Match Point Read online

  Miranda nodded and they fell awkwardly silent as she directed the car onto the freeway, joining the flow of traffic heading downtown. The air rushing into the car was loud but Jodi didn’t want to close her window.

  Miranda reached for the radio and pop music filled the car. “Is this okay?” she called above the music. “Want me to search for something else?”

  “This is great.” Jodi settled back into her seat, enjoying the music and the night sky. She didn’t feel like talking and she definitely didn’t feel like explaining herself. She knew it must seem strange to be living in a hotel but she didn’t care. She felt no burning need to tell her sordid story to this semi-stranger. They had a job to do together and she very much hoped they would manage to do it. That was all.

  Miranda glanced at Jodi, her hands resting lightly on her gym bag as they wound through the busy evening downtown streets. She thought she caught a glimpse of sadness cross Jodi’s face, but she couldn’t be sure. Miranda found herself wondering what would cause someone to live in a hotel for eight months, but she instinctively felt it was not her place to probe. Returning her focus to the road, she felt sure that personal questions would be a no-go zone with Jodi.

  Actually, she realized, she hardly knew anything about Jodi. The little she did know she’d heard through unreliable clubhouse gossip and the odd Wall Street Journal report that gave scant personal details. She didn’t even know why Jodi had quit tennis, or what had prompted her return for that matter. Why do I even want to know? she wondered. It’s not like it makes any difference to how we train now. She knew it wasn’t because of an injury or anything that needed to be factored into training because Jason would have filled her in. At the end of the day, she supposed, it wasn’t really any of her business. It’s not like she knows anything about me either, she thought. So I guess we’re even.

  Pulling up outside the hotel, Miranda peered at the tall building, admiring its modern architecture and bright colors.

  “Looks like a nice place. Which floor are you on?”

  “Twelfth. I’m right at the top,” Jodi said.

  “Cool, you must get a great view of the city.”

  “I do, it’s especially beautiful at night with all the lights. I like looking down on the city. It’s like I get to be a part of all the hustle and bustle without having to get my feet dirty.” Jodi’s eyes softened as she spoke. She roused herself and got out of the car, reaching into the backseat to pull out her bags.

  “Where are you headed now?”

  “My place is about twenty minutes from here, down by Stone Lake. I’ve also got a view. If you lean your head right out the bedroom window you can just see the edge of the lake.”

  “People pay good money for that kind of a view.” Jodi’s mouth hinted at a smile.

  “Yes, and I’m one of them. The property tax is astronomical out there! You’ll have to come see it some time.”

  Jodi shut the back door and patted the top of the car. “Yeah, maybe. Well, thanks for the ride. I really appreciate it.” Her tone was noncommittal, her face suddenly closed.

  Miranda shrugged. “Sure, no problem. See you bright and early tomorrow.”

  “See you then.” And Jodi was gone.

  Miranda watched the toned, athletic figure walk through the entrance of the hotel, before she pulled away, settling back into her seat for the drive home. She didn’t really understand Jodi. One minute she seemed welcoming and friendly, and the next she shut down, as if a curtain had dropped behind those almond-shaped eyes. Something about Jodi made her feel edgy and awkward, like a teenager who didn’t know what to do with her hands. Jodi’s poise and control unnerved Miranda. Why had she invited her to check out her ridiculous, nonexistent view? She grimaced. You’re not supposed to do that kind of thing, Miranda, she chastised herself. Now she’ll think you’re some kind of stalker fan instead of a serious assistant coach. Well, she would just have to clamp down on her friendly gene from now on and show Jodi she was all business.

  Recalling Jodi’s cool, determined face across the tennis court that morning strengthened her resolve. She’d need to be at the top of her game to keep up with Jodi and provide her with the training partner she needed. It had been years since she’d played any serious competitive tennis and she knew Jodi would expect her to work hard. Miranda was thankful she had taken the time over the years to maintain the skills she had learned as a junior. If Jodi was going to make it to the US Open, they would need to work as a team and that left no room for embarrassing mistakes. And if Jodi wasn’t interested in friendly overtures that was just fine. Switching on her Bluetooth, she punched Enid’s number on the speed dial, and settled in for a good long chat.

