Match Point Page 5

  “It’s just something we could work on in conjunction with your current training sessions. I’ve been watching your matches in this tournament round closely, and Jase had me go over a lot of footage from before you, er…” Miranda paused, suddenly going pink. “I mean, from when you were, um…last on circuit,” she finally stammered out.

  “What about my serve?” Jodi wasn’t entirely sure why she was being so cold to this woman but it couldn’t be helped. She was fighting her way back onto the court tooth and nail, and if she made it to the US Open, it would be through sheer grit and determination. There wasn’t room for protecting people’s feelings. And really, the last thing she needed right now was to be worrying about the feelings of some upstart stranger who was trying to turn her game upside down. Even if she is cute. Jodi brushed the thought from her mind and turned once again to Jason. She needed to stay focused on the game, and the game alone, if she was going to get anywhere with this comeback.

  “I thought we had decided to focus on my serve today, Jase?” she repeated.

  “We will, Jodes, but there’s no reason we can’t add in a little backhand technique to complement your game.”

  “I just don’t want to get myself all confused right now. And I don’t want to be second-guessing myself out there, wondering which shot I should play. I want to be able to just go with the flow.”

  “Of course,” Miranda joined in. “And that’s the whole point, I guess. If we can build in some extra backhand work you might find you have more confidence to choose between your shots more effortlessly—you wouldn’t even have to think about it because the skill would be right there at your fingertips.”

  “She’s got a point,” Jason said.

  Jodi absentmindedly wound a piece of her hair around her finger, carefully thinking about the proposition.

  “Look, I’m happy to check out your plan but really, my main focus right now is to get my serve back up to standard, and then we’ll see about building in some backhand work,” Jodi said, avoiding Miranda’s eyes. She didn’t want to be pushed into anything, especially not by a stranger.

  If Miranda was disappointed she didn’t show it. Jodi was pleased to note she didn’t have a princess on her team. Often trainers could become so attached to their own ideas they would push on, just to fulfill their egos, regardless of what their player wanted. She’d seen it over and over and it never ended well. And that’s why she loved working with Jason. He always listened to her, and he never pushed. She smiled affectionately at him and pulled her chair up to the table for a closer look at their plan.

  “Pretend you’re dancing,” Jason suggested as they worked on her service later that morning. “Think of your foot positioning like a dance. Remember the mantra, right foot forward, toss the ball, left leg lift, and down,” he said in a singsong voice. “You just need to find your rhythm again, that’s all. You’re overthinking it. Cut loose and let your body take over.”

  Jodi focused her gaze across the court to where Miranda was standing, waiting to receive her serve from the baseline. Her feet were apart and she was rocking slightly, in readiness.

  She relaxed her shoulders and tossed the ball into the air. Left leg lift, and down. She drove the ball across the court with incredible power, snapping it straight down the left sideline. Miranda lunged for the ball, and laughed as it clipped her racket and shot up in the air.

  “Great serve, Jodi,” she called out, “looks like you’re really nailing that footwork now.”

  “Thanks,” Jodi called back. “Let’s bash out a few more and then hit the showers. I don’t want to miss the start of this morning’s semi.”

  Miranda repositioned herself back on the baseline as Jodi lined up for another serve. This time she hammered the ball into the back corner of the service box, again with so much power that Miranda struggled to return it. They rallied briefly before Jodi caught the ball in her hand and set up for another serve. Miranda was holding up well, Jodi noted. Perhaps she would be a good addition to her team after all. She’s certainly better to look at than Jason, Jodi thought, watching as Miranda bent down to fix her shoelace. Her legs were shapely, and her thin muscular thighs rose up gracefully to meet the line of her shorts.

  “Sorry,” Miranda called over as she stood back up. “I’m ready.”

  Jodi glanced away quickly, bouncing the ball purposefully in front of her.

  They kept it up for another fifteen minutes, Miranda working hard to return Jodi’s serves, Jodi concentrating intensely on her footwork and positioning, until Jason suggested they finish up for the morning.

