“We are on the twelfth floor. Why don’t you just press thirteen?” Gabriella suggested smugly.
“Yes, I did,” Sasha cried. But the elevator didn’t stop. “There’s something wrong.”
Of course, now it was the elevator. Gabriella snorted. No wonder Sasha was after Luella. She had to be as feeble-minded as Rafael. Her sister seemed to attract those people. Perhaps Gabriella should be glad that Sasha didn’t want her. How annoying it would be to have a girlfriend like her?
“I’m coming over,” she declared with a Terminator voice.
“No,” Sasha begged. “I found the right button. I’ll get out in a second.”
A clank, followed by a long beep was audible from across the heap of luggage. Then the elevator came to a screeching stop. Gabriella waited but the doors didn’t open.
“What did you do?” she asked once again. This time Sasha didn’t answer.
With a sigh Gabriella pulled down the topmost bags from the trolley, then pulled herself up and peered over to the other side. Sasha was cowering on the floor, covering her face with her hands. Was she crying? Gabriella shook her head. How could she have once found Sasha attractive or interesting? This girl was anything but impressive. Turning her head, Gabriella took a look at the floor button board. Most of the buttons had been activated and one button blinking. Sasha had broken the glass and pressed the emergency stop button behind it.
“That button is in case the ropes snap,” she explained impatiently. “Now we are stuck.”
“I’m sorry, Luella,” was Sasha sobbing. She really was crying.
Gabriella sighed and crawled over to the other side.
“Come on,” she said conciliatorily and reached out her hand. After a long moment, Sasha took her hand and Gabriella pulled her up. When was the last time they had touched? A hand-shake at the net, no doubt. The Wimbledon final? Yes, Gabriella thought but then had to correct herself. No, the last time had been in Cincinnati and she had kissed Sasha in front of a vending machine. Only half a year ago, in a hallway, late at night. How could she have forgotten about it? For weeks and weeks, she had craved the taste of coconut and peanut butter in her mouth.
Sasha was standing inches away from her, stiff and silent. It would be so easy. So easy. Yes or no? Heads or tails? Flipping an imaginary coin Gabriella looked into Sasha’s eyes – and didn’t wait for the metal to fall. This was meant to be. An easy reward for a hard day. She closed her eyes and softly kissed the Czech on the lips.
***
“Hot,” Elise declared.
“You are tickling me,” Amanda mumbled, but the German wasn’t listening. Elise let the sensation spread over her tongue, then she lowered her head again.
“Very hot,” Elise exclaimed.
“Stop it!” The Australian wriggled under Elise. “What are you doing anyway?”
“Hold still!” Elise ordered. “You will spill all the spices.”
After a hard hit in the Dubai sun, Amanda and Elise had taken the afternoon off and paid a visit to the Old Souk. In the long narrow alleys, they had raided the small stores, haggled with the shop owners and in the end brought home an impressive array of herbs and spices. Now Amanda occupied the bed, lying on her belly and reading her e-mails on her laptop, while Elise had the glorious idea of pushing up Amanda’s shirt and spreading the various spices over Amanda’s lower back. Leaning over the Australian, she dipped her tongue into the powders to test their hotness.
“Too hot,” Elise yelled, jumping up like a scalded cat. She rushed to the bathroom and stuck her tongue under the tap. “Don moo,” she uttered with her tongue hanging out.
“Have you had enough now? Can I turn around?” Amanda shouted gleefully from the room.
“No,” Elise yelled back. “You ha go wai. I sill need do gasde he frui powers.”
After ten minutes, when her tongue had stopped feeling like it had been roasted, Elise emerged from the bathroom and sank onto the bed again where Amanda was still waiting with colorful lines of mango, banana and coconut powders running over her spine.
Amanda turned her head to Elise and chuckled.
“Sweating?” she grinned. “By the way, Natsumi’s rehab is going well,” she reported, pointing to the e-mail she was reading.
“Great,” Elise smiled. “When will she be back on the tour?”