  The following morning, Jason jogged across the court to Miranda and Jodi, who were deciding on the morning’s hitting routine. He waved his phone triumphantly in the air. “Guess who I just got off the phone with?”

  Jodi’s eyebrows rose. “I’ve got no idea. The ice cream shop? Did they give you a lifetime supply of chocolate? You definitely look happy. Doesn’t he look happy, Miranda?”

  “That he does.” Miranda nodded.

  Jason smirked. “I do like chocolate ice cream. But strangely, no, that’s not it. It’s DuPont, Jodes. They’re back on board. I was going to ring them after we saw how you fared in this tournament and convince them to sign you back on for sponsorship, but they just rang me. They want in now!” He punched his fist in the air with his last words.

  “Wow! That is good news.” Jodi’s eyes were wide. “I mean, it’s no lifetime supply of chocolate ice cream, but it does mean I can afford to buy you both at least one chocolate ice cream later.” Her eyes twinkled. “Do you like chocolate ice cream, Miranda?”

  “Who doesn’t?” Miranda grinned, buoyed by Jodi’s good mood. Jodi’s teasing smile lit up her face in a way Miranda had not seen before, lightening the serious eyes and smoothing the often furrowed brow. Enid’s right, Miranda thought, noting the pink of Jodi’s mouth and the swing of her long dark hair, which hung loosely about her shoulders this morning. She is hot.

  “Seriously though, that’s brilliant, Jase. Thank you so much.” Jodi wrapped an arm around his waist and squeezed.

  “Hey, I didn’t really do anything.” Jason hugged her close. “They rang me! It’s happening, Jodes. We’re going to pull this one off. So, what have you decided for this morning? We don’t want you to go too hard today or you’ll be tired for tomorrow’s final.”

  “I want to do a bit more on my serve, and then I think maybe we’ll give a try to some of those backhand shots you guys have been pushing for. Ready for a hit, Miranda?” Jodi twisted her hair up into a ponytail as she set up on the baseline.

  “Sure am.” Miranda ducked around the net to get into position on the opposite side of the court. “Serves first?” she called.

  “Let’s do serves with rallies,” Jason directed, lining up beside Jodi on the baseline. “That way we can kill two birds with one stone. Jodi, I want you to try to push Miranda to the back of the court and then move forward to place the ball right at the front of the court. It’ll take some pulling off but if you can manage it, you might just have a new signature move!”

  They spent the next two hours driving the ball back and forth across the court. Miranda, stretched to the limit, repeatedly threw herself across the court to dive for Jodi’s drop shots, trying to keep up with the tennis pro. Just when she thought she would have to call it a day or literally drop from exhaustion, Jason waved her over. “I think that’s enough for now, we don’t want to overdo it.”

  Miranda marveled at Jodi, who had barely broken a sweat. Only the slight sheen of moisture around her hairline revealed her exertion in the heat. Miranda didn’t need a mirror to know she was red and sweaty.

  “Good call, Jase. Much longer and you would have needed to call an ambulance for me,” Miranda joked. “Time for a shower. My shout on the soap this time, Jodi.”

  “Oh, I, um…” Jodi stammered as she packed up her
rackets and gym bag. “Thanks, but I think I’ll just go straight home and grab a shower there.”

  “Yeah, right, of course.” Miranda felt strangely stung. “Well, if neither of you need anything else from me now, I’ll go get cleaned up.”

  “I think we’re done here for today.” Jason clapped Miranda on the back. “Nice work. See you back here tomorrow morning. We’ll meet in the center court locker rooms at ten.”

  “Thanks again.” Jodi glanced at Miranda and gathered up her belongings. Her eyes held an odd look that Miranda couldn’t read, but for a moment she thought it was embarrassment.

  * * *

  Jodi cursed herself as she slid into the back of the cab and gave the driver her address. She was hot and uncomfortable and everything stuck to her in all the wrong places. What she needed most in the world was a long, soapy shower but she hadn’t wanted to go with Miranda. Actually, she had wanted to go with Miranda but felt awkward and embarrassed, remembering the sight of Miranda in the shower room wrapped in a towel. The last thing she wanted was Miranda to catch her ogling her like some kind of lecherous lesbian. And the last thing she needed was that kind of distraction.