  “Why don’t you ladies get showered and I’ll meet you over at center court. I want to call Sally quickly before the match starts.”

  Miranda followed behind Jodi as they entered the players’ locker room to shower. They dumped their bags on benches and Jodi headed to a shower cubicle, towel slung over her shoulder.

  “How are you feeling about your serve now?” Miranda asked, heading to the cubicle next to hers. “That was quite a session.”

  Jodi stripped off inside the cubicle, throwing her clothes over the shower door and slipping her feet into a pair of flip-flops. She felt exhilarated from the practice, pleased to feel it all coming together.

  “Much better actually. It’s surprising how quickly it’s all coming back to me. I think it’ll be good to start each day on my serve.” Jodi turned the taps on and gasped as a stream of cold water hit her warm body.

  “Muscle memory, hey. It’s a wonderful thing.”

  Fiddling with the taps Jodi balanced the water temperature and relaxed under the thick spray. “I wasn’t sure if I’d still have it, you know? Five years is a pretty long time to be away from a sport like tennis. I’m feeling pretty relieved right now,” she said, momentarily letting her guard down. She surprised herself with her honesty.

  “I bet. Well, you can definitely feel relieved if that serve is anything to go by. I nearly wrenched my arm out of its socket trying to return some of those balls.”

  Jodi laughed from inside her cubicle. “Sorry about that!”

  “That’s okay, you can repay me with soap. I seem to have left mine behind. Have you got some I can borrow?”

  “Sure, I’ll pass it under.”

  Their hands met under the wall that separated their showers, and Jodi was suddenly aware that Miranda was naked, with nothing but a thin wall separating them. She shivered, trying not to imagine what Miranda looked like as she soaped her body. Abruptly Jodi turned off her shower and grabbed her towel, rubbing her face hard as if to erase the thoughts.

  “Do you need this back now?” Miranda asked from her side of the wall.

  “No, no, I’m done, you can keep hold of it.” Jodi quickly dried off and wrapped the towel around her, gathered up her gym clothes and headed into the locker room to get changed. She hurried to pull on her T-shirt, and fumbled with her shorts as she heard Miranda’s shower stop. She didn’t want to have to get changed in the locker room together. All of a sudden, she felt awkward and self-conscious.

  “I’ll see you over at center court,” she called out to Miranda, stuffing her clothes into her gym bag.

  “Gee, you’re quick.” Miranda sounded surprised. “Sorry, I take forever in the shower. I’ll catch you there.”

  Jodi made a beeline for the door as she heard the latch on Miranda’s shower door turn. Glancing over her shoulder she was just in time to catch sight of Miranda coming out of her cubicle, wrapped in a towel. Her blond hair was dark from the shower, and her tanned skin appeared soft and steamy. Jodi noticed a long thin scar running down behind her shoulder blade, and quickly turned before she was caught staring, and stepped out of the locker room into the mid morning heat.

  Jodi strode through the grounds toward center court, trying to clear her mind and erase the image of Miranda coming out of the shower, but she kept returning to that scar. What could that be from? So thin, and white against the tan of her skin. Jodi thought again of the towel wrapped loos
ely around Miranda’s torso, catching the swell of her breasts briefly in her mind’s eye before she shook her head. Stop it, she told herself firmly. You need to get your libido under control, Richards. How long had it been since she’d been with someone? She realized she and Tara had barely slept together in the last year of their relationship, probably because Tara had been having an affair, Jodi thought.

  She flashed back to a night out with friends, just after they had split up. Her friends had wanted to go dancing and she had allowed herself to be dragged along. The lesbian club had been hot and dark and she had gotten tipsy quite quickly. In the darkness she moved to the music, enjoying the sensation of feeling free and numb. In the throng of moving bodies, she became aware that confident hands had found her hips and she turned to find a stranger’s face close to hers, their bodies pushed up against each other on the crowded dance floor. The woman’s boldness had seemed sexy as she pulled Jodi closer, their bodies moving together in time to the music. Her pulse had raced as the woman lightly kissed her, opening her mouth to let their tongues meet. They had danced like that for a while, kissing and touching in the darkness, until Jodi had allowed the woman to lead her out of the club. Jodi had felt like she was floating as she leaned her head back against the cool leather of the car seat, enjoying the rush of the warm night air through her open window as they drove the dark streets of San Francisco to the woman’s house.

