Match Point Read online

  As she sat in the bleachers later that morning, Miranda was glad they had eaten well. The heat was punishing, and while Jodi’s hard-won experience clearly gave her an advantage over the younger Laurent, she needed every ounce of her energy. Jodi widened the score gap with every point, drawing out their rallies with nail-biting intensity. Laurent was precise and seemingly unruffled, but Jodi continuously forced her out of her comfort zone. Miranda was transfixed.

  After winning the first set, Jodi increased her pressure on the young player, sending her around the court in a complicated dance that had the desired effect; Laurent tired and Jodi won the match with quiet confidence.

  Miranda cheered along with the rest of the crowd, filled with pride as Jodi accepted the tournament trophy and victoriously held it up to the crowd. Thank God, she thought as the tension of the day finally left her. What a mission. It was exhausting just to watch. She knew Jodi would be tired, but the high from the win would easily carry her through the night. Ducking out of her seat as Jodi finished a short speech of thanks, Miranda trotted up the steps and out of the stadium to the players’ locker room. She wanted to be there when Jodi arrived.

  Jodi hugged Miranda when she saw her in the locker room, a gesture that surprised even her. Despite the small group of tournament officials and friends who gathered to congratulate her, Jodi wanted a moment alone with Miranda.

  “You did it!” Miranda gave her a quick squeeze then held up her cell phone. “Video call,” she said, handing over the phone.

  Jason sported a wide grin as he gave Jodi a thumbs-up, congratulating her warmly. “Wait, Sal’s here too. Jump in, honey.” Sal’s face appeared next to Jason’s.

  “We’re so proud of you, Jodi.”

  “Thanks, you guys. I couldn’t have done it without you,” Jodi replied with a wide smile.

  “Call me for a proper debriefing tomorrow,” Jason requested. “I want to hear all about it. Now you can go do those interviews, okay?”

  “Will do, Coach.”

  Jodi felt dazed as she looked around. She recognized some of the tournament officials, members of the press, and even some other players.

  The tournament director rushed up and shook her hand. “We’re glad to have you, back in the game, Jodi,” he said.

  Jodi took his hand warmly and wracked her brain for his name. “And I’m glad to be here.” Jodi looked for Miranda, who had stepped aside. “This is my coach, Miranda.”

  “Nice to meet you, Miranda.” The man looked confused. “I’m Bernie Couch. Jason Stovack no longer around?”

  “I’m really just her assistant coach,” Miranda responded quickly. “Jason and his wife are having a baby, and he had to stay home to deal with some medical stuff. He’ll be back on board next week, we hope.”

  “Ah.” The director smiled. “He’s a good man to have in your corner, Jodi.”

  “Absolutely.” Jodi nodded.

  “We have a winner’s conference lined up for you in an hour in the main hub. Let us know if you need anything else.”

  “I need to shower. My shirt is starting to become one with my skin.”

  The director laughed good-naturedly. “Well then, you must do that. I’ll take care of these guys.” He gestured to the group.

  Jodi grabbed a towel from her bag and slipped into a cubicle.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” the director announced, “Ms. Richards is going to need half an hour. I suggest we give her some time to clean up and catch her breath before the press conference.”

  The small group murmured its approval and cleared out, leaving Miranda and the tournament director alone in the locker room.

  “She’s doing extremely well,” he commented. “How long have you been on the team?”

  “About a month and a half. It’s gone by so quickly it only feels like a few days, really!”

  “And she’s competing for the wild card?” he asked.

  Miranda stalled. Jodi didn’t like people to know her business and Miranda wasn’t really sure if she was supposed to talk about this kind of thing publicly. She recalled their conversation at the California USTA dinner. Jason’s voice echoed in her head. We need to let these USTA people know that she’s here and she’s in the market for the US Open wild card.

  “Yeah,” Miranda said. “That’s the idea.”

  “Well, at this rate, I think she’ll get it.” He slapped her on the shoulder. “We’ll see you at the press conference in an hour.”

  With the press conference finally over, a tournament steward ushered a tired Jodi and Miranda through a maze of bleak gray service corridors, running under the tennis center toward the building’s back exit.

