your brows furrowed together, and you offered him a shrug, "Honestly, it was cheaper for me to fly out yesterday. The apartment came with most necessities, and I had enough time to run out and buy some necessities."
He blew out a short breath, the sound like a raspberry, and he shook his head, "That ain't right; you need proper rest! I swear, when Beard and I got here, we were deliriously tired for weeks. Well, I was; he seemed to bounce back rather easily." Thankfully, he was walking again, you trailing behind him, "But don't feel the need to throw your sleep schedule aside for us; a young lady like you needs her beauty rest!"
Maybe it was because you were so tired, but the last bit of his commentary seemed unnecessary. What— did you look exhausted? You had learned in high school the best way to cover your eye bags, a skill you carried with you proudly. Was he implying you still looked worn out? He seemed to sense your mood souring, and his pace slowed as the two of you stopped outside of a shut door. Before knocking, he turned on his heel slowly, a sheepish look on his face as he met your unimpressed expression.
"I said something wrong, didn't I?"
You raised an eyebrow, "What makes you say that?"
"You got this look on your face that says I did. Keeley says I need to work on my girl talk, but she also says I'm good at reading the emotions in a room."
You glanced around the hallway the pair of you were standing in, though you didn't respond with a dry comment regarding the fact that you weren't in a room, per se. So you just sighed, shaking your head, "It's fine, Ted."
"Nah, don't say that," He sounded like he was pleading with you, his eyes wide and almost sad, "I feel like I just stepped on a conversational rake and got smacked in the head, but the rake's invisible, so I'm not sure how to fix the situation."
"You don't need to fix—"
He snapped his fingers, pointing at you, "It was the beauty rest comment, wasn't it?" The excitement over him guessing what had you clam up lasted all of a second before he offered you an apologetic look.
"Not that I'm saying you look like you need beauty rest. Honestly! If you hadn't said anything, I'd assume you had slept for, what, twenty hours last night; you look so refreshed and energetic!" He was rambling again, though this time he seemed nervous as he did so, offering you a small smile, "I just wanted to let you know that if you're too tired today— not that you look tired or anything— no one would blame you, again, not implying I think you need more rest. Maybe I need more rest, actually."
"It's fine, Ted," You cut in quickly, trying to prevent another rambling fest, "I am tired, so, the comment probably just… rubbed me the wrong way easier than it would have if I wasn't tired."
He wiggled a finger, like one would do when scolding a child, "Ah, don't say it's fine! Though I meant well, the comment came off as rude, and though I did apologize, you don't have to tell me it's fine. When someone apologizes and you say it's fine, it's like you're saying, 'Oh, it's okay, you can do it again', and I don't wanna say something rude to you again."
"I accept your apology, then," You responded hurriedly, a surge of annoyance rising up in you, doubled by the fact that you were now annoyed with you being annoyed. He had been nothing but nice to you, maybe overly so, but he had been nice, and here you were annoyed with him. "Really, it's no big deal." He looked ready to speak again, "But thank you for your apology. Now, I really need to meet with Rebecca."
"Right, right, onto meeting the boss lady!" Instead of stepping out of the way, he turned to the door and knocked, quite literally saying "Knock, knock" out loud as he did so, before pushing the door open.
Even though you could only see his back, you could tell he was smiling as he stepped inside. You peeked around him, seeing who you assumed was Rebecca at her desk, looking up with a smile plastered on her face, though the look in her eyes was poorly hidden irritation. She stood, offering him a good morning— and wow, was she tall. Scratch her just being intimidating, this lady was commanding; she was terrifying.
What had you agreed to?
Ted stood, sidestepping to offer you more room to walk in, "Morning, Rebecca. I come with two gifts this morning!" He stepped forward, placing a small, pink box in her hands, "Biscuits, as per usual, and our new PR manager! Oh, sorry, communications manager." He threw up jazz hands, the grin on his face wide and excited.
Rebecca's attention turned to you, offering you a small, though a bit more genuine, smile. "Good morning, it's lovely to meet you," She stepped out from behind her desk, offering you her hand, which you took, hoping she didn't feel the clamminess of your palms.
"Likewise," You responded, offering her what you hoped came across as a polite smile, "I ran into Coach Lasso outside, I hope you don't mind me coming in with him."
She shook her head, glancing over to Ted quickly, "No issue whatsoever. Makes introductions a tad bit easier, actually. I want to introduce you to the team, but unfortunately I have a few emergency calls to make. If Ted wouldn't mind, he can take you down to meet the boys, and I'll meet you afterwards. Otherwise, I fear you may be waiting for quite some time."
"Oh," You started, a nervous chuckle escaping you, "It's fine, really, I couldn't ask—"
"Hey, that's a great idea!" Ted and you spoke at the same time, his excitement far louder than your nerves, "It's still early, so I'm pretty sure they're all just down there talking and scrolling on their phones anyhow. Hey, do you wanna watch them warm up too? Rebecca normally shouts down for me when she needs me, so she'll let us know when she's ready to talk to you."
"What? Oh, I wouldn't want to throw them off or anything."
"Nah," Ted shook his head, "If anything, they might practice harder knowing they have a pretty girl watching them play. What do you think, Rebecca?"
She raised an eyebrow at Ted's words, glancing from him to you, before sighing, "It would make today go by faster, I believe, so it may be the best idea. I'll meet with you after I finish in here, yeah?"
"I- yeah, sure," You responded, mouth suddenly feeling dry, "That's fine."
"Alrighty," Ted turned, offering you a playful grin, "We'll get out of your hair, Rebecca. Come along, got a whole bunch of people to introduce you to."