Match Point Read online

  “Time,” the umpire announced, sending the players back to the court.

  Jason nudged Miranda. “She’s going to smash it now,” he said. “Watch.”

  The palpable tension in the arena hushed the crowd. Miranda’s stomach clenched as Jodi sent an ace flying across the court.

  “Fifteen–love.”

  As Jodi crossed to the other side of the court for her next serve, Miranda was suddenly struck by her intense beauty. Her strong, dark features revealed steadfast resolve, and her perfectly toned muscles seemed sculpted under her tanned, shining skin. She looks like a Greek goddess, Miranda thought as an electric jolt of desire ran through her. As Jodi served again, Miranda pulled her attention back to the game. She held her breath as Reiner drove a furious return straight at Jodi’s body, forcing her to change position quickly for an awkward return. “Hang on, Jodi,” Miranda whispered, “just hang on.”

  As Jodi and Reiner fought on, both players showed clear signs of exhaustion.

  “Advantage: Richards,” the umpire called. “Match point.”

  Miranda’s heart was in her throat as she watched Jodi stoically prepare herself at the baseline.

  With a grunt, Jodi sent the ball barreling across the court, just touching the net as it dropped over.

  “Let,” the umpire announced.

  Jodi shook her head, obviously frustrated with herself. Summoning up her last dregs of energy, she served a deep, powerful shot. Reiner clipped the ball with the edge of her racket and sent it wildly out of the court.

  “Game, set, match: Richards,” the umpire called.

  Relieved, Miranda cheered and clapped with the crowd as Jodi shook hands with her opponent and crossed to her bench. It had been painful to watch Jodi in such a state. Miranda, emotionally drained, sank back into her seat.

  “Well, she’s not going to be too happy with that one,” Jason said grimly.

  “Yeah, she definitely lost it a bit there,” Miranda agreed. “What do you think happened?”

  “I don’t know.” He shook his head. “I imagine she’ll tell us when this all calms down. Brace yourself for a rough ride tonight. She’ll be tough on herself for all those mistakes.”

  * * *

  The mood in the locker room was subdued. “Hey Richards, don’t be so hard on yourself,” Jason said. “You got there in the end.”

  Pale and drawn, Jodi leaned back against metal lockers with a blank stare. “I won it, yes, but I could just as easily have lost it. I was all over the place.”

  Jodi’s insecurity made Miranda’s heart ache. All the fierce determination from the court was gone and she looked fragile and small. Her eyes were red and Miranda suspected she had been crying. A small vein throbbed at her temple and Miranda fought the urge to reach out her hand and smooth it away, wishing for a second that she could give Jodi a hug and tell her everything would be okay. But they weren’t exactly on hugging terms.

  “I was a mess. I don’t know if I can do this, guys,” Jodi said in a small voice.

  “But you did do it,” Miranda interjected. “You didn’t lose. You won, and now you get to let it go. You can move on from this match and focus on making your next one brilliant.” She hoped she wouldn’t get bawled out for speaking her mind.

  “Yeah, Jodes,” Jason said. “We’ll go over the play and work out what went wrong for you, but there’s no point getting hung up on it. Miranda’s right. Tomorrow’s a new day. We need to keep looking forward.”

  Jodi’s eyes moved tiredly between Jason and Miranda. “Okay,” she said finally, with a long, tired sigh. “Help me off this bench and into some kind of enormous hot tub and I’ll try to forget that I’m really just an insecure blubbering mess pretending to be a tennis champion. If you get me into a bath, I’ll get us into the finals.”

  “Atta girl!” Jason slipped his arm around her and guided her up off the bench. “There’s a car waiting for us outside. We’ll run you a nice big bath as soon as we’re back at the hotel. We can even do bubbles. Miranda, grab her rackets,” Jason called over his shoulder as he maneuvered Jodi out of the locker room.

  Miranda carefully gathered up the rackets and bags and followed. She wished she could do more to comfort Jodi.

  Back at the hotel, after securing dinner arrangements, Miranda went with Jodi to her room to deposit the rackets.

  “Want me to get the bath started for you?” Miranda asked as she set Jodi’s rackets in the closet.