  In the morning she had crept from the bed and let herself out of the house, onto a street she didn’t know. Her head was foggy and her mouth was dry, and a welcome light rain bathed her face, like tears, as she set off on foot to find a landmark she recognized.

  That had been almost a year ago now. They hadn’t exchanged names, let alone phone numbers or email addresses, and Jodi was glad they hadn’t. She didn’t need any complications right now—she needed to focus on her tennis. There was no time or space for romance in her busy training schedule, let alone the upcoming tournaments. She had a commitment to give her tennis dream one last shot. She owed it to Nan, and she owed it to herself. And she certainly wasn’t in the market for getting her heart broken again. Still, it was hard to completely ignore the undeniable throb inside her as the picture of Miranda exiting the shower came again, unbidden.

  The match had been underway for twenty minutes or so when Miranda slipped into the seat beside Jodi in the bleachers, where she sat next to Jason. Miranda’s hair was still damp and she smelled of the soap they had shared.

  “Got stuck talking to one of the coaches in the locker room,” Miranda said quietly, leaning forward to study the play. “Where are they up to?”

  “One game all, Kitchfield’s serve,” Jodi said.

  Miranda took out her notebook and began scribbling some quick notes as the play unfolded. Jodi settled back into her seat, feeling safely tucked away under her cap and sunglasses, between Miranda and Jason. The crowd had swelled since the beginning of the tournament. Both of these players were from out of town but the numbers here today were strong. Jodi looked forward to the finals when the crowds would be at their peak. People loved these tournaments and flocked to them from across the country. Between matches, there was live music on the lawns, great food stands, coffee and beer, fun competitions, and of course, nail-biting rounds of tennis to follow through the hot, sunny days.

  Jodi glanced at Miranda’s hand, resting on her notebook. She studied the neat fingernails and attractively slim, tanned fingers. No ring, she thought. And no ring tan line. So either she hasn’t been in a serious relationship for a while or, she thought, noting no other jewelry except a thin silver chain around her neck, she doesn’t like rings. She wondered which it was. Amused at her own curiosity, she turned her attention back to the game.

  Chapter Four

  Jason and Sally’s lounge room was like a home away from home for Jodi. She had spent many hours here in the past, curled up on the couch watching tennis replays with Jason, staying late to have dinner and drinks when Sally insisted. This afternoon Jason had pulled the curtains so they could get the best effect from the huge flat screen television, while they studied some of Kitchfield’s previous matches.

  “She’s definitely weak at the net. Look how she hugs the baseline.” Jason hit rewind so they could watch Kitchfield dive for the ball from the back of the court and miss, one more time.

  “See!” he crowed. “Seriously, if you can get in close to the net, you’ll totally freak her out.”

  “I see that.” Jodi sighed heavily. “I’m just not sure I’m much better at the net than she is. Now, does anyone want the last piece of vegetarian pizza?”

  “Nope, not me, I’m stuffed,” Miranda sighed, finishing off the last of her slice.

  “It’s all yours, Jodes.” Jason rubbed his hand over his stomach. “I am definitely done here too.” He took a swig of his beer and leaned back on the couch. “I still think we should work on those backhand drop shots. Just so you’ve got the option. You don’t have to use them if you don’t feel confident.”

  Jodi reached over to the coffee table and scooped up the last piece of pizza, sliding it onto her plate. She flipped closed the lids to the other boxes and stacked them neatly on the table. “Maybe. We should save these slices for Sal. She might be hungry when she gets back.”

