Match Point Read online

  Miranda laughed and allowed herself to be towed across the room in the enthusiastic little group. At least now she had seen Jodi and it hadn’t been too terrible. She could stay for another hour and then slip out unnoticed.

  * * *

  An hour later Miranda found herself being shouted at by a fellow coach who was attempting to converse with her against the competing noise of the crowd and the DJ, who had seemingly sprung from nowhere to blast them with party tunes. She had mostly lost track of their conversation but breaking away seemed a bit rude. Suddenly, the music stopped, catching her companion short as he continued to shout.

  “Oh,” he said, as a quick blush rose up his neck. “The music’s stopped.” They laughed awkwardly together.

  Jason’s voice boomed out through the loudspeakers commanding the attention of the room.

  “Ladies and gentlemen.” Jason grinned at the crowd. “Thank you all for coming tonight to celebrate with us. Here at the Sacramento Tennis Club, we sure know how to support our own, and you guys are definitely showing that support tonight for our one and only US Open entrant, Ms. Jodi Richards.”

  At the mention of Jodi’s name, the crowd erupted into wild cheers. Jason waited for the noise to die down before he continued. “Tonight we’re not going to carry on with a bunch of speeches until you’re all falling asleep in your drinks, so, without further ado, I’d like to hand the microphone over to the lady herself. Please welcome Ms. Jodi Richards.”

  In a hail of stomping and cheering, Jodi stepped up to the podium, looking as poised as ever. Quiet confidence seemed to radiate from her as she looked over the crowd. Her face suddenly broke into a wide smile. “Well, aren’t you all a rowdy bunch!”

  The crowd laughed and clapped, as some wolf-whistled and called out encouragements.

  “But seriously,” Jodi said as she leaned closer to the microphone, “I want to thank you all for coming to tonight’s celebration. But it’s not just about tonight. I want to thank you all for coming out to the matches, day after day, and for sitting in the sun for hours on end to watch us smash a tiny ball across the court at each other. I don’t know quite why we do what we do, but I know that I love it and I just want to keep on doing it.”

  The crowd roared with appreciation as Jodi surveyed the room. “Most of you know Jason Stovak, my esteemed and fabulous coach. I couldn’t have done this without him. Jase has been on my team for the long haul, literally through thick and thin, and by thin, I mean the years when I wasn’t even here.” Jodi stopped to grin, acknowledging the laughter in the audience. “But I’m back now, and I’m doing my damnedest to stay back. I’d also like to thank Miranda Ciccone, who some of you know has been training hard with me for the last few months, and who is now leading the Juniors to certain victory on the courts this season.”

  Miranda clutched her wineglass firmly, smiling through the applause. She felt a rush of gratitude to have been mentioned.

  “And finally I’d like to thank all of you here at the clubhouse. I wish you all could come with me to New York for the Open!”

  The music cut back in as Jodi stepped off the podium, shaking hands left and right with her admirers. Miranda took a deep breath. She was relieved Jodi had made it sound like she hadn’t just quit.

  Unexpectedly, tears pricked her eyes, and she took a gulp of her wine; she decided that now would be a good time to slip out. She skirted around the back of the crowd and ducked out the side exit, nodding at the groups of partygoers who had spilled out of the clubhouse and onto the courts. A desolate sadness rose up inside her as she made her way to her car. She knew, with a certain finality, that it was all really over. She would not be going with Jodi to New York; she was no longer a part of the team. Like everyone else, Miranda would have to wait and watch from the sidelines to find out how things were going. She wouldn’t be there to watch Jodi’s face concentrating carefully on a game plan, or to share a tired smile in the backseat on the way home from a match. There would be no more early morning hotel breakfasts and late night powwows before bed. She wouldn’t know when Jodi was worried or frustrated, or feeling insecure. She had forfeited her right to know and now she had to get used to being just like everyone else.

  At her car she patted her pockets, looking for her keys. With a sigh of frustration she remembered they were in the pocket of her jacket, which was hanging snuggly on the back of a chair in the clubhouse.

  “Dammit!” Miranda moaned. Wearily, she trudged back across the courts to the party. The DJ was obviously taking her role seriously, she thought, as the thump of the bass line spread out into the night. Miranda let herself back in the side door and made a beeline for her jacket, relieved to see it hanging just where she’d left it. She snagged it, hooking it over her arm as she felt for the keys in the pocket.

  “Going so soon?” Jodi’s voice carried above the music. Miranda grinned sheepishly, startled to find Jodi standing in front of her.

  “It’s past my bedtime,” she said, raising her voice as Lady Gaga blared from the speakers.

  Jodi cocked an eyebrow. She leaned in closer to be heard above the music, saying, “Is it now? I seem to remember you were the one who liked to stay up late to chat.”

  Miranda caught Jodi’s gaze and held it, not sure if it was her heart or the music hammering in her chest. “I don’t know what I like anymore,” she heard herself say as Jodi leaned in closer to catch her words.