  “Oh, that would be heavenly. Thank you.” Jodi sank back on the bed, flinging her arm across her eyes.

  “Bubbles?” Miranda asked.

  “Yes, please,” Jodi answered with a sigh.

  Miranda paused in the doorway of the bathroom, admiring the toned, sun-kissed muscles of Jodi’s forearm and long, tanned legs. She wondered what it would be like to run her hand across the soft skin of her flat abdomen. With a sudden shiver Miranda turned away, ducking into the bathroom. I don’t know what’s got in to me today, Miranda scolded herself as she bent over the deep hotel bath and turned on the faucet. She suddenly felt vulnerable and exposed, wishing she was back in her own room with her confused feelings. Could Enid be right? Did she have a crush on Jodi? Recalling the last few weeks of training, Miranda realized that she hadn’t experienced this kind of emotional intensity since she was a teenager cutting her teeth on the junior circuit.

  Miranda tested the water temperature. Winning and losing—almost winning and almost losing—could take people to the craziest heights and the darkest depths. Miranda realized she needed to find her equilibrium again. She had allowed herself to be thrown off-balance by all the ups and downs over the last few weeks, but Enid was wrong; there was no crush.

  What she needed now was to get back to her room, make herself a cup of coffee, and relax. Later she could phone Enid to debrief. Despite the teasing, she knew Enid had her best interests at heart and would always be there for her. The unquestioning support they gave each other was one of the greatest gifts of their friendship and Miranda was grateful. Maybe that’s why Enid and I struggle to commit to relationships, she thought, absentmindedly swirling her hand in the bubbles. Neither of us really needs a partner when we have each other. She resolved to talk to Enid about it, and to encourage her to try harder in the love department. They had both gotten a bit too complacent when it came to love.

  Over the sound of the running water, Miranda heard Jodi’s phone in the other room.

  “Lisa, hey,” Jodi said. “Yeah, it was a tough one.”

  Not eager to eavesdrop, Miranda quietly closed the door and assessed the water temperature again. Lisa. She scooped up a handful of bubbles and blew on them, watching as they scattered back into the tub. Had they been together long? She really knew very little about Jodi’s personal life. She knew about the sister, and Jodi had mentioned growing up with a grandmother, but that was it. Oh yeah, and she lives in a hotel. Why would someone live in a hotel? She wished Jodi would open up to her a bit more, but Jodi was strictly business, showing up at the courts exactly on time and whisking away directly afterward. Probably off to see Lisa, she thought and then gave herself a little shake. I almost sound jealous!

  As the bathtub neared full, Miranda turned off the faucet and opened the bathroom door.

  “I, uh, I miss you too,” she overheard Jodi say. Jodi looked up, startled, blushing deeply under her tan.

  “Bath’s ready. See you later downstairs,” Miranda mouthed. She felt like a stone had settled in the pit of her stomach. Jodi nodded and Miranda slipped from the room, grateful her room was close by as unexpected tears threatened to fall.

  * * *

  “Call me when you get back?” The neediness in Lisa’s voice made Jodi cringe.

  She took a deep breath. “Sure,” Jodi reassured her. “I’ll call you when I get back and we’ll finalize the publicity campaign, okay?” Jodi tried unsuccessfully to bring the conversation back to business.

  “Great. I’ll take you for dinner and we’ll celebrate,” Lisa
said.

  “Hey, there’s nothing to celebrate yet. Don’t jinx me!”

  “I just know you’re going to win this. Break a leg, Jodi.”

  “Well, we’ll see. But thanks. Good night then.” Jodi jabbed the hang up button on her phone and tossed it across the bed.

  Oh God, Jodi, what have you done? “I miss you too?” What the hell? She chastised herself angrily. She had panicked, that’s what. She had tried to say it quickly and quietly but, of course, that was precisely the moment Miranda had come out of the bathroom and she was sure Miranda had heard it.

  Great, Jodi thought, so now Miranda will think that Lisa is my girlfriend. She rubbed a hand tiredly over her eyes, staring forlornly at the mirror opposite the bed. It’s not like I care what Miranda thinks, she told herself sternly, but she wasn’t quite sure she believed herself.