  “We’ve got a car waiting for you out here,” he said as they followed behind him. “Most of the crowds have cleared out by now but this will help you leave quickly in case there are still some fans lurking around.”

  “I don’t know how you ever find your way around here!” Miranda exclaimed. “It’s a total rabbit warren.”

  “You get used to it,” the steward said. “Once you’ve done it a few hundred times you hardly ever get lost. So here we are.” He opened a nondescript door with a glowing green exit sign above it, and bright sunlight streamed into the corridor. Both women shielded their eyes as they looked out. They appeared to be at some kind of loading dock. A couple of workers in dusty blue overalls were stacking boxes of what looked like juice onto a trolley, and they nodded in greeting as Jodi and Miranda stepped out of the building. A silver car was parked by the entrance to the dock and two men stood leaning easily against the car.

  “That’s your driver,” the steward said, “but I’m not sure who the other man is.”

  Jodi took a step forward, squinting against the afternoon glare. Could it be? It had to have been over two years since she’d last seen him, but it was hard to mistake the tall, lanky figure with the slightly hunched shoulders.

  “It’s my dad,” she said quietly.

  “Oh, right! Cool!” The steward seemed relieved. “Even though we use this exit we sometimes still get crazy stalker fans who sneak around back here. Okay if I leave you to it now?”

  “Yes, thank you.” Jodi shook his hand distractedly and jogged over to the car to greet her father. Mystified, Miranda followed behind. Jodi had never mentioned her father. Knowing that Jodi and her sister had grown up with their Nan, Miranda had assumed Jodi’s parents weren’t alive.

  The driver greeted Miranda, taking the racket bags from her.

  “I hope this okay,” he murmured. “He said he was her dad and all.”

  “Yeah, I think it is,” Miranda said, feeling puzzled as she watched Jodi give her father a quick kiss.

  “Well, you girls let me know if you need me. I’ll wait in the car.”

  “Miranda,” Jodi called her over. “This is my father, David. Dad, meet my coach, Miranda Ciccone.”

  Jodi’s father gripped Miranda’s hand awkwardly. “Nice to meet you, Miranda, you’re obviously doing great work with my daughter.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Miranda said as he gave her hand one last pump and dropped it quickly. “I do what I can but she’s doing all the hard work.”

  “What are you doing here, Dad?” Jodi’s tone was light, but Miranda could sense a tightness behind the words. She placed a protective hand on Jodi’s shoulder.

  “I had a conference in Vancouver this week. One of my associates was talking up the tournament and how there was this star player we all just had to watch. Imagine my surprise when I realized it was you he was talking about! So I came to see you play. You were really something out there.”

  “Well, it’s nice to see you, Dad. But you should have called and let me know you were here. How did you even find me back here anyway?”

  “Oh, I just spoke to one of the stewards and told him I was your dad. He let me know I could wait for you out here.”

  Miranda made a mental note to email the tournament director about their security arrangements. There wasn’t much point i
n having a secure back entrance if the staff let any old person know where it was.

  “That’s great, Dad.” Jodi seemed tired. “I’ll be sure to tell Ally we bumped into you.”

  “Would you—could I—” her dad stumbled over the words, “perhaps I could take you out for dinner tonight? Miranda, you’d be welcome to join us.”

  “You should have called,” Jodi repeated, avoiding his eyes. “I’ve—I’ve already got plans for tonight.”

  “Of course.” His face fell. “I did think that might be the case. No matter.”

  “Look, why don’t I call you when I get back to Sacramento?” she suggested, her face softer. “We can catch up next time you’re in town. I’ll tell Ally too. The three of us can go out to dinner.”

  “I’d like that,” her father replied, his face brightening. He straightened up and moved away from the car. “I’d best leave you to it. Nice to meet you, Miranda.”

  “And you, sir,” Miranda replied, letting her hand finally drop from Jodi’s shoulder. “Safe travels.”

  Jodi’s father stooped, pulling Jodi into a brief hug. “Bye Jodi.”

  “Bye Dad.”

  Jodi stepped away from her father and opened the car door, sliding across the backseat to make room for Miranda. Miranda scooted in after her and the driver started the car.

  “Ready to go, ladies?” he asked, watching them from his rearview mirror.