  “Drink darling? I hate to interrupt your tête-à-tête, but I almost had to break an arm to get these.” Lisa’s high laugh tinkled uncomfortably between them as she handed a glass of champagne to Jodi. Jodi took it, as if on autopilot, tearing her eyes slowly away from Miranda. With a wrench in her gut, Miranda watched Lisa drape an arm around Jodi’s shoulder, pulling her in close. She needed to get out of here. It was one thing to quit the team and suffer in silence, knowing she would never see Jodi again. It was quite another to have to watch Jodi parade around with her lover. Did she not think Miranda had any feelings at all?

  “Have a great night, guys,” Miranda managed, her voice tight in her throat. “I’d better go. Best of luck Jodi.” She turned and fled from the room.

  Grateful for the fresh air and space, the music followed Miranda as she pushed open the door to the short veranda. Her head was spinning and she grabbed the railing for a moment to steady herself before jogging down the stairs.

  How do I get myself into these things, she wondered, glancing up at the stars as she walked back to her car. I just wanted to be a coach. Her heart ached like a freshly skinned knee. I shouldn’t have come tonight. I don’t want to see her with someone else. I don’t want to see her at all. Miranda fumbled with her keys through a sheen of tears, trying to open the car door.

  “Miranda, wait!” Miranda turned to see Jodi running toward the car. Miranda shook her head, determined to avoid any further pain for the evening. “Please, just wait a minute.” Jodi threw her arm in front of the car door, blocking Miranda’s way. “Miranda, please,” she repeated.

  “What, why?” Miranda hugged her arms around herself as if she could somehow protect herself from what was to come. She took a step backward. “What more can there be?”

  “I-I didn’t want you to get the wrong idea,” Jodi stammered.

  “The wrong idea about what?”

  “About Lisa. About me and Lisa. I don’t know why she’s been acting like she owns me all night, but we’re not seeing each other.”

  Miranda shrugged helplessly. “Okay.”

  “Just okay?”

  “Well, yeah.” Miranda blew out a sigh and toyed with her keys. “I said okay. I don’t know why you’re telling me. It’s not like it’s any of my business.”

  Jodi took a step forward, closing the gap between them.

  “Do you want it to be your business?”

  “What the hell, Jodi?” Miranda exploded, making no attempt to disguise her anger. “Why do you need to make me say it? You’ve been perfectly clear about where you stand. So what
is this now, some kind of game for you? What are you looking for? Advantage: Richards?” Miranda jutted out her chin in frustration. “Well, you got what you wanted, so maybe you can just back away from the car and let me get on with my life now, please.”

  Jodi didn’t move. “What if I didn’t get what I wanted?”

  Miranda stared at her in confusion. “What do you mean?”

  “What if I want this?” Jodi cupped her hands around Miranda’s face and kissed her gently, then more deeply as their bodies melted against each other. Miranda wrapped her arms tightly around Jodi’s slender frame, driving away the space between them. Her heart danced in her chest as they kissed, mouths open, tongues brushing against each other.

  “Wait.” Miranda’s voice was hoarse, gently holding Jodi away from her. “I thought—”

  “No more thinking,” Jodi cut her off, pulling Miranda’s hips firmly toward her as she kissed her again. Miranda’s knees felt weak as desire spun through her like candy floss.

  “Miranda, do you still want this?” Jodi asked when they finally broke apart. Her voice was low and serious. “Because I really do. I’ve been stupidly focused on myself, on my tennis.” She shook her head ruefully. “I couldn’t see what was important to me.”

  “Tennis is important to you.”

  “Yes it is, and I hope it will continue to be for a long time to come. But so is living my life, and I think I can do both. I want this. I want you. I want to know you inside out, to learn all about you.” Jodi ran her thumb across Miranda’s jawline. “I want to know what makes you tick. I want to discover what it’s like to wake up with you lots of mornings in a row. Please tell me you want that too?”

  Miranda looked searchingly into Jodi’s eyes. “I do,” she whispered.

  “Then say we can be together because my heart is going to crumple up and die if you’re not in love with me too.”

  Miranda broke into a grin, her eyes twinkling as she hitched her thumbs through Jodi’s belt loops and tugged her toward her. “You’re in love me?”

  Jodi grinned back, winding her arms around Miranda’s neck. “I might be.”

  “It sure sounds like you are.”

  “Hmm, maybe I am. I’m not sure,” Jodi smirked, leaning back out of Miranda’s reach.

  “Really? What do you think you need to make up your mind?”

  “Maybe some more of these,” Jodi said and pressed her lips slowly against Miranda’s. Miranda kissed her back deeply, running her fingertips lightly up and down Jodi’s back, cupping her hands around her backside as she pulled her in close.

  “Is that making things any clearer?”

  “Oh yes, quite a bit.” Jodi’s voice was husky, her lips moved away from Miranda’s to trail kisses up and down her neck. “Do you think you could possibly love me?” Jodi murmured, her voice silken in Miranda’s ear.

  Miranda shivered, feeling the world open up around her. “Yes, I think that’s quite possible.”

