Losing at Love

by Jennifer Iacopelli

  “She’ll understand,” Indy repeated, running a hand through her hair. “She’ll understand that I’m dropping her and she’ll hate me. I told her in Paris that I wouldn’t do that.”

  “I can do it, if you want. Explain the situation to her, try to soften the blow a little bit.”

  Indy glanced out the car window just as the scenery started to change from nondescript buildings into London’s outskirts, small groupings of houses and then more stately architecture. Her stomach rolled a little from being on the left side of the road, feeling like she was seconds from a head-on collision on the wrong side.

  “No. I’ll do it.”

  She could see flashes of the Thames as they edged into the city, then a sign that they were entering the Royal Borough of Kensington, the streets lined with expensive shops and elegant townhouses. There were some places in the US that tried to mimic the look that London had created over the centuries, but none of them quite measured up. Another sign declared that they’d left Kensington and had moved into the posh neighborhood of Chelsea. Then the car slowed and they turned onto a street called Egerton Crescent, white houses with black wrought iron faux balconies lined the street. A half hour before, Indy couldn’t wait to arrive, to see Penny and Alex, stretch out and maybe grab something to eat with her friends in London and now she didn’t even want to get out of the car, even when trapped with the two people she’d walked in on boning just the day before.

  The driver didn’t give her a choice. He opened the door and waited expectantly for her to get out, the others from the car ahead of them already on the sidewalk, up at Alex’s home. The door flew open wide and Penny was standing there with a huge smile on her face. She practically skipped down the steps toward them, no sign of her walking boot, but no sign of her limp either.

  ~

  “Hey girl,” Penny said, pulling Indy in for a hug. Her arms smaller than her brother’s but comforting in their own way. She hadn’t realized just how much she’d missed her friend.

  “I missed you,” Indy whispered and tightened her arms around her.

  Penny pulled back a little. “You okay?”

  Indy sniffed and nodded. “Yeah, can we talk in a little bit though?” she said under her breath. She needed to run all this by Penny. She was the only person who’d understand this feeling, stuck between what a normal person would do for a friend and what they had to do as professionals, that the sport had to come first, even over a promise.

  “Of course,” she said, barely getting the words out before Jack came barreling across the sidewalk and lifted Penny up into a bear hug.

  “Heard you were practicing,” he said, setting her down gently.

  “Save the lecture for later, bro,” Teddy said, pushing Jack out of the way and hugging his twin sister.

  Jasmine stepped up to the group and Indy met her eye. They were both only children, just one of the many things they realized they had in common after they got over hating each other.

  “Hey Jas,” Penny said, once Teddy let her go. Jasmine smiled. “Come on in everyone. Alex and Paolo have a practice session, but they’ll be back soon.”

  Dom and Caroline hovered in the background for a second and Penny tilted her head. “Are you guys coming in?”

  Dom shook his head. “No, we’re going to head over and check into the hotel.”

  “Yes, put our bags down, get settled,” Caroline finished for him.

  Indy scoffed, and Dom shifted back and forth on his feet. Could they be any more obvious?

  The cars pulled away and Penny led them up the stairs into the townhouse. The front hall had a vaulted ceiling, a small iron chandelier hanging down and a wood floor polished to a high sheen, their reflections only blurred a little in the chestnut stain, the walls covered in a white glossy wainscoting. Indy had a strange feeling wash over her seeing Penny in Alex’s house. It almost felt like she belonged there.

  Teddy didn’t even look around, he just turned to Penny. “Where can I put my shit?”

  Penny snorted. “Nice to see you too, Teddy,” she said. “Come on, your rooms are upstairs.”

  She led Jack and Teddy to the first room at the top of the long stairwell and they disappeared into it, letting their suitcases drop by the door and falling into the two full beds in the guest room. She then motioned for Indy and Jasmine to follow her further down the hallway. “This is you guys. I’m sorry you have to share.”

  “No problem, this is a lot better than a hotel,” Jasmine said, flopping back onto the first of two beds, covered in white fluffy comforters with large pillows at the head.

