Game. Set. Match.

by Jennifer Iacopelli

After Penny just stared at him in silence, he finally glanced at Indy. “That’s a beautiful dress, darling,” he said, smiling at her, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I think I’ve seen it before. It has a tricky little clasp at the back, if I recall.”

  Finally, Penny let go of Indy’s arm, though her nails had left half-moon shaped marks in her skin. “Alex, don’t do this, okay?”

  His eyes softened at her voice and he swayed in place, the glass in his hand clearly not his first. “You sure about that, love?” he said, taking a large sip from the glass, swallowing it cleanly.

  Penny narrowed her eyes, taking a step closer and inhaling softly. She wrinkled her nose. “Positive.”

  “Shame,” he said, with a casual shrug of his shoulders, but one look into his eyes and Indy knew that the rejection stung.

  Penny just shook her head and turned to Indy. “Let’s go.”

  “Why was he talking about my dress?” Indy muttered as they walked away. She glanced back over her shoulder, but Alex was gone. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that the only way he’d known about the hidden clasp at the top of the dress’s zipper was if he’d undone it himself, but Indy wasn’t going to push, not with the way the color had drained out of Penny’s face.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let you wear it. Just trust me. It wasn’t about you, okay? You look great.”

  “Okay,” Indy said, wanting to say more, but having no idea where to even start.

  “Indiana!” a voice carried over the crowd. She spotted Caroline across the room talking with an older man in a finely tailored suit. The agent, wearing a pale pink sheath dress, fixed at the waist with a large black patent-leather belt, waved her over with just a flick of her fingers.

  “I’m being summoned,” Indy said, rolling her eyes at Penny who smiled. “Whatever, it’s not like she’s actually my agent.” In fact, Indy thought she’d made it pretty clear to Caroline that she wasn’t interested after ignoring every call and text she’d sent over the last few days.

  Penny snorted. “Looks like she thinks she is.”

  Indy turned and saw Caroline stalking toward them, the man matching her stride. She groaned.

  “Indiana.” Caroline air-kissed her cheeks when they arrived, totally ignoring Penny, then gestured to the man. “I’d like you to meet Mr. Edward Franklin. He’s from Solaris Beachwear.”

  “I’ll leave you guys to it then,” Penny said, nodding to Mr. Franklin, but looking straight past Caroline and then grinned a farewell to Indy.

  “It’s very nice to meet you,” Indiana said.

  Mr. Franklin drew his eyes away from Penny’s retreating back and shook Indy’s hand. “I’m really looking forward to watching you play this week.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Caroline was just telling me about the feature Athlete Weekly did on you.”

  Indy felt her face flush a little. “Well, it was on few of us…”

  “Modest too. Here’s my card.” The man passed it over to her. “Good luck in the tournament, Indiana. Caroline, I look forward to hearing from you.”

  He excused himself and Indy turned to Caroline with an eyebrow raised. “Solaris Beachwear?”

  “It’s not Nike, but you haven’t actually won anything yet. Then again, neither has Penelope Harrison, a big tournament yes, but certainly not a major.”

  “And you think Nike is going to want me?”

  “I speak, as I find. You win something, Indiana, like this tournament and Solaris Beachwear won’t be the only one knocking on our door.”

  “We’ll see,” Indy said. “I still haven’t gone pro.”

  Caroline’s smile grew wide like she knew something Indy didn’t. There was something in that smile that didn’t sit quite right with her.

  Just as Caroline opened her mouth to speak again, Indy saw Teddy Harrison pushing through the crowd in her direction. Jacket and tie nowhere in sight, the sleeves of his burgundy dress shirt were already rolled up to his elbows.

  “Sorry, Caroline, gotta go,” she said and met him halfway. “Dance with me?”

  “Did you really want to dance or did you just want to get away from her?” Teddy asked, laughing, as they moved through the dancing couples, the band playing a slow jazz tune.

  “Sorry,” she said, shrugging. “I know I need an agent, but there’s something about her. She’s just…”

  “She’s a shark, at least that’s what Jack says and he’s usually right.”