  “Yes, please,” Jodi replied.

  Their car swept past Jodi’s father and he raised his hand in a wave. He looks lonely, Miranda thought, as they drove on. Jodi did not turn around to catch another glimpse of him. She stared straight ahead, her jaw clenched tightly as they left the tennis center.

  “You okay?” Miranda asked, reaching over to rub Jodi’s arm.

  Not turning her head, Jodi gave a nod. She took Miranda’s hand and held it tightly in her own. Miranda gave her hand a squeeze.

  “Bit of a shock for you?” she asked gently.

  Jodi nodded again and turned to meet Miranda’s gaze. Her dark eyes were bright with the sheen of unshed tears. “You could say that,” she said with a slight smile.

  They continued to hold hands, Miranda rubbing her thumb gently over Jodi’s as the car took them through the busy streets of downtown Vancouver, toward their hotel.

  “Do you really have plans tonight?” Miranda asked quietly.

  “Sort of. We could go to the tournament party at Retro Club. I’ve heard it’s a really cool bar.” Jodi paused. “I don’t really care what we do, I just want to celebrate tonight.”

  “And dinner with your dad doesn’t fall into that basket?”

  “Definitely not.” Jodi gave a hollow laugh. “I haven’t seen him for years. We barely speak. He’s not a bad man or anything, but he’s just never really been there for us and I don’t feel close to him in any way. Seeing him just stirs up sad old memories.”

  Miranda squeezed Jodi’s hand lightly. “I think I get what you mean.”

  “Ally and I grew up with our Nan,” Jodi said, looking out the window as she spoke. “Our mom died when I was really young and Dad just faded out of the picture. He couldn’t deal with us, I guess. I don’t blame him, but I don’t really know him. He used to send letters and stuff—now he texts or emails occasionally.” Jodi smiled ruefully, turning to face Miranda. “Not even for birthdays, just when he remembers, I suppose.”

  Miranda’s heart ached for the vulnerable child Jodi had been. She thought she could still see a glimpse of that child now. Instinctively she raised Jodi’s hand to her lips and kissed it lightly. Jodi let go of Miranda’s hand and unbuckled her seat belt, sliding across the leather seats to sit next to her. She rebuckled her seat belt and slipped her hand back into Miranda’s, leaning her head against Miranda’s shoulder. Her body pressed warmly against Miranda’s arm and Miranda felt her pulse quicken.

  “I’m sorry you’ve had a hard time,” Miranda murmured, intoxicated by the delicate smell of Jodi’s perfume. Impulsively she dropped a soft kiss on Jodi’s glossy head. Jodi snuggled in closer, holding Miranda’s hand more tightly.

  “It feels okay now.”

  They stayed pressed closely together for the rest of the drive, watching the streets go past until the driver pulled up at their hotel. Reluctantly, Miranda straightened up, letting go of Jodi’s hand.

  “Well, let’s make sure we really celebrate tonight then, hey?” she said, smiling into Jodi’s eyes.

  “I’d like that,” Jodi replied. “Thanks for being a good friend, Miranda.”

  Miranda climbed out of the car, grabbing Jodi’s racket bags from the driver and thanking him. Good friend, huh, she thought, as they walked into the hotel. Her pulse was still knocking about erratically as they stood at the counter to check in for messages. She shoved her hands in her pockets, resisting the urge to wrap an arm around Jodi’s waist and pull her back in close. I can be a good friend.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “So, who are these people again?” Miranda leaned over the edge of the ferry and stared at little frothy waves produced by the weight of the massive ship as it cut through the bright, blue ocean.

  “Karen and Mark,” Jodi replied. “Karen and I went to high school together and they’re two of the sweetest people you’ll ever meet. Now please, don’t lean so far over the edge.” Her heart jumped as Miranda tipped herself a little further over the rail and then shot her a cheeky grin. “People do fall off you know,” Jodi admonished, “and they won’t stop the boat for you. I’ll just have to go to dinner without you.”

  Miranda laughed and hauled herself back over the rail. “Well, we can’t have that, now can we? I wouldn’t get to meet the sweetest people on the planet, and I wouldn’t get to go to Vancouver Island, which sounds terribly romantic. Will anyone else be there?”

