Match Point Page 8

  “Can I drop you home? It might be hard to get a cab at this time of night.”

  Jodi didn’t particularly want to ride with Lisa. She just wanted to be alone, but Lisa was right, it was going to be a pain to get a cab.

  Lisa had chatted easily during the short ride, occasionally brushing her hand against Jodi’s as she changed gears, handling her showy sports car with ease. At the entrance to Jodi’s hotel, Lisa had again taken her hand, looking into Jodi’s eyes with heat and intention.

  “It’s been great being with you tonight, Jodi. Let’s get together again soon, okay? I’ll look forward to your call.”

  As Lisa leaned in and brushed her lips lightly against Jodi’s, Jodi felt a moment of panic. Lisa’s lips were soft and she again caught the hint of expensive frangipani scent.

  “Ye…yes, I’ll call you from Carson,” Jodi stammered, backing out of the car. “Thanks for the, um, ride.”

  Jodi shot through the revolving lobby door and into the elevator as fast as she could.

  Thankfully alone in the elevator she spoke sternly to herself, glowering at herself in the mirror. “What’s wrong with you Richards? I’ll call you from Carson?” Jodi shook her head and grimaced at herself. Lisa would think she was looking for a relationship at this rate and yes, Lisa was unquestionably good looking, but that didn’t mean Jodi automatically wanted to jump into bed with her. In the past this would have been a kind of fun little dalliance, but her focus had shifted now. Her priorities were clear: train, play tennis, win.

  The elevator door slid open and Jodi made her way down the quiet hallway with the tastefully dim lighting. She wasn’t sure it was a good idea to jump into bed with anyone at the moment. Lisa made a tempting prospect, but there was no real spark between them.

  Opening her door, Jodi tossed her bag on the couch and sank down next to it, leaning her head back as she put up her feet on the coffee table. Back in the day she wouldn’t have thought twice about enjoying a casual encounter with someone like Lisa, but that had all changed since Tara, and she felt suddenly more protective of herself, like she wanted to be more careful with whom she let come close to her. Unbidden, the image of Miranda coming out of the shower in her towel flashed before her and Jodi felt a jolt in her stomach. “Oh God,” she said to herself wearily, getting up from the couch and rubbing her hand across her eyes. “I am not going to be that person.”

  She went to her bedroom. Stepping out of her jeans, she flopped onto the bed, kicked off her shoes, and pulled up the covers around her. I am not going to be the player with a crush on her coach, she told herself firmly as she pushed her head into the pillow, wriggling into a more comfortable position. I am not going to be that person.

  The plane jerked as it hit a patch of turbulence, shaking Jodi out of her reverie and causing her drink to slosh over the edge of her cup.

  “Damn,” she cursed, mopping it up with her tiny napkin.

  Miranda took off her headphones, and watched Jodi try in vain to soak up the liquid on her tray table.

  “Here, have mine,” Miranda offered. “I don’t know why they bother to give out these little tissue things. You’d need a ton of them to actually clean anything up!”

  “Thanks.” Jodi took the proffered napkin, adding it to hers as she swished it around, trying to absorb the spill.

  Miranda reached up and pressed the bell to summon the air hostess. “Enid says you should press the buzzer as often as possible when you’re on a flight. You pay so much for the tickets you’ve got to get added value wherever you can,” she said, grinning cheekily.

  “How long have you known Enid?” Jodi asked, hoping she sounded casual.

  “Fourteen years. We met in the cafeteria in junior high. She had rice pudding and I had yogurt and neither of us liked what we had, so we swapped. It was love at first bite, so to speak.”

  “What can I get you folks?” the hostess asked, reaching up to switch off the call light above their heads.

  “Could I grab some more napkins please?” Jodi replied, holding the sodden tissues up as evidence. “I’ve had a bit of a spill.”

  “Sure thing, hon. Back in a sec.” The air hostess swung back down the aisle toward the galley.

  Jodi absentmindedly traced her finger around the edge of the spilled drink. “It’s great to have someone in your life that’s known you for so long.”

  “Oh yes, definitely.” Miranda nodded emphatically. “Enid just totally gets me, and I get her. I don’t have to explain myself and there’s never any crap. What you see is what you get and it’s always completely and utterly honest. I appreciate that so much.”

