by Lola Keeley
“Is that why you were out on Friday night?”
I laughed, but it came out with a funny little snort. The universe clearly wasn’t going to give me any kind of a break.
“I really just wanted a dry martini. Anything else would be too much trouble.”
“So you don’t date? At all?”
I wanted to dodge the question altogether. Apart from anything else, it meant coming out all over again, even if I was pretty sure that Toni at least suspected the truth. Stalling for time, I gave her outfit the same appreciative once over that she had given mine. We all looked so different out of the unofficial uniform of T-shirts and tiny skirts.
Where I’d gone for a dark blue, she was human sunshine in a vibrant yellow that would look awful on me. I knew that much about fashion. Paired with subtle gold jewellery and her hair down in long dark curls, it was no wonder photographers had clamoured over her. I knew that a make-up team and stylists could bring out the best side of me when I did my endorsements for cars and watches and sportswear, but I’d never have that natural wow factor that kept drawing the attention of everyone who passed us.
I only realised I was staring, lost to the conversation, when Toni gave me a tentative smile. “Did I say something wrong?”
“Sorry, I’m so used to closing my mouth about my personal life that I think I’ve forgotten how to just talk about it.”
“You don’t have to—”
“No, I want to,” I interrupted her. “I’m sure you know what this life is like. The practice schedule, the travel. I haven’t really tried since my last breakup. It was just too much to…” I struggled to find the right word.
“Juggle?” Toni supplied. Her accent gave the J a soft Y sound, and I liked it a lot. “I get that. In fact it was the only upside of losing all that time to injury. I got to see what a normal life looked like again for a while. Keeping regular hours, being in one country for longer than a month. I can see why most people do that.”
We were interrupted by the discreet bell calling us all to dinner. My mother was bearing down on me, still in a good mood from our relaxed day and all the positive attention. She hated when I wandered off at these things, and despite my change in attitude, she still didn’t trust me to come and sit through dinner.
Worse, Jürgen had detached himself from the posse of beautiful girls and was making his way as though to escort me to dinner. That wasn’t necessary, but he’d done it the other times we’d ended up champions together. I always suspected he didn’t want me to make my own entrance and get any of the limelight to myself.
Only when he got to us, he found himself distracted by Toni.
“Ruiz, right?” He offered his hand to shake. “Didn’t know you were back.”
Oh. Of course he knew what had been happening with her.
“Yeah, only made it to the second round, though,” Toni replied, shaking his hand so briefly I wasn’t sure both hands had actually made contact. “Still, there’s always the US Open.”
“Oh, for sure. I plan on winning that one too. You in the mood, Larsson?”
I glared at him. Now we were back to his one-of-the-boys routine? God, he exhausted me.
“Right, let’s go sit up front so everyone can stare at us.” He offered his arm, which was at least gentlemanly. “My date’s waiting in there, or I’d consider a last-minute trade,” he added for Toni’s benefit.
Well, that did it.
“Jürgen, there are actually women in this world not waiting around for your attention to land on them. Besides, Toni is here as my guest. She’ll be sitting with me.”
I gave her a pleading glance. No doubt she had her own table, probably with her friends from the circuit, and here I was yanking her up to the winners’ table without even asking.
“Huh, I knew about you, Larsson, but I hadn’t figured… You been recruiting?”
“For God’s sake,” I muttered, but I was relieved when Toni took my arm instead and we marched right into the main ballroom. Of course my entrance was greeted with applause—no different to coming on court, really; it’s just polite—but there was a definite murmur around the room about me arriving with another woman. At least most people in the place would know who she was.
“Sorry for changing your plans for you,” I said as we took our seats. My plus one’s place card simply read guest of Miss Larsson. “I never do that. I hate bossy.”
“I don’t mind bossy,” Toni said, leaning in closer to say it over the noise of the event. “Just for future reference.” Then she turned to the person on her right, introducing herself and chatting to James, who was half of the winning Men’s Doubles pair.
That left me to take a steadying sip of my water before launching into the pleasantries with the Chairman and host, who sat to my left.
Jürgen joined us, taking a seat next to his bored-looking date, and the lights dimmed across the room. Time for the speeches that would usher us into the meal and drinks.
Toni’s thigh grazed mine, the long skirts of our dresses slipping against each other for a split-second as she turned back to face the stage. I felt that barest of contact like an electrical current through my leg.
It was going to be a long evening.
CHAPTER SIX
Somewhere in the bustle of the evening, I lost track of Toni. I had forgotten how many people wanted to talk at these dinners, and at every break in the programme, a new person would drop by to congratulate or ask a question. The selfies took a lot of time too, and I wished after a while that I could politely decline. Unfortunately, this crowd was full of people who had paid a small fortune or donated to various charities to be there, and between them and my fellow pros looking for social-media buzz, my cheeks were starting to hurt from all the smiling.
And as for my speech? The less said about that, the better. If I had natural ability with my forehand and speed, someone had borrowed heavily from my public speaking ability to make up for it. Thankfully, I didn’t have to say much beyond thanking people and making compliments about the organisation. That and always, always tell them that Wimbledon was your favourite tournament. Just like I said about the French Open in Paris and like I would hopefully say about the US Open in New York. Nobody minded a little white lie, as long as it was in their favour.