  “Is he?” Indy said, but Teddy didn’t answer, as she wrapped her arm around his neck and looked out over his shoulder. In the corner of the room, Jasmine, Lara and Addison, along with a bunch of other OBX junior girls were twittering away and staring at them, not even pretending they weren’t.

  “We have an audience,” Indy whispered.

  Teddy shoulders tensed under her hands and he swallowed thickly. “Do you mind if I…” He trailed off, but nodded in that direction.

  Indy glanced over his shoulder again and the daggers flying out of Jasmine’s eyes could’ve shredded her to ribbons. “Go,” she said and Teddy smiled tightly before leaving her on the dance floor and walking over to Jasmine.

  Indy watched as he stuffed his hands in the pockets of his dress pants and rocked back on his feet. He nodded out to the dance floor, but Jasmine shook her head and marched away, the other girls trailing behind her.

  Indy made sure to stay clear of their path as she made her way to the bar. She had enough enemies at OBX, mostly because of things totally out of her control. She didn’t need to earn any more by going after Jasmine’s best friend.

  “Seltzer please,” she asked the bartender and then turned, leaning back against the bar with the glass in her hand.

  “Jack and coke,” a voice next to her ordered and she glanced sideways to see Jack Harrison. Earlier, she’d been so focused on the feel of his hands against her skin, there hadn’t been enough time to admire just how well he filled out his navy blue suit.

  “You haven’t seen my sister anywhere, have you?”

  “Oh, um, she’s….” She nodded to the other end of the bar where Penny’s eyes were glued to the television mounted high on the wall where a replay of a match in Rome was airing. Zina Lutrova was soundly beating the world’s number three player, Jin Jun Huang.

  “Great, torturing herself.”

  “I don’t know. If I were an agent, I’d be thrilled if my client wanted to win as much as she does.”

  “As an agent, I am thrilled. As a brother, sometimes I wish she could relax a little bit. I wasn’t like that when I played.”

  “No? What were you like?” she asked, relieved he was just as willing as she was to push past any lingering awkwardness from that moment in Penny’s room.

  Jack huffed out a short laugh. “Relaxed. Tennis was just something I did for fun.”

  “At Harvard right?” He tilted his head leaving his question unasked. “The day we met you were wearing a Harvard tennis shirt,” she explained, leaving out the part that she Googled him and found an old Harvard roster from three years before with his name on it.

  “Right, well yeah, three years at Harvard, before law school.”

  “Law school?” He was only twenty-three, another nugget she’d dug up during her internet stalking session and he’d already graduated from law school. “Impressive.”

  He laughed again, his eyes crinkling as he did. “What? Not, ‘why didn’t you go pro, Jack?’”

  Indy smiled and shrugged. “I assume you weren’t good enough.”

  Jaw dropping, but the smile not leaving his eyes, he nodded. “You’re right. I wasn’t.” Then slowly his laughter faded and with it so did the ease surrounding them. His shoulders straighten and his entire body stiffened as he looked away, out over her head. “I…I better go. Good luck tomorrow. I know you’re going to do well.”

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  He finished his drink and placed the glass back down on the bar. Then he leaned down and brush
ed a kiss against her cheek. “Good night.”

  ***

  Sitting in the locker room the next day, Indy twirled her racket in hand, a twist of her wrist had it spinning around fully before coming to rest in her palm again. This was it, her first match at the Classic. Indy’s leg bounced up and down, her toes curling and uncurling in her sneakers.

  “How’s that?” the trainer asked, tapping Indy’s wrapped wrist, drawing her from her thoughts. “Range of motion good?”

  She flexed her wrist back and forth, the wrap just there for some extra support. “Perfect.”

  “Have a good match,” the trainer said as she left the room.

  Once she was alone, her stomach clenched and her throat tightened. There were the nerves. It was actually comforting to feel them. It had been a year since she’d been out on a court for a real elite-level match. Plus, this was the first time she’d be out on the court without her mom in the stands. Anyone would be a little jittery. Indy checked her racket, bouncing the heel of her hand against the crisscrossed strings. The tension was perfect, not too tight and not too loose, allowing both power and control.

