Chapter 19
Nineteen
She arrived five minutes early, determined to beat Cassie for once.
Not on the court, obviously, but just in terms of punctuality.
It was overcast and breezy, and she’d jogged the last hundred yards, which was probably unnecessary but made her feel like she belonged here.
Like she was the kind of person who trained.
Only the court gate was locked.
She frowned, leaning against the wire mesh. A handwritten sign flapped in the wind.
Courts are closed today due to a maintenance issue. Sorry!
‘Fuck’s sake,’ she muttered, wiping sweat off her forehead.
‘Well, that’s just great,’ said a voice behind her.
Cassie. She wore her usual black track jacket, zipped halfway, her hands stuffed into the pockets.
‘They didn’t send a warning?’ Delilah asked.
‘Not to me,’ Cassie said. ‘Probably decided it wasn’t worth the trouble. God forbid we plan around it.’
Delilah stared through the fence at the empty court, livid. She’d brought a proper water bottle today, not just the sad reusable one with a half-cracked lid. She’d wanted Cassie to see it for some reason. See Delilah taking this seriously.
But now she felt thrown. Like she didn’t know what to do with all the adrenaline buzzing in her blood. She’d wanted to sweat.
She glanced sideways at Cassie. ‘So… I guess we cancel?’
Cassie tilted her head. ‘Looks that way.’
Delilah hesitated, then blurted, ‘Or… we could get coffee?’
Cassie blinked. ‘What?’
Delilah felt heat creep up her neck. ‘You’re here. I’m here. And there’s a café over the road.’
Cassie studied her for a long moment. And Delilah’s desire to sweat was fulfilled.
‘Coffee, then,’ Cassie said.
Delilah tried not to sound terrified by the acceptance of her own idea. ‘Great. Coffee sounds great.’
***
They ended up at a small place with mismatched chairs and a chalkboard menu. Delilah ordered something ridiculous with oat milk and cinnamon. Cassie asked for black coffee, no sugar.
They took their drinks to a small table by the window. Delilah tried not to feel nervous, seeing as she’d been the one to make this happen. Why the hell had she done that? What madness had taken her?
Cassie looked like she always did. Contained, quietly impossible to read.
‘I was weirdly looking forward to getting annihilated today,’ Delilah said, after a beat.
Cassie took a sip of her coffee. ‘You weren’t going to get annihilated.’
‘Please. I’m still very much at the annihilation stage of my tennis journey.’
‘Maybe. Maybe not.’
Delilah blinked. ‘Wait, was that a compliment?’
Cassie shrugged. ‘You’re not as shocking as you were.’
Delilah grinned. ‘Wow. You really are warming to me.’
Cassie looked at her over the rim of her cup. ‘Don’t push it.’
But her eyes weren’t cold. And the silence that followed wasn’t awkward. Just new. Like a hallway neither of them had walked down before.
Delilah stirred her drink unnecessarily. ‘Can I ask you something?’
Cassie gave a small nod.
‘You ever get bored of it? Tennis, I mean. Coaching?’
Cassie was quiet for a beat too long. Then she said, ‘You’re not the first person to ask me that.’
‘And?’
‘Yes.’ She paused. ‘You spend enough time coaching the same type of person, it flattens out.’
‘What kind of people do you coach?’
‘Middle-aged people who use me like your average personal trainer. People who don’t really give a fuck about tennis.’
Delilah felt mild horror. ‘Why don’t you train real players? I mean, surely you could.’
‘Maybe.’ Cassie took a long sip.
‘You’re not going to answer that question, are you?’
‘No,’ Cassie said pleasantly.
Delilah tilted her head. ‘So if most of your clients don’t care about tennis, why do you do it?’
Cassie set her cup down with care, as if weighing her words. ‘It pays the bills,’ she said simply.
‘That’s it?’ Delilah pressed. ‘You could be… anywhere else.’
Cassie’s eyes flicked up. ‘Not anywhere,’ she said evenly.
Delilah realised what she’d said. ‘Well… No. Sorry.’
‘It’s an old wound,’ Cassie assured her. Delilah felt she meant that in all senses.
‘So, how does it compare? Teaching me versus your usual people?’ Delilah asked. She knew she was fishing, but she couldn’t help it. How many opportunities like this would there be?
Cassie almost, but not quite, laughed. ‘You’re learning fast,’ she said.
‘Am I?’ Delilah leaned forward. ‘Because it feels like I’m still terrible.’
‘Terrible doesn’t last,’ Cassie replied. ‘And I can see you want to be better.’
Delilah let that sink in. ‘So you’re not annoyed, teaching me?’
‘Annoyed?’ Cassie raised an eyebrow. ‘No. You’re… persistent. That’s not nothing.’
Delilah laughed, slightly breathless. ‘Occupational hazard.’
Cassie studied her for a long moment. ‘Does acting involve a lot of persistence?’
‘Being a failing actress does,’ Delilah said with a smile.
‘You’re not failing. You’re playing Tamsin Rowe.’
Delilah tried not to smile, but it escaped anyway. ‘We’ll see.’
‘You’ll get there.’
‘Will it be fast enough, though?’
Cassie sipped her coffee slowly. ‘I think so. If you want it.’
Delilah nodded. ‘It’s not just about fooling people. You see that, right? I want to become as close as possible to some kind of player. There’s no way I can play her otherwise.’
Cassie nodded. ‘She was a legend. It’s big boots.’
‘I know.’
There was a silence. ‘You know, I can kind of see it,’ Cassie said.
Delilah raised an eyebrow. ‘What?’
‘You kind of look like her.’
Delilah blinked. Tamsin Rowe was a very beautiful person. So, did that mean that Cassie had just called her beautiful?
Delilah felt her heart racing like she was on the court.