Match Point Page 4

  Miranda looked searchingly at her friend, suddenly feeling serious. “What’s happened to us, do you think? Why are we both so scared of love?”

  “I don’t know exactly.” Enid gently swirled the last of her coffee around in the cup. “I guess we’ve been around the block a bit, haven’t we? We’ve seen what’s out there, we know about the heartbreaks and the perils. Maybe it gets harder to convince yourself to take a risk as you get older.” She trailed off. “Anyway, all you seem to be interested in is tennis. Girls do get tired of competing for your attention, you know.”

  Miranda thought about the string of halfhearted relationships she had had over the years, all of which had gradually fizzled out to nothing. Things always seemed to start off well, but then as Enid said, no one seemed to understand Miranda’s passion for coaching and the energy she dedicated to her team. Inevitably, the jealousies would arise and then they would drift apart until it was awkward and one of them would have to call it a day. She felt done with that story. “Oh, well. I don’t mind being an old maid. It seems sort of romantic somehow.”

  “There’s nothing romantic about being alone,” Enid said, fixing Miranda with a long hard stare. “You’re going to have to get back out there one day.”

  “Okay, okay.” Miranda put her hands up in mock surrender. “Just not today. I’ve got enough to worry about with this job interview. Let’s focus on one thing at a time!”

  It was a nerve-wracking interview and a nail-biting week while Miranda waited to hear back from the club. Finally, just when she had truly convinced herself it had all been for nothing and wondered if she could return the clothes, having only worn them once, she received a call from Jason, thanking her for coming to the interview and offering her a spot on his coaching team. She had, of course, accepted, in happy disbelief.

  Walking back across the court to the clubhouse, Miranda shivered in the cooler evening air. She zipped up her sweatshirt and rubbed her arms, hugging herself a little as she hurried up the steps. She knocked lightly on Jason’s door and stuck her head around the opening.

  “Hey, come on in.” Jason motioned her to sit in the chair across from his worn, friendly desk. “Have a good day with the juniors today?”

  “Totally.” Miranda settled in the chair, resting her elbows on his desk. “These kids are pretty amazing. I think we’re going to see some excellent results in September.” She wondered again why she was here. They had definitely gone over this just yesterday.

  “Glad to hear it.” Jason leaned back in his chair and stretched his arms out. “Forgive me, it’s been a huge day and I’m beat, so I’ll get straight to the point. Jodi needs a proper coaching team now and I want you to have a crack at assistant coach.”

  Miranda sat up straight in her chair, blinking in surprise. “What? Me? Assistant coach?”

  “No, the person behind you. Yes, you, Miranda!” He grinned. “Assistant coach. I’d like to suggest we give it a month’s trial and if we’re both happy after that time we can make it official. Obviously, it would be a better paid position and we can nut all that out after the trial, but I think we can cross that bridge when we come to it. For now, what do you say?”

  “Say?” Miranda looked like she was having troubling hearing him. “What do I say? I say yes. Yes! Wow. This is amazing, thank you!”

  “Great! Good.” Jason thumped his fist down on the desk with satisfaction. “I feel like this is going to be a win for all of us. I’d like you to shadow me for the next month, watching the match preparations, physio sessions and all other aspects of training. Primarily you’ll be Jodi’s training partner, hitting balls, matching her across the court, but I want you to be across all aspects of coaching at this level. Tonight I want you to come up with a plan for how you would prep Jodi for the finals on Saturday, and her coming matches over the next month, and then we’ll compare your ideas with mine as we go along. I’ll get you to make detailed plans for each of her tournaments as well as a general fitness and training regimen, and skills enhancement program. You will eat, sleep and breathe Jodi and her tennis for the next month and at the end of it we’ll see where we stand. Okay?”

  Miranda nodded eagerly and then abruptly stopped, seeing the gangly little bodies and keen faces in her mind. “Yes, Coach, it’s all definitely yes, but what about the junior team? We’ve really been building something and I don’t want to let them down.”