I hoped Toni had re-joined her friends at least or gone back to whatever plans she had before I hijacked her to piss off a misogynist with a great double-handed backhand. I scanned the room for her whenever I got a chance, and so many people offered to bring me drinks that I never needed to visit the bar myself.
A little high on champagne, given how rarely I got to drink, I sought out a quiet corner after the main courses had been served. Celeste was the one to join me.
“Having fun?” she asked. “When’s the last time you stayed this late at one of these things?”
“You say that like I’m not a famous party animal,” I teased her. “I remember us almost creating a scandal at the French Open dinner a few years back.”
“That was too much champagne at work. In danger of that tonight?”
I shook my head. “Being sensible. Are you enjoying being gracious in defeat? Or are people avoiding you? I hate when they just do the pitying looks from afar.”
“No, you hate losing,” Celeste corrected with an easy smile. “Mostly compliments on a well-fought match. Could be worse.”
I was pleased to see her, and Celeste had become a good friend in the way that only lesbian exes seem to manage, but the restlessness wouldn’t leave me. I watched for every flash of bright colour in case it was Toni in her yellow dress.
“Mmm,” I said to whatever Celeste continued with after that. It earned me a jab in the ribs.
“Distracted, much? Elin, are you seeing someone?”
“No,” I answered, and it had the benefit of being the truth.
“Is there someone y
ou wish you were seeing?” Celeste had never been a fan of my divided attention, and the end of our relationship had coincided with my most sustained period of consecutive wins. We didn’t stand a chance in the face of that. “Only, I thought yesterday that you were… I don’t know. Reminding me that married life isn’t all it’s cracked up to be?”
“What?” Now she had my attention. Celeste being open about her feelings was an unusual event. Eclipse levels of unusual. I heard that softness in her voice, and suddenly I wondered what I had missed.
“Nothing, it’s just I’ve been thinking lately that we were good together. When it was good. Amy made all these promises that the travel wasn’t a problem, that she’d come to as many tournaments as she could, and yeah, not so much in practice. I thought we’d get a few good years at least.”
I reached for her hand as I struggled to find words, but she pulled hers away. Just like that, the walls went right back up.
“I know it’s not my business, but you can always talk to me. You know that, right?”
“It’s nothing, honestly. Forget I said anything.”
“Celeste, it doesn’t sound like nothing. I don’t really know Amy, but maybe talking it out would help?”
“It’s fine, Elin. I’ll deal with it. Don’t you dare pity me either. You didn’t pity me when you whooped my ass on court yesterday, so don’t do it over this. I’ll be over it with a long run and a hot shower. And glad I didn’t jeopardise my marriage for old time’s sake.”
“Nice to know, I guess?”
“Well, your ego really needed the help.”
That time we both laughed, breaking some of the sudden tension. She gave me a casual, one-armed hug and leaned in to say one more thing. “Seriously, it’s not going to be me, but whoever has your attention tonight… At least give her a chance? You do actually deserve to be happy, hon. A racquet and a bunch of trophies aren’t going to keep you warm at night.”
“No, but that’s why I have blankets.” I tried to crack the joke, but my heart wasn’t in it. “And it’s nothing, honestly. Just a pretty face turning my head for a moment. In two weeks, I’ll be in Silicon Valley and I won’t even remember I was distracted.”
“You’re playing that one?” Celeste seemed surprised. “I thought you were keeping it to a minimum outside of the slams.”
“I have to make my quota,” I reminded her, the unspoken part being to keep my world number-one ranking. “And I owe someone a favour. Then it’s Cincinnati and the US Open. A few weeks of all things American.”
“You do like some American things, it’s true,” Celeste said with a sigh. “Just not the right ones and—”
“Elin?” Suddenly Toni was there, and I hadn’t even seen her approach. “I just wanted to say I have to go.”
Damn if I didn’t spring up from that comfortable velvet couch like it had caught fire. I spilled the remnants of my champagne in the process, though it avoided the silk of my dress. “So soon? I got caught up and abandoned you completely, I’m sorry.”
“No problem, I did some wandering, and I know plenty of people here. In fact, we’re going on to a club now, if you wanted to join us?”
Celeste’s snort at the idea almost goaded me into doing it, but my true nature won out in the end. The heels were pinching, my mouth kept getting dry from talking five times as much as usual, and the early signs of a headache were starting to tickle behind my eyes. I smiled at Toni and led her across the room to the main exit.
“No, sorry. I think I’m all partied out for one weekend,” I said, hoping she’d suddenly change her mind and stay now that she had my attention.
Maybe Celeste had a point about my damn ego.
“Going anywhere nice?” I asked.
“Some place where the trust fund kids and a couple of princes like to go, apparently.” She rolled her eyes as she said it. “But I’m flying out tomorrow, so it’s good to finish on a high note, right?”
“When do our paths cross again? Cincinnati?”