“Clay season,” Amanda answered without enthusiasm. “Not earlier.”
They both knew what that meant. They had to transport the wooden mara from the Emirates to the United States, from the American west coast to the east coast and from there to Stuttgart. The clay tournament in the German city was their first stop of the European tournament season.
Elise sighed. “Why can’t we send her the stupid thing?”
Amanda shrugged. “She prohibited it explicitly. We have to carry it around with us.”
“I wonder if it’s very valuable,” Elise mumbled while she tasted the banana powder. “I searched on the internet last night. It’s possibly from the Edo period which spans over 250 years. So it could be really, really old or not so old.”
Amanda had to smile at her girlfriend’s amateurish approach to historical research. But she continued to listen on while Elise sucked up the remaining spices from her back.
“Have you seen the little hole in the bottom? It's probably for a screw,” Elise explained. She turned away from Amanda’s back and pulled out the wooden box from one of her bags and opened it. Little hole? Screw? Amanda finally turned around.
“What's going on with you tonight? Is it all the hot spices you ate? Are you randy?”
“Who's Randy?” Elise asked, absentmindedly. An idea had taken hold of her and she reached out and grabbed the bags with the spicy treasures.
“It means - ,” Amanda started explaining to her German girlfriend the depth of the English language, but then stopped. “Nevermind.”
Elise had turned back to the Japanese box and begun arranging the little plastic bags of spices around the phallus. After stuffing the last bag into the box she proudly presented the spicy hiding place to Amanda.
“Now, isn't that smart?” she exclaimed. “The box now looks as if it was made for the spices.”
***
Her mind was wandering back and forth. She wasn’t concentrating at all. And yet all of her balls seemed to find the lines in miraculous fashion. Even the few visitors who were strolling between the practice courts in the morning sun seemed to stay and watch longer than usual. The effortlessness and ease of her stroke-making surprised Sasha herself.
“As long as you can reproduce this in tomorrow’s match everything is fine,” Sasha’s coach said, giving her a pat on the back. Sasha just nodded. Tennis was not on her mind today.
Back in her hotel room, she opted for a short afternoon nap before she had to get ready for the players’ party. She snuggled into bed, and for a short moment Sasha was disappointed not to smell the scent of last night’s sensations on the pillows. While she had been at the tournament site, the maids had changed the linen. But then again, she didn’t need a reminder.
As soon as she relaxed under the blanket all the memories came flooding back. The kiss in the elevator that seemed to never end until finally the hotel technicians were able to unlock the breaks and the elevator doors opened on the next floor. The silent walk through the hotel corridor. Her own alertness of the woman walking next to her and the amazement that she was still there. Lulu helping her to unload the luggage trolley. Lulu’s body under the sheets. The warmth of her skin on hers. Lulu’s confident moves.
The scenes were floating through Sasha’s body, layer upon layer, slowly weaving a cover of comfort. So Sasha had been right about the Galloway twin. Lulu wanted her just like Sasha wanted Luella. The moment in the locker room at Roland Garros, the kiss in Cincinnati and the painful encounter in Istanbul revealed Lulu’s feelings and her struggle to come to terms with them. To this, Sasha could relate. When she was younger she herself had tried to resist her emotions. What
happened last night was promising, to say the least, even though Lulu didn’t seem completely comfortable with the situation yet.
“Don’t approach me and don’t call me,” Lulu had said standing in the doorway, looking back at Sasha in bed. “I’ll call you.”
Sasha had smiled at her. She was fine with a tentative start. Also – she sighed, thinking about it – she needed to be extra cautious now that everybody believed she was a soon-to-be wife.
The phone rang and Sasha sat up immediately. Perhaps Lulu was already missing her. Perhaps she wanted to see her again before they had to kill time at the players’ party pretending they didn’t like each other.
“Hello?” she said. But the joy of anticipation vanished immediately as the receptionist told her that the local fashion designer was waiting with dresses for the players to wear at the party.