  More to the point, what would Lisa think? Oh help, she thought, fighting another round of rising panic. Lisa! The last thing she wanted was complication, but she had clearly just done exactly that. I should have just said nothing, moved on to something else. Jodi pursed her lips, studying her reflection. It wasn’t that easy. She’d always felt awkward, put on the spot even, when people had pressed her for emotional displays and declarations of love. Nan had been so great when she and Ally were growing up, but they hadn’t actually said “I love you” a lot. Jodi’s dad never really said it, and she could barely remember her mom. She felt out of practice. Tara had eventually become frustrated by Jodi’s “lack of romantic spontaneity,” as she called it, ultimately labeling Jodi a cold fish.

  “Why do I always have to be the one to tell you how I feel?” Tara had whined over a glass of champagne at a romantic dinner gone sour.

  “You don’t,” Jodi placated her, taking Tara’s hand in hers over the table. “You know I love you too, you just always seem to say it before me. I’m sorry, baby, I’ll make more of an effort, okay?”

  “You’d better,” Tara had pouted. “You’re not the only super-hot brunette in the sea, you know.”

  Jodi remembered her anger at Tara’s thinly disguised warning.

  “I’ll try to be more on the ball with this kind of stuff.” She let go of Tara’s hand and picked up her menu. “Now let’s order something. I’m starving.”

  Jodi hated fighting with Tara, and it seemed they had been having more and more petty arguments. Jodi always floundered, unsure of what to say, while Tara always seemed locked and loaded.

  “More on the ball,” Tara repeated, screwing up her nose like she had smelled something bad. “Still the everlasting, unfulfilled tennis player, aren’t you? Even in arguments.”

  Stung, Jodi had taken a big gulp of her champagne, coughing as the bubbles burned her throat. “Can we not do this please?” she begged. “Let’s just enjoy tonight.”

  “Sure, sweetheart,” Tara said with a mean look in her eye. “Why don’t you order the gazpacho? Cold soup will go nicely with your icy heart.”

  The opportune arrival of the waitress had saved Jodi from the need to reply, but she remembered that night painfully. It was one of their last nights out.

  Jodi’s tired muscles cried out as she eased herself off the large hotel bed and headed for the bathtub. Relationships, she thought gloomily. I’m just useless at relationships. I need to fix this with Lisa before she gets the wrong idea. She vowed to text her after her bath and clear things up. She really didn’t want to drag things out. And anyway, Lisa was quickly proving to be way more intense than Jodi could handle.

  Jodi discarded her clothes and slipped into the steaming, jasmine-scented water. Maybe Miranda hadn’t actually overheard her telephone conversation. After all, the water was running and she had spoken very quietly. Jodi slipped down into the water, groaning as the wonderful heat worked its magic on her strained muscles. I need to forget today, Jodi told herself. Today was obviously one of those days when things don’t come easily. The sooner I’m done with today, the sooner I’ll be back to being myself. Whoever that is.

  Chapter Eight

  “Looks like your girl won Carson by the skin of her teeth.” Miranda stepped backward as an overpowering wave of cologne assaulted her nostrils. The function room was crowded and Miranda was jostled as she scanned for an exit. The arrogant and handsome Craig Simmonds, up and coming men’s singles coach, leered at her suggestively. “Maybe I can give you some pointers on coaching to win,” he said, stepping toward her, “rather than just scraping by. What are you doing later, Miranda? Wanna get a…” he paused suggestively, “drink with me?”

  Miranda took another step back and bumped into the wall. Why oh why did she always end up being hit on by the sleaziest men in tennis, she wondered. Can’t they tell I’m a lesbian? She berated herself for not cutting her hair shorter. These official tennis functions were starting to become a real bore. At first she’d been excited by the invitations to proper Tennis Association dinners, but she’d quickly learned they were full of sleazeballs like Craig, keen to show off and make themselves seem important. At home tonight, as she’d sat on her bed trying to decide between the yellow or black tank, she had sighed, wishing she could have just stayed in with Eddie.

  “That’d be great, Craig,” she replied diplomatically, repressing a desire to step down hard on his toe, “but unfortunately I can’t tonight. Jodi keeps me pretty busy. And Jase really has it covered in the training department. I’m just assisting.”