  “The juniors will be fine. We’ve mapped out their game plans for the next few months and the rest of the junior coaching team can carry that forward for now. You’ll still be around the clubhouse and you can check in on them regularly and explain to them what’s going on. I’m sure they’ll be excited for you, and it’s good for them to see that we can all advance in tennis, even the coaches. I really admire how much you care, which is why I want to get you up to Jodi’s team. I want to focus exactly that kind of passion and energy on getting Jodi that wild card entry into the US Open.”

  “Well then, I definitely say okay!” Excitement bubbled up inside Miranda. Suddenly she was eager to get going and start on her plan for Jodi for the next few days. Today being Wednesday, she thought, mentally mapping things out, only leaves us two days for last-minute finals prep. We don’t want to work her so hard that she’s tired out for Saturday’s match, but we don’t want to let her go soft and lose her drive either. She stood up and reached her hand across the desk to shake Jason’s hand. “Thanks Coach,” she said seriously, her eyes shining with focus. “This means a lot to me.”

  Jason stood too, pushed back his chair and ignored her outstretched hand. He strode out from behind his desk and pulled her into a quick hug. “Glad to have you on the team, Miranda.”

  He saw her out, calling after her as she danced down the clubhouse steps. “Six a.m. sharp tomorrow morning. Meet us at the Gold River Racquet Club practice courts, where the tournament is.”

  Miranda looked back in shock and then grinned. “Right on, Coach. I’ll bring the coffee!”

  Miranda’s cell phone was ringing as she threw her bag onto the passenger seat and slid into the car. Switching to Bluetooth, she fired up the car and waited to hear the beep that meant she was connected through her stereo speakers.

  “Hello?”

  “Hello yourself,” Enid’s voice countered. “Where are you?”

  “I’m just leaving work.”

  “Why do you sound so happy? It’s late. You know at this rate you may as well give up the lease on your house and move into the clubhouse!”

  Pulling out of the club parking lot, Miranda smirked. “Oh, you have no idea.”

  “What? Seriously, you sound like the cat that got the cream. What’s going on?”

  “Guess who just got bumped up to assistant coach?” Miranda said.

  “Assistant coach?” Enid sounded confused. “I thought you were already head coach for the juniors. Isn’t that a demotion? You know you’re supposed to be sad about demotions, not happy, Miranda.”

  “Not if you’ve been made assistant coach for Jodi Richards!” Miranda said, heading into a long line of evening traffic all trying to go the same way home.

  “What? You’re kidding me. The Jodi Richards? The hot chick who’s back after being away for, like, forever from tennis? Miranda Veronica Ciccone, how the heck did that happen and why didn’t I know about it?” Enid demanded.

  “Okay, okay,” Miranda laughed, “hold your fire and I’ll explain.” She inched the car forward. “Jason used to coach Jodi years ago when she first hit the scene and I guess she asked him to be her coach again for her comeback. I’ve got a month’s trial as assistant coach but I’m going work my butt off and hopefully they’ll keep me on. Mostly I’ll just be doing training with her, you know, hitting balls back across the court and stuff. But, whatever, I can’t believe this is happening. I’m so excited!”

  “Wow,” Enid said, the glow in her voice matching Miranda’s. “I’m so proud of you, Mirry. You want to go get a drink and celebrate at Murphy’s?”
>
  Miranda smiled at the sound of her old high school nickname. “I would love to, but I can’t. I’ve got to be at work at six a.m. tomorrow, with a prefinals training plan mapped out for Jodi, and at the rate this traffic’s moving, I might as well turn around and head there now!” She nosed the car forward another inch, hoping the bumper-to-bumper gridlock would ease up soon. “Do you really think she’s hot?”

  “Are you kidding? Do you live under a rock? Yes she’s hot, she’s totally hot,” Enid said.

  “Oh, well, I guess you’re right. Anyway, it’s not the point right now. The point is, hot or not hot, I’m her new assistant coach and I’m going to have to get my game plan sorted. Jeez!” Miranda honked her horn as the car in front of her jerked to a sudden stop. She slammed on the brakes, narrowly avoiding a rear-end collision. “I’d better go, I need to focus on this traffic from hell. I’ll call you tomorrow when I’m done and fill you in on my first day of Operation Assistant Coach.”