She shook her head. “Missed the rankings cut-off for that. I’ll be in Toronto, mostly because they invited me. First though, a week at home.”
“Me too. Well, both homes. We’re going to Stockholm for a few days then on to my own place in LA from there. Makes sense since it’s all-American for a while.”
“That must be nice,” Toni said. “I had a place in Florida for winter training for a couple of years, but I let it slide when I was out, and the federation don’t want to pay for anything extra now. Maybe when I get my number a bit higher.”
“Well, if you need some training space, you’re welcome in LA. I don’t really… I mean, there’s a great hotel just down the road from my place, but I have the courts and my team will be there.”
Toni stared at me like I’d forgotten to speak in English. “Did you just invite me to train with you?”
“Is that weird?”
She shook her head, but for the first time since we’d met at the bar, Toni wasn’t looking me in the eye. “You do that often? Offer people their dream training situation like it’s nothing?”
“What?” Damn, she had a point. I had never offered it to anyone. Even when we were together, Celeste and I had maintained our own places and our own training programs, entirely separate. I hadn’t even thought about it before offering; I was just so intent on a chance to spend more time with this woman. I fumbled for a way to walk it back and make the gesture seem less than it was. “Is it so unusual? When I started on the circuit, a bunch of us used to rent places together. Well, the organisers did it for us. I’m not asking you to move in or anything, but the facilities are pretty great if you need them.”
“You should write a brochure,” Toni said, reaching out to squeeze my arm. “I’m sure there’s already something in place, but let’s swap numbers anyway. If you don’t mind? I guess you don’t give yours out a lot.”
“Good guess.” I hated it, but my personal number was given out to only a handful of people. Press and business were filtered through another line, one that Parisa kept the phone for. I’d had my share of scary experiences when it came to personal privacy. “I make exceptions for new friends, though. Tell me yours and I’ll text you, then you’ll have it.”
“I promise not to sell it to the National Enquirer.”
“Is that still going? Last time I read it I was pregnant with triplets and marrying someone from One Direction.”
Toni snorted. “I’m sorry to have missed that.” She rattled off her number, and I keyed it in faithfully. A quick ‘hi’ message and my number had officially been passed to another person, making it no more than fifteen in total.
“Okay, so call me if you want to train,” I said. “Otherwise… Well, it’s up to you.”
Someone waved Toni down. “I really should go. Last chance to come with…?”
I shook my head.
“Okay, well enjoy the rest of being the champ.” Toni took me by the wrists this time, as natural as though we did it every day. When she kissed my cheek, the touch lingered, the creamy press of freshly applied lipstick no doubt leaving its mark. “And say hi to the triplets from me, you know, when you tuck them in.”
She was laughing as she left, and I found myself grinning like an idiot too. Moments later, Celeste was at my side again as though we’d never been interrupted.
“Isn’t that—”
“Yeah, she’s been injured. Back now, though.”
I made damn sure not to stare at the door, trying not to give away how much I hoped she’d change her mind about the club and come back, even if just for a little while. Despite my best efforts, I was quickly rumbled.
“Oh Elin, sweetie. Don’t tell me…”
“What?” I was straight on the defensive as though she had targeted my weaker backhand. “There’s no harm in finding out a colleague is a nice person. So we might be friends? So
what?”
“Friends, huh? Lot of wistful staring for just friends.” Celeste had a fresh drink but hadn’t brought me one. “Just as well, then, since everyone knows she’s with her coach. That Xavi dude, who gave Jürgen a fright on clay a couple of times. You must have seen her with him; they’re usually joined at the hip. Wonder where he got to tonight.”
It shouldn’t have been a disappointment. It shouldn’t have mattered one bit, in the grand scheme of things. Yet I felt my stomach do that strange falling sensation, leaving me a little queasy.
Of course.
It figured, really. That when I finally pulled my attention from tennis to another person, she wasn’t available. And probably straight, just to put the terrible icing on the crappy cake.
“Maybe that’s who she was off to the club with,” I suggested. It would make sense. A boyfriend who wanted time away from professional schmoozing but still wanted a fun night out with his beautiful girlfriend. Meanwhile, I’d been mentally inserting myself into a story where I was a bit part at best.
“You okay? You’ve got that look…”
“Tired,” I said, because it wasn’t lying. Being around this many people for this long really did exhaust me. “I’m going to head back.”
“Sure? The night is young, and so are we. Relatively speaking, in your case.”
I patted Celeste on the arm. Her teasing little digs always made me smile.
“Enjoy it. Go call your wife and feel better about all this.”
She snorted, but I had every faith she’d leave in a little while and make that call. Celeste didn’t give up on things, not until she absolutely had to. I left her to work the room, while I slipped out to the side entrance and hailed a cab. My mother could take the official tournament car home. She’d be out for hours yet.
When I got back to our rented home, the signs of our imminent departure were everywhere. I found my father in the dining room, supervising the last of the packing. By which I meant he had a glass of brandy, a brand-new hardback, and there were a few empty crates somewhere near him.
“Pappa.”