  Craig leaned in closer, steadying himself with his arm against the wall and pinning her in. His cologne really was insulting. Maybe I could give you some pointers in subtlety, she thought, suppressing a grin.

  “There’s always more to learn, Miranda.” His breath was hot and stale. “I’ll take you out one night and I can give you some tips.” A tiny spray of saliva jumped from his mouth, his gaze traveling slowly down to her cleavage.

  “Miranda, here you are!” Miranda was startled to feel Jodi’s fingers wrap around her wrist. She gave Miranda a sly wink as she guided her out from under Craig’s arm. “Sorry, Craig, I need her,” Jodi said sweetly, blinking up at him innocently.

  “Uh, sure Jodi.” Craig looked annoyed, his eyes slightly narrowed. “I’ll catch up with you later, Miranda,” he called after her.

  “Sure,” she returned over her shoulder, grateful for Jodi’s help. “Later.”

  Miranda let herself be towed expertly across the room.

  “I hope that was all right?” Jodi said with a bemused glance back at Miranda. “You looked like you needed rescuing.”

  “Oh my God yes, thank you so much,” Miranda exclaimed, her breath catching slightly as Jodi’s hand slipped into hers. “I always seem to get stuck with those kind of guys at these functions.”

  “I know. It’s such a bore.” Jodi’s hand stayed in hers. “Come with me. Jase said he’d get us a table over by the windows somewhere.”

  Jodi’s warm, firm grip made Miranda giddy. Oblivious to the crowd, she hung on to Jodi, aware of little else but the fit of their hands. No more wine for me, she told herself firmly as they moved closer to the windows. I’ve clearly had enough.

  “I can’t see him,” Jodi said, standing on her tiptoes. Their hands still clasped, Miranda wouldn’t have been surprised if the whole room could hear her heartbeat.

  “Oh, there he is!” Jodi cried, nodding to a nearby table where Jason sat among a crowd of chatty patrons opposite a couple of empty chairs. Just as they reached the table, Jodi pulled her hand away and slid into a chair. Miranda’s hand felt instantly empty.

  “It’s insane in here,” Jodi moaned. “Miranda was nearly mauled by that revolting Craig Simmonds, and I can’t find anything to eat.”

  “I know, it’s completely painful,” Jason replied. “Here, I got you guys these. Eat them up. As soon as the speeches are done, we can leave.” Jason slid a couple of laden plates across the table to them.

  “Oooh, excellent! Thanks, Jase!” As Miranda reached for the plate, her arm brushed against Jodi’s, raising goose bumps o
n her skin. What’s wrong with me? Why am I so hyper aware of Jodi all of a sudden? “At least the food is amazing,” she said, attempting to sound normal. “I’m starved. I don’t know how you do this on a regular basis, though. I thought that guy was going to swallow me whole!”

  “Well, my little assistant coach,” Jason replied with a grin, “I don’t usually have those kinds of problems. Anyway, you’re going to have to get used to this kind of crap because it comes with the territory. You lose, you schmooze.”

  “But we didn’t lose.” Miranda’s perplexed frown revealed her confusion. “Jodi won Carson.”

  “Yes, I won,” Jodi said, her eyes suddenly serious, “but I didn’t win convincingly.” She absentmindedly popped an olive in her mouth. “I just won.”

  “So we’re here to show our faces and let everybody know that Jodi’s not spooked and that the Richards train is rolling on into the station. We need to let these USTA people know that she’s here and she’s in the market for the US Open wild card,” Jason added.

  “I see.” Miranda nodded. “It’s all a bit political isn’t it? Sort of an uncharted waters for me.”

  “Well, stick close by us and we’ll guide you through, kid.” Jason winked.

  “Oh, I plan to,” Miranda said, before giving her full attention to the plate of delicacies in front of her.

  A series of long and self-congratulatory speeches made by officials of various kinds followed the food, during which Miranda’s attention wandered off on more than one occasion. She was just beginning to wonder if things would go faster if she closed her eyes a little when she felt Jodi nudge her gently with her elbow.

  “You’re not supposed to actually fall asleep at the table, you know,” Jodi murmured, a hint of a smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth. “We’re supposed to be making a good impression.”