Walking into the lobby, she spotted Luella right away. For a second the Galloway twin was looking at her, but she didn’t smile or wink at her. No sign that there was anything between them but a fierce rivalry. Sasha sat down on a lounge chair and observed Lulu from the corner of her eye. The Galloway was joking around with Marieke and Ivana then walked over to someone standing at the reception desk making arrangements. Rafael. Sasha frowned. She had completely forgotten about the fitness trainer who traveled with Luella and was well-known to be her boyfriend. Was he really? Or was he just a friend who covered for Luella like Jaro did for Sasha?
Sasha was inclined to go with the latter explanation. Also, why worry after only one night? She really was getting ahead of herself. Who cared what Lulu did with Rafael as long as she kept on spending nights with Sasha? And why should Sasha rack her brains about the Galloway at all? Breaking Sasha’s nose was pretty excessive to say the least, whether Lulu was confused or not.
Technically, it was only fair that she receive some compensation for her mutilated nose.
HEARTS BEATING
JUST AS ONE
Indian Wells, United States
After looking over the names, Amanda slowly pointed her finger at one name. She was sitting with Ted and Tom on a terrace, happy to have found a quiet place outside the busy players lounge of the Indian Wells tournament.
Ted and Tom looked at each other.
“Anastasia?”
“It was a while ago. Three or four years,” Amanda said.
Ted cleared his throat. “Okay, let’s get this straight. You have a history with Anastasia Stea?”
The Australian hesitated. “Well, I wouldn’t call it a history,” she finally said. “We met occasionally.”
Ted and Tom nodded. They had heard this before. Everything began to make sense.
“Anyone else on the list you have a history with?”
Amanda shook her head.
“What about Carina?” Tom asked.
“Carina?” Amanda laughed. “Are you crazy? Wild horses couldn’t drag me there.”
Tom chuckled. “I didn’t mean to suggest you had an affair with her. I wanted to know if you had a bad experience with her.”
“No,” Amanda said. “But I admit she’s an obnoxious pain in the ass – on the court and off the court.”
She got up and grabbed her jacket. “I’ve got to go. Elise will be back from her helicopter flight and we want to watch a movie tonight.”
She went to the door but then turned around. “You won’t tell Elise about Anastasia, will you? I don’t want her to get the impression I was sleeping around.”
Ted and Tom shook their heads and put their index fingers on their mouths. The secret of Amanda’s adventurous past would be safe with them. After the Australian had left, they sat down on their bed and looked over the list.
“It must be her,” Ted said. “She’s had affairs with everyone who received a picture. Martina, Antonia, Sasha and even Amanda.”
Tom wasn’t convinced by Ted’s theory. “But Amanda wasn’t the recipient. It was Elise.”
“She knew if she gave it to Elise it would land in Amanda’s hands eventually.”
Tom tilted his head. “I still don’t understand her motive.”
“Jealousy?” Ted suggested. “Perhaps Anastasia is jealous of other people being happy. She used the pictures to cause mischief and to worry her former lovers.”
“Could be,” Tom said.
He had spoken to the outgoing and friendly chair umpire at different occasions and had always enjoyed the chats with Anastasia. The Romanian gave the impression of someone who savored the life on the tour and was easy-going with the girls. A clandestine campaign to trouble her ex-lovers seemed completely out of character.
But who knew what went on inside a person who only ever said “30 –15” or “Love – 40” or “Advantage Curry” for hours and hours? Perhaps she was actually a very dangerous psychopath.
“Let’s keep an eye on her,” Tom said.
***
Sasha was nervously tapping her foot against the floor. Outside the window a high palm tree was swaying in the wind, gently disrupting the view of the Indian Wells mountain ridge.
“Sasha?” Kurt sounded irritated.
Sasha turned to her manager. “But it’s not necessary anymore. I’m winning matches again. I’m playing more consistently again. Besides, it’s not like I was doing horribly bad all the time. I made it to the semifinal in Melbourne.”
Kurt spread his hands defensively.