  I’m being ridiculous, she thought, as the cab weaved its way through light afternoon traffic. We shower together; that’s what sports people do. It’s not like we have to shower in the same cubicle. Jodi flushed at the thought of Miranda without her towel. Oh please, get a grip, she told herself sternly. Tomorrow is the most important day you’ve had in approximately five years and you’re going to blow it by losing focus to some kind of hormonal rush. Miranda seemed sweet and was clearly attractive, but Jodi had no desire to reach out and include anyone new in her life right now.

  After Tara, and all the mistakes she had made, she felt done with relationships. She didn’t know if it was even possible for her to have a relationship and play the kind of tennis she wanted to play, and right now she wasn’t willing to gamble and find out. She certainly didn’t want to complicate things by lusting after her assistant coach. No, she needed to concentrate and that was that.

  As the cab sped past familiar streets, Jodi reflected on her life. She had her sister, an excellent coach, a small handful of close friends, and was on the verge of resurrecting her promising tennis career. Essentially, her plate was full. There was no room for Miranda on any level other than training partner.

  As the cab pulled up to the hotel, she pushed all thoughts of Miranda from her head. She needed a shower, food and sleep. And she needed to win tomorrow.

  Chapter Five

  The ominously dark clouds overhead provided thankful shade. The air was close and heavy with unshed rain, and Jodi mopped her forehead with her wristband. She really needed the rain to hold off. Halfway through the second set, they were neck and neck. What she needed now was to break Kitchfield’s serve in this set before the storm broke. She had smashed out the first set, upsetting Kitchfield early on with a few nicely placed net shots that had left her opponent guessing, just as Miranda and Jason had predicted, and now she was fighting with all she had to claim the match. This can be mine, Jodi chanted in her head. This can be mine.

  “Fifteen–forty,” the umpire called.

  So this was it. If she could break Kitchfield’s service now, the tournament was surely hers.

  Kitchfield stretched high and smacked the ball across the court toward Jodi. Jodi stepped forward, controlling her return to send Kitchfield to the back of the court. They struck the ball back and forth, Jodi keeping Kitchfield at the back of the court as she gradually edged forward. All of a sudden she saw her chance and scooped the ball up, dropping it lightly over the net to land just out of reach of Kitchfield’s desperate racket.

  “Game: Richards. Richards leads five games to four.”

  Elated, Jodi looked up into her player’s box, seeking out Jason and Miranda. They both wore grins the size of Kansas and were giving her the thumbs-up. She had broken service. Now was her chance. She put her head down, reveling in the sounds of the crowd cheering her on as she crossed the court and lined herself up to serve.

  Right foot forward, toss the ball, left leg lift, and down. Jodi put all her weight behind the ball and sent it flying into the corner of Kitchfield’s service box. Kitchfield flung her racket wildly at the ball and they both watched it spin off over the baseline.

  “Out,” the umpire called dispassionately. “Fifteen–love.”

  Kitchfield smacked her racket with the palm of her hand, giving a grunt of frustration.

  This is it now, Jodi coached herself. Easy does it, kid. She lined herself up on the baseline again, wiped her palms on her shorts, and gently blew on them to cool them off. Taking a deep breath, she squared her shoulders and cleared her mind. In a flash, she drove the ball straight down the line. It bounced past Kitchfield’s racket to land with a thump against the stands and the excited crowd roared as one.

  “Thirty–love.”

  Thunder rumbled across the sky.

  Jodi rolled her shoulders, easing the tension out of her muscles and sent another ball flying across the court. They rallied hard, sending each other around the court until Jodi sealed the point with an impossible-to-return backhand slice.

  “Forty–love.”

  Jodi couldn’t look up. She heard the crowd as if she were in a tunnel—the clapping, cheering and whistling sounding far away. There was another roll of thunder, closer this time. She looked hard at the ball in her hand, smoothing her thumb over the soft yellow hair, holding it loosely. The world seemed to slow down around her and she relaxed, feeling the first tiny spits of rain prickle against her skin.