  “And what would I need to do to seal the deal?”

  “I think,” Miranda replied between kisses, “it’s already done.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Miranda? Where are you?” Enid’s voice floated through the hallway and up the stairs.

  Miranda scrunched up her face, cracking open an eye to peek at the alarm clock next to her bed. Ten thirty a.m.

  “I saw your car in the driveway,” Enid called, “and your bag is on the hook, so I know you’re in here. I’m coming up. It’s too nice a day to sleep through.”

  Miranda registered the purposeful thud of Enid’s shoes on the stairs, instantly regretting for the hundredth time giving her friend the spare key to her house.

  “We’ll get you up,” Enid continued, thumping up the stairs, “and drown your sorrows in a cappuccino and a chocolate croissant down at the markets. The coffee is so strong there you’ll forget all about your broken heart in the caffeine rush. Now wake up!” Enid threw open her door.

  Miranda slowly opened her eyes and took in the shocked face of her best friend, standing stock-still in the doorway.

  “Morning, Enid,” she said.

  Jodi shifted in her arms, snuggling in closer as she murmured, “Well, this isn’t exactly how I’d planned our first morning together, darling.”

  “What the—” Enid spluttered, gripping the doorframe dramatically. “Holy crap! I’m so sorry. I had no idea. I wouldn’t have let myself in but I never in a million years expected—”

  “It’s okay,” Miranda laughed, pulling the sheet up a little higher around them. “Surprise!” She grinned sheepishly.

  “Surprise indeed!” Enid hovered in the doorway for a moment before bounding over to the bed. She perched on the end of it and tucked her feet up.

  “This is huge news! Now tell me all about it,” Enid demanded. “How did this happen?”

  “Enid!” Miranda protested.

  “Good morning, Enid,” Jodi said sweetly. “And how is Abby this morning?”

  “Abby!” Enid cried, jumping off the bed. “She’s waiting for us in the car. I’ll go and get her.”

  “No, wait Enid,” said Miranda. She suppressed a laugh. “Why don’t you guys go for the cappuccinos and the croissants and bring us back some when you’re done? If that’s all right with you, Jodi?”

  “Sounds perfect.”

  Enid looked torn. “Are you sure? We could wait for you guys to get up.”

  “I think Jodi and I will just take it slowly this morning.”

  “Of course, of course.” Enid nodded knowingly. “See you in a couple of hours then.”

  Enid banged the door closed behind her, clattering back down the stairs.

  “Huge news!” she cried jubilantly again up the stairs, letting herself out Miranda’s front door.

  “Good morning.” Miranda turned to Jodi, gazing into her eyes with a smile as she tenderly ran her thumb over Jodi’s bruised lips.

  “Good morning, yourself.” Jodi kissed her lightly, trailing her fingertips over Miranda’s chest. The dappled morning light bathed the bedroom in soft yellows. A light summer breeze was playing with the curtains. Miranda groaned, giving herself over to their kisses. Her skin felt different. She felt silken and lithe between the sheets as their bodies found each other again.

  “We might need to ring Enid,” Jodi whispered, her breath catching as Miranda lightly kissed the sensitive skin down her neck.

  “Why is that?” Miranda paused, suddenly confused.

  “I think we’re going to need more than just chocolate croissants this morning.”

  * * *

  Jodi stood in the tunnel waiting for the signal to enter the court. Her opponent stood in front of her, nervously tapping her racket bag. They didn’t look at each other, each trying to retain her inner focus and concentration. She was distantly aware of the crowd, buzzing with conversation and expectation as they waited for the umpire’s announcement.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” the umpire began. “Match one on court three today is Richards versus Sariovski. Please, welcome the players.”

  Jodi strode out of the tunnel purposefully; she set her bags down on her designated bench and got her rackets out. The crowd was larger than she had expected. She busied herself tightening her shoelaces. Jason had warned her that even the opening matches and the relatively unknown players still drew sizeable crowds at the US Open and he hadn’t been wrong. She repositioned her cap and stood up, loosening her limbs with a little on-the-spot jog.

  “Please come to the net for the toss,” the umpire called.

  Jodi made her way to the net and won the toss for service. In the stands, her eyes found Miranda, and her heart swelled. Miranda gave her a thumbs-up; next to her in the coach’s box, Jason did the same. She was so glad Miranda had flown to New York in time for the first match. It felt right to see her up there next to Jase.

  Jodi moved to the baseline. She accepted a volley of balls from the ball boy and tucked them into her skirt, giving one an experimental bou
nce. She took a deep breath and signaled to her opponent that she was ready to start their warm-up. No matter what happened here, no matter how tough her opponents, how grueling the matches, or how unrelenting the sun, the bad line calls, or the merciless heat, Jodi was ready.

  And now that she and Miranda had found each other, she had already won.

  Bella Books, Inc.

  Women. Books. Even Better Together.

  P.O. Box 10543

  Tallahassee, FL 32302

  Phone: 800-729-4992

  www.bellabooks.com