  “Okay, be careful out there. Drive safe! Have a great first day.”

  She hung up and settled back into her seat, enjoying the silence of the car and the settling darkness of the evening. Easing her foot down on the gas, Miranda pulled forward as the traffic slowly began to flow. She couldn’t wait to get home and get to work in her notebook.

  Chapter Three

  At ten past six the following morning, Miranda leaned groggily on the wire fence of the Gold River Racquet Club practice courts, racket bags at her feet and a coffee in each hand, as she watched Jason pull into the parking lot. She had known she would pay for her late night, but she didn’t care. She had stayed up conscientiously designing an intricate game plan for Jodi’s training. What’s one late night, she thought to herself. After a lengthy conversation with her parents, in which they had peppered her with a million excited questions about her new role, she had finally hung up the phone, promising to call them when she knew more about where she’d be going and what she was doing.

  She pored over the match schedule for the next month, noting the court types, the likely player entries, the time between matches, the distance between tournaments, and eventually, she had focused on Jodi herself. She had written an analysis of Jodi’s strengths and weaknesses, detailing her areas for improvement, her skills to capitalize on and the techniques they would need to bolster over the coming months. Miranda had drafted a training regimen, based on this analysis, and finally, she had tumbled into bed to snatch a couple of hours of restless sleep. It struck her, as she drifted off, that had things been different, had she not had the cancer, all this type of planning could have been done for her. Oh well, she thought, wriggling down under the sheet as her cat settled in next to her on the bed, at least I get to be involved on some level. In the depths of a dream about Jodi and an endless training formulation, her alarm rudely woke her at quarter past five.

  “One of those for me?” Jason called as he approached from the parking lot, eying the coffees.

  “Only if you hurry,” Miranda replied, taking a sip from one of the cups, “I’m working my way through them.”

  “Thanks, sorry I’m late,” he said, gratefully taking the cup Miranda offered as she fell into step beside him. “I couldn’t find my car keys.” He shook his head ruefully. “Sally had them in her bag. I swear, sometimes she steals my keys on purpose just to enjoy watching me look for them!”

  “If I were your wife I wouldn’t be watching you hunt for your keys at five in the morning. I’d be making you sleep in the spare room so you didn’t wake me up.”

  “What are you talking about? You get up at five a.m. too,” he said as they walked to the breakout rooms.

  “Yes, but if I were your wife, I wouldn’t have to. Why oh why did I pick assistant coach? I should have gone for wife,” she smirked.

  “Ha!” He punched Miranda playfully on the arm. “But then you’d have to be barefoot and five months pregnant, and anyway, I’m not entirely sure you’re the wifely type.”

  “Hmm, yes true, I’m not sure I’m ready for the baby thing, but I will make some girl a great wife one day, you just wait.”

  “Miranda, I’ve known you three years and you haven’t dated a soul. You need to actually date someone to become their wife.”

  “Yeah, well, that’s your fault,” she said, mocking Jason accusingly. “I haven’t had the time to date.”

  “Because coaching the juniors has kept you so busy?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Night and day, huh?”

  “Yep.”

  “Not a moment to spare.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Well things just got a whole lot worse, my friend. Now that you’re on a proper pro tennis team, you’re most certainly going to wind up as an old spinster,” Jason said.

  “I prefer bachelorette, thank you. Spinster sounds like I would have to be very wrinkly, and just because I’m alone doesn’t mean I have to be wrinkly and unattractive.”

  “True. Okay, you can be whatever you want, but hot bachelorette or not, let’s make sure we’re both coaching a tennis star by the end of this season.” Together, they dragged a couple of chairs up to a table against the window at the back of the breakout room. Jason pulled out his folder and spread it open on the table. “How did it go with the prefinals prep I asked you for?” he asked.

  “Really well,” Miranda said. She sat down across from him and opened up her notebook. “It’s all here. I hope,” she added as she slid the notebook across the table.

  Miranda watched Jason’s face as he read through her plan, hoping to catch a glimpse of approval on his face, but his features were blank as he read it over. Her stomach gave a nervous twist as he put his hand on the book and looked up at her. “I didn’t expect this much detail.”