  Jodi chuckled. “I actually don’t know. Probably. They love to entertain, so it wouldn’t surprise me if they made it a bit of a night.”

  “I can’t believe we’re doing this!” Miranda’s smile was infectious. “I’m so glad your friends invited us to dinner. I never imagined we’d have time to do something so super cool.”

  “Well, you did say you wanted to do some touristy things. Actually, this is pretty rare for me too. Usually Jase rushes me out of the city as soon as the tournament is over, but for some reason this time he gave us an extra day. Maybe the flights were cheaper tomorrow.”

  Miranda hung onto the railing and shook her hair as the wind picked up. Jodi wished she had a camera to capture the moment: Miranda’s tousled blond hair, and eyes that matched the sparkle of the water. It was a stunning, clear afternoon and Miranda seemed joyful. Jodi’s own hair was tied up firmly and she was enjoying the cool breeze on her neck.

  The edge of the mainland receded quickly as the ferry powered across the Strait of Georgia. In front of them, the afternoon was a wash of blues; the sky met the ocean in an almost seamless horizon.

  “Well, I don’t really care what the reason is,” Miranda said. “I, for one, am going to make the most of it. How long is this ride?”

  “About an hour and a half.”

  “And they’re picking us up on the other side?”

  “Yep, that’s the plan.”

  “And we’re staying the night. That’ll be fun. Better than staying in the hotel again. I feel claustrophobic in there.”

  “You definitely won’t have that problem at Karen and Mark’s,” Jodi said with a knowing smile.

  An hour later, they bumped their way across the island in Karen’s rusty little car. Jodi sat in the front while Miranda stretched out in the back.

  “Hey,” Miranda muttered.

  Jodi looked back. “What’s wrong?” she asked, puzzled by Miranda’s confused look.

  “I didn’t realize it would be so huge! You said we were coming to an island but this is like a whole new country.”

  Karen howled with laughter as she turned down a small, tree-lined street. Glimpses of the ocean flickered through the trees.
“You’re right there,” she said in a slow Californian drawl. “Vancouver Island is small in Canadian terms, but it’s bigger than some European and African countries. It’s a shame you’re not staying longer. There’s so much incredible beauty to experience here.”

  “Luckily, we’re going to your house,” Jodi chimed in. “She’ll get a small taste of that beauty there.”

  Karen sighed happily and turned onto a long, gravel driveway. “I hope you like nice views, Miranda,” she said.

  From the backseat, Miranda gasped; even Jodi—who had seen this view many times before—was struck by the sight before them. Set on the edge of a craggy, black cliff was a small brick house, tiny against the vast expanse of ocean and dark rock face.

  Karen turned off the engine. Jodi felt her spirits lift as the three women sat for a moment in silence.

  “Home sweet home,” Karen said eventually. She threw off her seat belt and jumped out of the car. “Come on, Mark’s excited to see you.”

  Jodi and Miranda hauled their bags from the car and trotted after their host.

  “Jodi!” Mark cried, clattering down the stone steps to embrace her. “You should stay longer,” he chided with good humor.

  “Hey, I just got here!” Jodi laughed. “Give me a break! Mark, this is Miranda, one of my coaches.”

  Mark grabbed Miranda’s hand and pumped it warmly. “Great to meet you. You’re obviously doing wonders with Jodi. She seems almost human.”

  “Hey!” Jodi laughed as they started for the house. “Take my rackets, would you? They’re heavy.”

  “Ah now, see?” He raised his eyes pointedly at Miranda. “That’s the Jodi we know and love.”

  “Oh, yes,” Miranda teased. “She makes me shine her shoes every day and peel her a grape in the evenings before bed.”

  Mark barked with laughter and threw his heavy arm around Miranda’s shoulder. “I’m glad she brought you.”

  Jodi settled into a warm glow as she carefully edged in through the small door. She heard Miranda’s sharp breath behind her as they stepped into the enormous living room where wall-to-wall windows overlooked the ocean. From where they stood the grass outside seemed to run away to nowhere, the steep cliff face out of sight, leaving a feeling of being able to step out of the back door and into the rippling blue.