  “That’s lucky. I feel that way with my sister. Ally’s always been a total rock for me. I just hope she feels the same way about me!” Jodi laughed, wincing slightly. “I know I can be hard work some times.”

  “I guess we all can,” Miranda reassured her.

  “Definitely.” Jodi nodded. “But Ally’s always stood by me, you know? We were really close growing up, and it was just us and our Nan most of the time so we pretty much did everything together. When I lived in San Francisco it was the farthest we’ve ever been apart.”

  “I love San Fran,” Miranda enthused. “How long were you there?”

  A tightness gripped Jodi’s stomach as she thought of Tara and the townhouse on the bay. Suddenly she didn’t feel like talking anymore.

  “Five years,” she said briskly, saved from having to reveal more by the approach of the air hostess. She handed Jodi a thick wad of napkins and a fresh drink.

  “Here you go, hon.” She winked at Jodi, gathering up the sodden napkins and dropping them in her trash bag. “Now, if you need anything else, anything at all, you just call me, okay hon? My number’s written on the back of one of those napkins.” She winked again and sailed off down the aisle.

  Jodi shook her head, laughing awkwardly at Miranda’s raised eyebrows.

  “What can I say? I’m a heartbreaker.”

  Miranda smiled, her blue eyes unusually serious. “Good to know.”

  * * *

  The heat in Carson was intense. The back of the taxi was stuffy, the vinyl seats burning to the touch.

  Jodi buzzed down her window, seeking relief from the swampy heat. “Jase said he’ll meet us at the hotel later this afternoon.”

  “Okay. What will you do between now and then?” Miranda asked, checking her watch. It was still early; their mid morning flight had landed them in Los Angeles before lunchtime. Miranda shifted uncomfortably in her seat; her clothes were already beginning to stick to her body.

  “I don’t know. Check in, have a shower, find some food. The draw hasn’t been announced yet but I need to assume I’m playing tomorrow, so I want to take it easy this morning. We’ll go over to the tennis center this afternoon with Jase and get in some practice before dinner.”

  “Would you like me to grab you some lunch? I’m happy to go for a bit of a wander. I’m sure it won’t be too hard to find some kind of deli near the hotel.”

  “Actually, that would be great.” Jodi smiled gratefully. “I hate having to search around town for food in this kind of heat, and the hotel food doesn’t usually stretch to my dietary requirements. I mostly eat vegetarian, with a little fish for extra protein, but it can be pretty hard to find good quality takeout when you’re on tour.”

  “No problem, you just let me know what you’d like and I’ll find it. I was actually thinking I might try to find a grocery store and stock up on some supplies. If you want to give me a list, I’d be happy to grab some provisions for you.”

  “Oh would you?” Jodi looked relieved. “You’re a lifesaver.”

  At the hotel, they peeled themselves out of the back of the taxi, grateful for the bellhop who immediately took care of their luggage. An arctic blast of air-conditioning greeted them in the hotel lobby and Miranda actually shivered.

  “I never get used to this, even living in a hotel,” Jodi said. “They like to keep the lobby freezing cold for some re
ason. The fancier the hotel, the colder the lobby.”

  “Well, this must be a five-star joint because I’m starting to wish I’d brought my jacket.” Miranda hugged herself, rubbing her arms to stay warm.

  They were greeted warmly by the desk clerk, who quickly organized their room keys, and welcomed them to the hotel. They piled into the elevator alongside a young bellhop who struggled to maneuver the unwieldy luggage trolley.

  “Which floor ladies?” he asked, fingers hovering over the button panel.

  “We’re both on the ninth floor,” Jodi replied, checking their key packets for room numbers. “Rooms 912 and 914,” she said, showing the keys to the bellhop.

  He nodded and Miranda felt her stomach lurch as the elevator suddenly began its rush upward.

  “Staying long?” the bellhop asked, looking over their luggage curiously.

  “Just a few days,” Jodi replied, giving nothing away.

  “We’re over for the Carson Classic,” Miranda told him, patting one of their racket bags. “Don’t worry, they’re tennis rackets, not machine guns,” she said. The bellhop grinned and gave the trolley a hefty shove as the doors slid silently open.