  “She’s always hungry! And, she loves pepperoni pizza now. It’s so weird how her tastes have changed since she got pregnant. She used to hate pepperoni, but now she’s all over it!”

  “Who’s all over what?” came a voice from the hall.

  “Oh, honey, you’re home!” Jason shot up from the couch to help his wife with her bags. “Let me get those. I was just explaining to Miranda and Jodi how you’ve suddenly developed a taste for pepperoni pizza.”

  “Did somebody say pepperoni? Thank God! I’m starved.” Jason’s petite, brunette wife ducked out from under his arm and made a beeline for the pizza box.

  “Hi guys. Can’t talk. Must eat.” She opened the box and took a large bite of the pizza. She groaned appreciatively.

  “Hey, congratulations on your win yesterday, Jodi,” she said through her mouthful. “How are you feeling?”

  “How am I feeling? I feel great. More to the point, how are you feeling? Here, sit down, take a load off.” Jodi gestured to the couch.

  “Oh, no, if I sit on the couch I need a winch and a crane to get me back off it these days. I like these straightback chairs,” she said, dragging a kitchen chair up to the coffee table. “God knows what I’m going to be like in a couple of months. I can’t believe I’m this huge after only five months. What are you guys up to?” she asked, taking in the paused image on the television screen.

  “We’ve been watching some reruns of Selena Kitchfield’s matches. She won today’s semi and we’re analyzing her play for Jodi’s match on Saturday. Let me get you a drink, honey. Can I grab either of you guys something?” Jason called over his shoulder on his way into the kitchen.

  “I’m fine,” Miranda said as she got to her feet and stretched. “I should be heading home now anyway. I’ve got to feed my cat before he stages a rebellion and decides to go and live with my neighbor, permanently.” She grabbed the used plates and napkins and ferried them into the kitchen. “Do these go straight into the dishwasher?”

  “We’ll get them, Miranda, just leave them on the bench,” Jason said, clearing some space for the dirty plates. Jodi gathered up the pizza boxes. “Sorry to love you and leave you, Sal, I should hit the road too. I need an early night tonight after all the running around we’ve done today.”

  “Which direction are you headed, Jodi? Can I offer you a ride?” Miranda said, searching through her bag for her car keys.

  “Oh, I’m fine, I’m right downtown. I can easily get a cab.”

  “It’s no trouble for me to drive you. I pretty much go that way anyway.”

  “Well, if you don’t mind, that’d be great, thanks,” Jodi said.

  “Sorry, it’s a total mess in here,” Miranda swept what appeared t
o be a bundle of papers and some clothes from the passenger seat and threw them into the back. “Sometimes I feel like I live in my car! If it wasn’t for my cat I could easily forget that I have a house. Just toss your rackets in the back. The trunk’s full of training gear.”

  Jodi’s eyes widened as she took in the chaos that was Miranda’s car. “It looks like you’ve been robbed!” She shook her head and found a space for her rackets in the back, then gingerly slid into the passenger seat, primly holding her gym bag since there was nowhere else to put it. A spring stuck into her back and she heard what sounded like papers rustle under her feet as she moved to get more comfortable. “I hope I’m not stepping on something important down here,” she said.

  “Oh God, sorry.” Miranda started the engine, managing the seat belt with one hand and the window crank with the other. The night air was hot. “Don’t worry, it’s nothing important. Mostly just junk mail and magazines I never have time to read. I bring them with me in the car thinking I might get a moment over lunch or something, and inevitably I end up doing something else and they never get read.”

  Miranda headed in the general direction of downtown Sacramento. “I can’t believe it’s still this hot at eight thirty. We need some rain. Do you want air conditioning? I prefer the outside air but we can put it on if you’d prefer?”

  “This is good.” Jodi also wound down her window, enjoying the feel of the warm night air on her face.

  “So, where to?”

  “I’m at the Citizen, near the corner of 9th and J,” Jodi said.

  “I know it. Have you been there long?”

  Jodi tracked back in her head, mentally ticking off the time. “About eight months.”