  Jodi tossed the ball up and gave it everything she had, slamming into the serve with power and determination. Kitchfield shook her head in despair as the ball spun through the service box and barreled past her.

  “Game, set, match: Richards.”

  “Yes!” Jodi shouted. She looked up into the crowd, reveling in the wild cheering, and fought back tears. She sent up a silent thank you to Nan as the heavens broke open and the rain began to fall.

  * * *

  The Gold River Racquet Club sure knew how to put on an after-party. The place was thick with waitstaff ferrying heavy plates of food and drink through the dense, rowdy crowd. Pop music blared from an entertainment system set up at the back of the room and groups of people were dancing. Jodi flagged down the waitress as she sailed past and filled her plate with choice, mouth-watering delicacies. She popped one straight into her mouth.

  “Oh, heaven,” she mumbled to Jason. “There’s nothing like a tiny piece of cheese and pastry when you’re exhausted and starving. I think I’ll need about five hundred of these to feel full but thankfully they seem well stocked. So what’s happened to your sidekick, Miranda?”

  “She’s over there talking with Gabriela Benitez, Sanchez’s new coach.” Jason nodded across the room and Jodi followed his gaze, spotting Miranda in what appeared to be a fairly intimate conversation with the Hispanic beauty.

  “They look like they know each other pretty well.”

  “I think they’re friends. From what I remember, Gabriela and Miranda used to play for the same club when they were juniors.”

  “Really? I didn’t know Miranda played juniors. As in pro juniors?”

  “Yep, not for long though. She would have been good, too, but she had some illness and couldn’t pursue it.”

  “We might have been in the juniors at the same time then,” Jodi said, wracking her brain to see if she could remember a young Miranda on the circuit from her junior days.

  “Maybe, but I think she was a year or so behind you. You were probably on the national circuit by then.”

  Jodi shrugged. She wondered if Miranda had wanted to go pro. Would she be bitter about an opportunity lost? She certainly hadn’t shown any signs of that in the short time they’d known each other. Jodi watched Gabriela lean in toward Miranda, touching her arm as she said something clearly for Miranda’s ears only. Miranda laughed and her
eyes opened wide as her eyebrows shot up. “If I didn’t know better I’d say those two are more than just good friends,” Jodi said.

  Jason took in the pair. “Nah, I don’t think so. Miranda wouldn’t know ‘more than just good friends’ if it hit her over the head at the moment.”

  “But so, she is, er…” Jodi looked away, suddenly awkward with their conversation. “She’s gay?”

  “As the driven snow. Just my luck. I decide to become a women’s tennis coach and end up surrounded by lesbians.”

  “Hey!” Jodi punched him lightly on the arm, glad he had lightened the mood with a joke. “Watch yourself, coach man. You’re just lucky Sal decided she was straight. I’ve always had my doubts about her,” she teased.

  “Me too,” he sighed happily. “I still can’t believe she said yes to me. And now we’re having a baby. I’m going to be a father, Jodi. A fully grown, hairy, manly, muscly father.”

  “Well, hairy, yes. I’m not sure you fall in to the muscly or manly category.”

  “Watch it, Richards! I can still take you down,” Jason said, lightly bumping her shoulder.

  “A fly could probably take me down. I’ve got no wrestling instincts.”

  “Well, aren’t we just lucky you chose to be a tennis player and not a wrestler then?”

  Jodi’s gaze wandered back toward Miranda. She frowned slightly as she watched Miranda lean over and take an olive from Gabriela’s plate. “I guess Sanchez would be pretty bummed right now. She didn’t even make the semis.”

  “Not as bummed as Kitchfield. She would have won the whole tournament if it wasn’t for you.”

  “Well, you can’t win ’em all,” Jodi replied brightly, elbowing him playfully in the ribs. “I think I’m ready to get out of here now.”

  “What? You’ve only been here for twenty minutes. You can’t leave yet. All these people are here to eyeball you, to rub shoulders with America’s rising star of tennis!”

  Jodi pulled a face. “You don’t think you’re overselling things a bit?”