  Indy stepped over the wood floors and onto the ivory colored area rug at the center of the room then over to the bed on the opposite wall. Would Jasmine still feel that way after she told her what was going to happen in the next two weeks or rather what wasn’t going to happen? That their journey toward the main doubles draw at Wimbledon was over before it really began.

  “Don’t fall asleep,” Penny warned. “We have reservations in a couple of hours for dinner and if you go to sleep now you’ll screw your sleep pattern up for the entire time you’re here.”

  Jasmine groaned and yanked her suitcase upright, unzipping and digging through it, finding a change of clothes and her bath things right at the top. “Alright, I call first shower. Where’s the bathroom?”

  Penny pointed out the door. “Second door on the left.”

  Indy waited until she heard the bathroom door shut, the sound of the bathroom fan click on and then the water running before she turned to Penny who’d waited patiently, sitting down at a white dressing table chair.

  “I got a singles wildcard to Wimbledon,” she said quietly.

  “Oh my God, Indy. That’s amazing. I don’t know why it took them so long, but of course, you should be playing. The draw’s not out for a few days still, but…oh.”

  “Yeah, oh. Jasmine’s going to freak. Dom and Caroline were adamant about it. There’s no way I can do doubles quals and prepare for the singles tournament.”

  “You’re going to tell her tonight?”

  “I have to. If I wait any longer, it’ll be like lying.” A little voice in the back of her mind started to shout that she was keeping something from Penny as well, something huge, but it didn’t feel like the right moment. Penny always put tennis first, she’d understand. Besides, she and Jack agreed that they’d tell her together and right now he was probably in the shower, getting ready for their night out. Her mind drifted for a second, imagining rivulets of water sluicing over lean, tanned muscle, getting caught in dark curly chest hair but she blinked the fantasy away, focusing on Penny.

  “Makes sense,” Penny said. “I know I’d want to be told right away. Just…”

  “What?”

  “Just don’t let this bring you down completely, okay? I know you guys just got on good terms, but you got a wildcard to Wimbledon, Indy. That’s huge. You get the right draw, beat the right people, it could make your career. Forget about winning the junior tournament, you could be on tour almost full time. Some hurt feelings now are totally worth it.”

  “Are they?”

  Penny shrugged. “For me it would be, but I’m not you.”

  “No, you’re not. Ugh. This is gonna suck.”

  “What’s gonna suck?” Jasmine asked, walking through the door in white shorts and a bright pink long-sleeved see-through top over a cami, a towel wrapped around her head to keep her wet hair off the pretty shirt.

  Penny stood, looking back and forth between them before tilting her head toward Indy in a silent question. Should I stay? Indy shook her head just once and Penny’s eyes flashed back to Jasmine for a brief moment before she said, “I’m just…I’m gonna go get ready.”

  “What’s gonna suck?” Jasmine repeated.

  “Why Dom and Caroline made me ride with them over here. They had some news.”

  “Bad news? Is everything okay?”

  The concern in her voice made Indy’s stomach twist. A lump formed in
her throat she felt the muscles in her legs and arms start to tighten. It was just like she used to feel before a big match, before Jasmine had come along and talked her through those issues and now she had to tell her that she was dropping her. She took a deep breath and swallowed back the nerves. “Good news, mostly, but…” she trailed off. It was better to just put it out there, rip off the bandage.

  Chapter 11

  June 19th

  “Okay,” Jasmine said, shrugging her shoulder and laying her toiletry bag on the nightstand beside the bed she’d claimed.

  “Okay?” Indy repeated.

  “What else do you want me to say? You have to do what you have to do, Indy. You’re right, it sucks and I’m kind of annoyed that you talked to Penny about it before me, you know, your partner. But I can’t ask you to pass up a chance to play in the main draw for doubles qualifications. That would be pretty self-centered of me.” She tried to keep the bite out of her voice, but some of it seeped through and she knew Indy could tell by the way her mouth twisted into a small pout. “It’s annoying that I’m here so early. I could have stayed back at OBX and practiced with Amy to keep my singles game sharp. It’s two weeks until the junior tournament starts.”