  Taking a slow, steady breath, she packed her racket into her bag and mentally ran through the match. Lara Cronin, the one who tried to bully her off a practice court and most likely the evil bitch who stole her dress for the reception, had a solid overall game. They’d played against each other a little bit during training. Good backhand, better forehead, could move well, but not well enough. The plan was to stick to the power game. Lara definitely wouldn’t be able to handle her serve. Indy was prepared. Now all she had to do was execute.

  “You ready to go, Indy?” a deep southern-drawl asked from just outside the doorway.

  Slinging her bag onto her shoulder, Indy nodded to Roy. “I’m ready.”

  They walked down the long corridor, past the Title Wall, and through another hallway that led to the OBX main court. The door was braced open. She could hear the buzz of the crowd and the hard rock music blasting through the speakers. Lara was already standing at the door, waiting. Indy was the higher seed and thus had the honor of entering the court last.

  The radio clipped to Roy’s belt crackled. “Two minutes.”

  “Hang on right here, ladies,” Roy said, pausing at the door.

  She bounced on the balls of her feet to stay warm and burn off the extra energy she felt flowing through her veins. She’d never felt anything quite like this before, a buzzing through her entire body, almost making her vibrate.

  To her right, held in a glass case, was the Classic trophy. It was an old-school brass cup, about the same height as a desk lamp with two large handles. The tournament was in its fifth year, but only had two winners. The names of the previous champions were engraved on the cup.

  Amy Fitzpatrick

  Penelope Harrison

  Penelope Harrison

  Penelope Harrison

  By the end of the week, her name could be cut into the brass just below Penny’s; by the end of the week, she could be the Outer Banks Classic champion.

  The radio crackled again. “Okay, we’re a go.”

  Lara entered the court first, the crowd applauding for her. Roy held his hand up, holding Indy back and her eyes grew wide. It was really loud out there, definitely the loudest she’d ever heard a crowd for one of her matches, not that she’d really had a crowd before—ever.

  “Good luck,” he said, his hand squeezing her shoulder before he waved her through.

  Empty, the OBX main court didn’t seem that big. Compared to the huge stadiums at the Grand Slams, it was actually very small, but standing on the court with every seat taken, music blaring in the background, and the din of people chattering in their seats, to Indy, it might as well have been Centre Court at Wimbledon. All of these people were here to watch her play, to watch her win or lose.

  Indy’s heart began pounding in her chest, mimicking the harsh bass echoing through the speakers. The music was meant to pump up everyone in the stands, but it was sending her pulse rate through the roof.

  Glancing into the crowd, she saw Caroline courtside next to the rep from Solaris Beachwear. A few rows back, Penny sat with Dom and Jack. Teddy was just behind them next to Jasmine. Her match had been earlier that morning. She’d won easily.

  Indy looked away. She had to take it one match at a time. There wouldn’t be a chance to face down Jasmine unless she won this one and two after it.

  Sitting down in her chair, she pulled the laces of her sneakers tight and took several deep breaths, trying to block out the noise, but it was almost impossible.

  “Players to the center of the court,” the chair umpire said, standing next to the net. A coin flip would decide who served first.

  “Heads,” Lara said.

  “The call is heads,” the umpire said, and flipped it onto the court. The coin bounced once, spun and then rattled flat onto the ground. “It is tails. Miss Gaffney?”

  “I’ll serve.”

  Lara’s face went pale and Indy’s nerves faded. Her opponent was afraid and there was nothing more crippling for an athlete than fear.

  As they warmed up, Indy made sure to unleash her serve at maximum velocity, paying little attention to where it went. She wanted to nurture the fear, not give Lara the chance to overcome it.

  Finally, the chair umpire said, “Play.”

  The tennis balls were brand new. They would fly hard and fast.