  “Is it okay?” she asked anxiously.

  “It’s excellent,” he replied, suddenly grinning at her. “Your prep plans for the next few days match mine almost exactly. The only thing you’ve got that I don’t have is the backhand training. Explain that one to me a bit more.”

  “Well,” Miranda cleared her throat nervously, “we all know Jodi’s got the killer backhand slice, but in a way, that’s what people are expecting of her. I thought perhaps we could work on some backhand drop shots so that we keep her opponents guessing. Get her feeling completely confident with a range of backhands. That way, they’ll be preparing themselves at the baseline for her trademark slice and she’ll surprise them with a shot just over the net. They’ll be running themselves crazy trying to catch up with her.”

  “I love it!” Jason slapped the table enthusiastically, his eyes shining. “Let’s pull it all together and we can go over it with Jodi when she comes in later.”

  * * *

  Jodi pushed open the door to the breakout room. Two figures bent over a folder in the back corner of the room. Jason was sitting with a woman she vaguely recognized but couldn’t place. She studied her for a moment. The woman tucked her short blond hair behind her ear as she leaned forward to point to something on the page they were clearly discussing.

  “Ahem,” Jodi coughed as she approached them.

  They both looked up and Jason smiled broadly.

  “Jodi! Excellent, come sit. You remember Miranda?” He gestured to the blonde woman whose full lips gave a warm, if a little timid, smile.

  “Yes, of course,” Jodi replied, suddenly remembering the pretty, oval face from brief encounters at the clubhouse. “Nice to see you again, Miranda.”

  “You too, Jodi.” Miranda leaned forward and reached out to shake her hand. “Thanks for having me on your team. I’m stoked to be a part of your comeback!” The warm hand held Jodi’s for a brief moment, gave her a light squeeze, and was gone again before she knew it.

  “Glad to have you onboard. Have you two been here long?” Jodi drew a chair up to the table.

  Jason glanced at his watch. “Gosh, we’ve been sitting here for two hours!” He stretched out his long arms and gave a loud yawn. “I think i
t’s time for more coffee.”

  “I’ll grab it,” Miranda said. “Would you like one, Jodi?”

  “I’m all right, thanks. I’ve already had one this morning. Can’t have too much caffeine in this heat—I get dehydrated.”

  “Of course.” Miranda looked vaguely embarrassed, her cheeks slightly flushed. “Can I get you a water or a juice or something?”

  “I’m all good for now,” Jodi repeated and gestured to the bottle sticking out of her racket bag. “Keeping up my fluids today!”

  “Right, cappuccinos for you and me then, Jase. And then I guess we should probably stick to water, too, if we want to keep up with Jodi.” Miranda backed away from the table and made her way over to the coffee machine.

  As Miranda crossed the room, Jodi noticed her slim, strong figure. She’s cute, Jodi thought, contemplating the straight back and long legs.

  “How are you feeling after yesterday?” Jason’s voice cut through Jodi’s thoughts, bringing her attention back to the table.

  “Really well.” She rolled her shoulders experimentally. “Hardly any pain and the physio totally worked out the residual tension this morning. My muscles feel really free, no stiffness at all.”

  “Excellent. So I think we’ve come up with a really strong plan for the next two days, wouldn’t you say, Miranda?” he asked, relieving her of the coffee she carried.

  “Definitely.” Miranda nodded enthusiastically at Jodi.

  “Nothing too intense over the next two days, mostly just a focus on some skills training and keeping your body warmed up. Why don’t you tell her about the backhand idea, Miranda?”

  Miranda’s clear blue eyes met Jodi’s across the table. “Well, it’s just a thought, and feel free to veto it, but I was thinking we could start work on varying your backhand shots, saving the slice for the moments when you really need it, and focusing on some other shots to keep your opponents guessing more on the court.”

  Jodi studied the earnest face before her. It was a good idea but she felt nervous about any kind of change at this stage in the game, especially coming from someone who had known her for all of five minutes. Becoming predictable, however, sounded a death knell in competitive sports. Jodi looked at Jason to gauge his reaction.