  “You’re playing in the tournament?” he asked.

  “Jodi is.” Miranda looked encouragingly at Jodi, surprised to see her give a small shake of her head, a warning frown darkening her brow. “Uh, anyways,” Miranda went on, trying to change the subject, aware of a sinking feeling in her stomach, “I don’t suppose you could tell me where the nearest grocery store is? I’d like to pick up some healthy snacks and stuff.”

  “Sure,” he said, pulling up outside Room 912. “If you come down to the desk on your way out, I’ll draw you directions on the hotel map. There’s a great little organic store nearby. They even do takeout meals.”

  “Perfect,” Miranda said, helping him unload Jodi’s bags in the hallway. She realized her room was right next door to Jodi’s.

  “Oh, this is both of us,” Miranda said in surprise. “Here, I’ll get my bags too.”

  Between them they gave the bellhop a tip and when their bags were unloaded they watched him push the trolley away.

  “Sorry,” Miranda said abruptly, “was it wrong to tell him you’re in the tournament?”

  Jodi shrugged, hefting her gym bag onto her shoulder. “I just don’t like people knowing my business. I get enough of the inquisition from reporters and fans, without adding waiters and bellhops into the mix.”

  “Oh, of course, I didn’t think of that.” Feeling like an idiot, Miranda gathered up her racket and wheelie suitcase. “I’ll be more careful next time. Um, so just buzz me when you know what you want me to pick up from that grocery store. I think I’ll head out in about half an hour.”

  Jodi thanked her again and let herself in to her room.

  Miranda bounced on her hotel bed and gave a little laugh. The room was fancy, adorned with thick dark carpet and tasteful wooden furniture. Having rarely had occasion to stay in hotels, Miranda felt decadent in the luxury of the four-star room. The enormous king-sized bed took up most of the room, made up with crisp, gleaming white sheets and a plethora of plump white pillows. Miranda’s cell phone broke out into the opening bars of “Footloose” and she let it play for a moment before accepting the call.

  “Hi Mom,” she said, flopping happily back against the pile of pillows. “If I sound different, it’s because I’m living the dream.”

  * * *

  A few hours later Miranda stood outside Jodi’s room, grocery bags under one arm, knocking on her door.

  “Delivery,” she called, her voice loud in the quiet corridor.

  After a short pause, she heard soft footsteps to the door. Jodi’s chestnut hair was rumpled and loose around her face, the telltale lines of sleep creased on her cheeks. She looked delicate, more vulnerable than Miranda had seen her before, standing at the door in just an oversized T-shirt, which hung to her thighs. Catching the line of Jodi’s breasts under the thin shirt, Miranda looked away quickly, her pulse quickening.

  “Sorry, did I wake you?”

  “No, no, it’s good. I needed to get up now anyway. Here, come in. I was just having a bit of a recharge sleep.”

  Miranda followed Jodi into the room, noting a few subtle differences between their respective accommodations. “Where do you want these?”

  Jodi pulled on a sweater and took the large brown sacks over to the bar fridge. “Most of it probably needs to go in here, right?” She dumped the bags on top of the fridge. “I’ll sort them out in a minute. Thanks so much for getting these for me. How did it go? Did you find the store okay?”

  “Yeah, it was easy. That nice bellhop guy gave me directions and it’s actually really close by. They’ve got a super cool sushi bar too. If we get time we should stop in there and grab some sushi before we leave.”

  “Definitely, I love sushi.”

  Jodi’s phone buzzed from the bedside table. Scooping it up, she glanced at the caller ID.

  “I should take this. Hang on a minute.”

  Miranda leaned back against the writing desk as Jodi cradled the telephone under her ear.

  “Lisa, hey,” Jodi said warmly into the phone. “I’m just organizing some food. Can you hold on a tick?” She placed her hand over the mouthpiece. “Is it okay if I fix you up for these groceries later?” she asked Miranda.

  “Of course,” Miranda replied. “No rush.”

  “Great, well, Jase said he’d meet us down in the lobby at two thirty p.m.”

  “Right.” Miranda realized she was being dismissed and took her cue. She headed for the door. “I’ll see you down there,” Miranda said, and let herself out.