“Sasha, I beg your pardon,” he chuckled ironically. “You were crying and moaning after that semifinal that you couldn’t play tennis anymore, that people thought badly of you and Jaro. You said you felt like a dwarf.”
He shook his head in incomprehension, and Sasha grimaced with pain. She should have never let Kurt in on those bewildering feelings she had had after that match. Of course, this had only given Kurt an excuse to proceed further with the wedding plans.
“I don’t feel like that any longer,” she snapped. “I’m feeling great.”
“Well, I can see that,” Kurt replied. “You’re being your old self again. I certainly appreciate that fact. But we still have those rumors about you and Jaro.”
“They will die on their own when I play better again,” she retorted.
Kurt shook his head. “Jaro hasn’t been that careful either. There are massive rumors that your relationship is only a farce. We have to do something about it, and you know it.”
Yes, Sasha knew it.
“Sponsors are already asking what’s going on,” Kurt informed her. “There are two contracts that need to be renewed in the summer.”
Sasha closed her eyes.
“How do you make your money?” Kurt asked quietly.
Sasha smiled a little bit. They had been playing this quiz game since she was sixteen.
“I win a lot of matches?” she replied, already knowing his answer.
“Nope, guess again!”
“I get good sponsors.”
“That’s correct,” he winked at her. “And how do you get good sponsors?”
“By winning a lot of matches?”
“Nope, guess again.”
“With my tits and my ass?”
“That’s correct,” he rejoiced. “And how do you make a lot of money with your tits and your ass?”
Sasha grinned.
“By being smart,” Kurt answered for her.
“And trusting you,” Sasha finished the sentence.
“That’s correct.”
***
“Enrique Martinez?”
Polly pulled a face and handed the headphones back to Elise.
“I know, I know. Amanda hates him,” Elise chuckled. “I’m not allowed to listen to the new album when she is around.”
“Understandably so.”
They were walking through the hotel lobby after the Supersport Channel crew had dropped them off at the front entrance. The flight over the mountains and through the valleys had been fun and they had shot a nice sequence along with Chili and Robyn.
“I liked the song you
let me listen to on the way back.”
“The Jetlips,” Polly explained. “Famous Canadian chick band. I’ve got their whole catalogue.” She patted her MP3 player which she carried in the front pocket of her sweater.
“Perhaps you could give me some of their songs?” Elise asked when they stepped into the elevator.
“Sure, we can copy it onto your PC now if you like. So you have something to play aloud when Amanda is around.”
They got out on Elise’s floor and walked to the room she shared with Amanda. When they entered, Amanda was slouched on the bed and was watching videos on her laptop.
“How was the helicopter flight? Did you girls have fun?”
Elise and Polly nodded.
“It was pretty amazing actually,” Polly said. “I’m glad they chose us for the task.”
“It wasn’t really a task. Not like the trampoline thing,” Elise said while getting her laptop out of her bag. “More a nice fun activity.”
“No match between Gabriella and Lulu then?” Amanda asked with a grin.
“They weren’t with us this time,” Polly explained.
“Thank god,” Elise exclaimed, switching on her laptop. “Enduring them together is terribly exhausting now that they are not talking anymore. Gabriella is all grumpy around Lulu.”
“They are very different,” Amanda said pensively.
“Well, one is a lesbian and the other a slut, basically,” Polly chuckled while handing Elise her MP3 player.
“You know that Gabriella is gay?” Elise looked up.
Polly shrugged and handed Elise her MP3 player. “I figured she was since she was hanging with you guys a lot.”
“Not really that often anymore,” Amanda threw in.
“We should ask her to come over and watch the movie with us tonight,” Elise said to Amanda.
The Australian nodded, then looked at Polly. “You want to come, too?”
“Yes, I’d love to,” Polly said. She stepped towards the window and looked outside at the hotel garden, which was drenched in the warm light of the setting afternoon sun. Then she turned back and sat down at the table to wait for Elise to copy the new songs into her music library, when something caught her eye.
Love Game - Season 2012 Page 11