  Indy nodded. “Right, you could have practiced with Amy. Jesus, Jasmine, if you’re pissed off, just admit it.”

  “I’m not.” She really wasn’t. She was hurt and that was stupid because Indy’s choice was the right one. Still, they’d been working toward Wimbledon together and now that was shot to hell. “I’m not pissed off.”

  “I’m sorry I told Penny first, but I had to be sure I was doing the right thing.”

  Jasmine scoffed. “Tennis comes first for Penny. Wrong person to go to if you’re debating tennis versus anything else in life.”

  “Yeah, I guess so,” Indy said and then moved to her suitcase, digging through the clothes and pulling out some crumpled fabric and a small toiletry bag. “I’m going to shower.”

  She left the room and Jasmine sank back onto her bed and blew out a breath. Penny and Indy had understated it. Sucks didn’t even come close to describing this clusterfuck. Doubles was her way in to the pro ranks, the thing that would keep her afloat until she could make a name for herself as a singles player. Maybe her parents and Felix Wolner and Dom and everyone else were right. Maybe she should just go play in college and stop deluding herself. Then, in a few years, maybe she could go pro and see where it led. What else was she supposed to do? Just be left behind in everyone’s dust as they went on to fame and fortune?

  Jasmine yanked the towel off her head, letting her hair fall down around her shoulders. She stood and strode across the room, staring at her reflection in the mirror hanging on the wall above the dresser. The long dark locks were still damp and she needed a blow dryer if she was going to be ready on time. Digging through her bag, she found one quickly, but came up empty looking for the outlet adapter, the only thing between a working blow dryer and blowing every fuse in Alex Russell’s house. “Crap.”

  Penny probably had one, she thought, as she left the room and headed down the hallway toward what she guessed was Alex’s bedroom. The door was shut now though and she could hear muffled voices, one much deeper than the other from behind the solid wood barrier. Not a chance in hell she was going to interrupt whatever was going on in there. She spun around and headed toward the guys’ room, but instead, collided with a warm body behind her and a hand shot out to steady her at the elbow.

  “Jasmine Randazzo,” the voice belonging to the body said, the soft accent rolling the double z at the end of her last name in the way only an Italian would.

  “Sorry,” she said, looking up into the crystal clear blue eyes of Paolo Macchia, crinkled at the sides as a smile widened over his face.

  “Figurati,” he said and when he noticed she had no idea what he was saying, he translated. “Don’t worry about it.” His warm hand squeezed her elbow and then he stepped back a little. “Do you remember, we met in Paris?”

  “Paolo, right?” she asked, playing it cool. Of course she remembered. Who could forget him, with his olive skin and dark curls and a body like that?

  He nodded and then glanced over her shoulder. “Were you looking for Penny?”

  “Yeah,” she said, but laughed a little. “I think she’s a little busy.”

  “They are almost always busy.”

  Jasmine groaned.

  “Exactly.”

  She laughed and shook her head. “You don’t have a blow dryer, do you?”

  “Blow-dryer?” His forehead crinkled.

  “Hair dryer? Secadora de pelo?” She tried in Spanish as well.

  “Asciugacapelli,” he translated and nodded, motioning for her to follow him down the hallway. His room was right next to Jack’s and Teddy’s and she leaned on the frame of his doorway while he unplugged his asciugacapelli from the wall. “All yours.”

  He held it out to her and she took it, letting her fingertips brush against his deliberately. He chuckled softly and held the contact for a moment, before she chickened out a little and took it from him.

  She turned to go back to her room just as Jack and Teddy emerged from theirs, both in dress pants and collared shirts. Teddy in gray and Jack in a violet color, both Harrison brothers looked like they stepped off the pages of a J Crew catalogue.

  As far as she knew, Paolo had never met either of them. “Paolo, this is Jack and Teddy Harrison. Penny’s brothers.”

  “She’s told me much about you both,” Paolo said, shaking both their hands firmly.