  Miranda flicked aimlessly through the hotel guide, barely taking in the glossy advertisements for nearby restaurants and attractions. She wasn’t entirely sure what to do with herself. There wasn’t time to go back out and do any sightseeing before she was due to meet up with Jodi and Jason, but she felt restless sitting by herself in her room. The luxury she had reveled in earlier seemed impersonal and cold. She was vaguely disappointed to not have stayed longer with Jodi when she had dropped off the groceries. Somehow she had imagined they would eat together, perhaps have a chat about the tournament to come, and amble down to meet up with Jason. She hadn’t expected to spend so much time on her own. It’s just the beginning of the trip, Miranda, she scolded herself. You should be glad of some downtime. She realized once the tournament began she would be lucky to get a moment to herself.

  Maybe she would have a lie-down—she had promised her mom she would get plenty of rest. Ever since the cancer her mom had worried about her health. Was Miranda getting enough rest? Was she keeping up her nutrition? Had she lost any weight recently? No matter how much Miranda tried to reassure her mom, she knew the fear was always there. In reality Miranda was a picture of health. Her physical fitness was the best it had ever been and she was on top of her game. Her six-month checkups with the oncologist had been bumped to annual visits a few years ago, and all tests had remained clear since the initial diagnosis twelve years ago, but her mom continued to worry, and the last thing Miranda wanted to do was to cause her mom any pain.

  I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to rest for half an hour. Miranda had had an anxious night’s sleep the night before, nervous in case her alarm didn’t go off in time for the morning’s early flight. She knew it was ridiculous—her alarm had certainly never failed her before—but she had rarely been on a plane and she tossed and turned for most of the night, intermittently dreaming she had missed the flight or lost her luggage. Yes, a lie-down wouldn’t hurt right now. It might be the only chance she’d get for the rest of the week.

  Chapter Seven

  Miranda fanned herself with the Carson Classic program, grateful for her cap and sunglasses against the relentless heat. She winced as Jodi sent a wide forehand crashing across the court.

  “Out,” the umpire called. “Advantage: Reiner.”

  The next few moments were nail-bitin
gly tense as Jodi and her opponent battled for control of the game; Jodi tried to break Reiner’s serve while Reiner fought on to defend it. Miranda almost couldn’t watch as Jodi won the point and then just as easily lost it again, making awkward mistakes and missing shots that should have been simple for her. Miranda leaned forward in her seat, willing Jodi to pull it together.

  “C’mon, Jodi,” she heard Jason mutter. “You can do this, champ.”

  Reiner appeared to be tiring Jodi out. Each woman had chased the other around the court for an hour and a half in a struggle to dominate the game. Jodi had barely managed to take control of the first set but hadn’t been able to hang on to her advantage in the second. Now, in the third set, Jodi desperately needed to break Reiner’s serve if she was going keep victory within her grasp.

  Slicing the ball viciously past her opponent, Jodi pumped her fist in the air.

  “Advantage: Richards.”

  Reiner pummeled the ball across the court, attempting an ace, which Jodi, face pulled tight with determination, returned. Miranda edged forward and gripped the rail in front of her as Jodi and Reiner rallied, sending each other all over the court. The crowd gasped with collective horror as Reiner lunged for the ball and tripped, sliding painfully across the court.

  “Game: Richards.”

  Applause was restrained. The crowd clearly felt sorry for Reiner, who dusted herself off at her bench, gingerly testing her knee for injury.

  Jodi rubbed her face with a towel and took a short sip of her drink. Miranda’s stomach churned as she noted Jodi’s tense, high shoulders and the grim set of her mouth. Miranda wished she could go out there and give Jodi a quick hug to let her know it would all be okay. She looked so painfully vulnerable. Miranda watched the lone figure at the bench, putting herself through some last-minute stretching. It took a lot of courage, Miranda mused, considering how long Jodi had been away from the courts. She wondered, not for the first time, why Jodi had left tennis behind. Jodi had claimed to the press that she left for love, but Miranda was fairly sure that whoever had captured Jodi’s heart back then was no longer around. She would surely otherwise not have been on a date with Lisa Sevonny.