  Across the net Lara was lined up far behind the baseline, shifting her weight back and forth, waiting. Indy didn’t make her wait any longer.

  The serve was perfect, down the center of the court, skidding off the white painted line and past Lara, who flinched, but had no chance to return it. Indy smiled, feeling her entire body relax, the rush of adrenaline settling into a comfortable ease. The match was over before it had even begun.

  Chapter 8

  May 19th

  “Game. Set. Match. Gaffney.”

  Penny stood, applauding Indy’s win, her third in three days. It was a decisive victory and she could remember what that felt like; just a few years ago, she was down on that court, winning her first Classic semi-final. Long before there were sponsorships and British bad boys, there had just been tennis and her simple love for the sport. She still loved it, of course, but everything was just so complicated now.

  Indy and her opponent met at the net and shook hands to end the match and Penny turned to leave. She had a training session with Dom in fifteen minutes. Coming down the stairs out of the OBX stadium with the rest of the crowd, Penny felt him before she saw him. It was like that in Australia too. She felt his eyes on her long before he’d approached her. She tried to disappear into the throng of people, but he stood head and shoulders above nearly everyone. If he wanted to find her, he would. She’d managed to avoid being alone with him since he’d sauntered over to her at the reception a few days before. Dom was always at training as a buffer and it was easy enough to avoid him during her off time.

  “Penny,” Alex said, suddenly beside her. The people around them shifted, and she was forced closer to him, her nose nearly pressing into his chest. “Come on. We need to talk.” His hand landed on her shoulder and slid down to her elbow, his grip firm. Despite that, she knew he wouldn’t force her to come with him even though she knew he could. Maybe it was biological. It definitely wasn’t rational, but she found it extremely attractive. “Please, love.”

  “What do you want, Alex?” she asked, acutely aware of the eyes that followed them as they started down the path leading away from the stadium.

  “I want to talk to you,” he said. He drew to a halt near their practice court.

  “I don’t have anything I want to say to you.”

  “Yeah see, I don’t believe you,” he said, a smug grin tugging at his lips, waving his hands around at the empty practice courts.

  She shrugged. “Believe what you like.”

  “I get it. You’re hacked off at me. You’ve been hacked off at me for m
onths, since that night at the Aussie.”

  Penny blinked at him and shook her head in disbelief. “Seriously? You really think now is the time to talk about this?”

  “I meant to the day I arrived, but you kind of put up this force field, love, so I put it off and then the other night I worked up some courage.”

  “You mean you drank until you weren’t scared of me anymore.”

  “Right, that and you just shot me down.”

  “You were drunk and you didn’t just want to talk.” She arched an eyebrow at him and he shrugged unapologetically.

  “I’m not drunk now and while I’d much rather not talk, I think maybe we should.”

  “We can’t. We have a training session. Dom’ll be here in…” Her phone buzzed in her pocket, cutting her off. Alex’s phone buzzed as well. Only one person would be texting them at the same time.

  “Dom’s not coming,” he said, reading off his screen. “He’s got press to do with Jasmine and Indiana for the final tomorrow.”

  “Of course he does. I’m out of here.”

  In two strides he leapt out in front of her, blocking her path. “Oy, where are you going? We’ve got to train.”

  Penny looked up at the sky, a dusky blue color as a few dark wispy clouds gathered high in the heavens. Maybe if she were really lucky, lightning would strike and put her out of her misery. “First you want to talk, and now you want to train?”

  “We can’t do both?”

  “Train first,” she said, “then talk.” Of course she had no intention of sticking around once they finished their session. He’d just have to get over it.

  They stretched out on their practice court in silence, like they had every day since he arrived, but even without words, the connection between them was practically tangible. Every time he shifted, her body wanted to mimic the motion. She fought it, trying desperately to focus on her own stretching regime.

  What was it about him? Aside from the mind-blowing sex, of course. It was getting harder and harder to brush aside the memories of that night. She’d never experienced anything like it. Their bodies were made for each other and though her mind was set against him, her body refused to let her forget.