  “Paolo was just lending me his asciugacapelli,” she said the word slowly, but he hummed his approval at her pronunciation.

  “His what?” Teddy asked, his eyes flying back and forth between her and Paolo, his eyes finally staying on her for what felt like the first time in forever.

  “His hairdryer, little brother,” Jack said, clapping him on the shoulder and nodding at the object in her hands.

  “Oh, right.” He looked away again, even as Jasmine tried to meet his eye.

  “Are we having a hallway party?” Indy’s voice rang out from the other end of the hall.

  “Something like that,” Jack called back. “Come on boys, let’s let the ladies finish getting ready. On my way in, I thought I saw a nice bottle of bourbon that any man dating my sister would be wise to let me sample.”

  The guys all headed down together and Jasmine turned, hairdryer in hand, forcing a half smile in Indy’s direction.

  ~

  They dressed in silence, moving around the room, keeping a heavy distance between each other as they dried hair and applied makeup. Jasmine wasn’t going to break the silence. She’d been honest with Indy, she wasn’t angry, but this tension wasn’t her fault either. If Indy wanted things to be less awkward, she was going to have to make the first move.

  A half hour of silence and Penny showed up at their door. “Are you guys ready?” she asked, wearing a pale pink slip dressed with lace at the hem falling to her mid-thigh, gold heels making her nearly Indy’s height.

  “Ladies,” Alex said from over her shoulder. “You both look lovely.”

  Paolo, Jack and Teddy were all in the library sipping what Jasmine recognized as ridiculously expensive alcohol that her dad was particularly fond of.

  “We got a head start,” Paolo said before he gulped down the last of the amber liquid in his tumbler. The other guys followed suit. Jasmine hadn’t had a sip of alcohol since France and when Paolo refilled his glass, she stepped up and took it from him, downing it in one gulp, licking her lips.

  “Good,” she managed, her voice a little raspy, and he took the glass back, as Alex announced that the cars had arrived.

  The restaurant was a London hotspot and, as usual, when you were with Penny and Alex, the sidewalk was lined with photographers all wanting to get a good shot of the celebrity golden couple.

  Jasmine stepped out of the car, her heel catching immediately in a crevice between the cobblestones that lined
the old London street, but a warm hand at her back, the same hand that steadied her earlier in the hallway, caught her and kept her balanced.

  “Thank you,” she said and as they made their way as a group through the throng of photographers, Paolo stayed with her, his hand at the small of her back, spreading warmth over her skin like nothing had in a very long time.

  The maître de took one look at their party and led them to one of the best tables in the house. It was the kind of quality place that kept their best tables out of the center of the restaurant, allowing celebrity clientele a modicum of privacy rather than using the cache to attract other patrons. Their table was up a flight of stairs, overlooking the rest of the restaurant, big enough for them all to sit comfortably, but not too large to have a conversation across it. The walls were lined with dark wood paneling, the sconces lit dimly, creating an atmosphere just a little bit romantic, if you wanted it to be. As Paolo waved away their host and pulled out her chair for her, allowing her to sit before he sat down beside her, Jasmine realized that she definitely wanted it to be.

  Before she could blink, a glass of white wine was put in front of her and appetizers started to flow out of the kitchen at an alarming rate. Apparently, the chef was a friend of Alex’s and had decided to send them a little bit of everything on the menu and some things that weren’t.

  “Where are you from, exactly?” Jasmine asked. Paolo had to lean down a little to hear her or maybe he just wanted to be closer. She preferred the latter.

  “Milan,” Paolo said. “Randazzo, that’s an Italian name.” He left the question unasked.

  “My dad’s family is from a small village just north of Trieste originally. They came over to escape Mussolini.”

  “My family has been in Milan for hundreds of years, maybe thousands. I left when I was a boy to study at the tennis academy in France.”

  “That must have been difficult,” she said.

  He nodded, taking another sip of wine. “You were lucky that your parents had their school. Alex has said it is an excellent facility and while perhaps he was a little biased by the company he found there, he would not praise it if he didn’t think it worthy.”