Chapter 69
Sixty-Nine
Delilah lay curled up on the narrow bed in the bottom bunk. She was facing the wall, dazed. Once again, she was pretty sure she was screwed. She’d come through similar situations of late. But she’d been lucky too many times. Surely this was it. The end of hope.
A soft knock at the door made her jump. Then Cassie’s voice filtered in. ‘Delilah?’
‘Come in.’ She wiped her eyes hastily but didn’t turn as Cassie entered. ‘Sorry, I’m a mess.’
‘When did that ever bother me?’ Cassie said.
Despite the situation, that made her smile. She rolled over to face Cassie. She looked oddly… warm in the cheeks?
‘Are you OK?’ Delilah asked, wiping her cheeks.
Cassie chuckled. ‘Me? Yeah. Just came from getting Petra fired, so I’m dandy.’
Delilah climbed out of the bunk. ‘What?’
‘She leaked that footage. I mean, obviously.’
Delilah blinked. ‘You know, I really hadn’t thought about that part of it.’ Her brain caught up. ‘Wait, you got her fired?’
Cassie shrugged. ‘I mean, not yet. But eventually, I think. The guy who owns this place, Robert Gallo? He’s a very angry little billionaire who fucking loves tennis but can’t play for toffee.
So he bought his way into the tennis world with this camp, and he takes its reputation very seriously because it’s his reputation.
When he catches wind that Petra’s turning it into a joke by violating players’ privacy for lols on the internet, he’ll go absolutely nuts. ’
‘And you called him?’
‘I called someone who can call someone who can call him,’ Cassie explained.
‘That’s… oddly sexy,’ Delilah said, feeling a surprising smile form on her own face.
Cassie looked briefly bashful but shook it off. ‘We should probably get out of here before she sends security or something.’
Delilah nodded and stood, starting to pack quickly. Cassie did the same.
‘Can I ask…’ Cassie said, stuffing socks into her bag.
Delilah paused. ‘What?’
Cassie took a deep breath, pausing sock packing. ‘What did your agent say?’
‘Oh,’ Delilah breathed. ‘That.’
Cassie bit the inside of her mouth. ‘It’s bad?’
‘Yep. It’s the filmmakers.’ She took a deep breath. ‘They wanted to invite me to something called The Beckett Invitational this weekend.’
Cassie wasn’t seeing the problem. ‘OK, that sounds… fine?’
‘My agent said it was a thing to support youth tennis. Something about exhibition matches,’ Delilah explained further.
‘Yeah, I know it. Big players squeezing money out of wealthy tennis donors to run programmes for kids who can’t afford private lessons. I benefited from The Beckett Foundation myself a million years ago,’ Cassie said.
‘And?’ Delilah asked.
Cassie frowned, still not following the breadcrumb trail. ‘They do exhibition matches, there’s a dinner…’ She finally found a crumb. ‘Oh… wait.’
‘Yeah. My agent mentioned, oh so casually, that they often have “a few relaxed rallies between guests.”’
Cassie nodded. ‘I see.’
‘It’s clear what this is about. They’ve seen the video, and this is my only chance to show them I’m not totally uncoordinated. If I fuck this up, they can still recast me without fucking up their schedule. They’re probably already looking.’
‘But they haven’t said that.’
‘No, they’re trying to make it seem casual, so they don’t ruin the professional relationship before the shoot starts, I guess, just in case they don’t actually need to fire me. But I know. And they know I know. And I know they know I know. And they know—’
Cassie reached over and squeezed her hand, breaking the loop. ‘Look, I’m not worried about your playing. But we can keep going right up to the minute, if it’s what you need. We can move your skills up a notch or two, even in this short a time.’
‘But not here?’
‘No, not here. But I’ll find a place,’ Cassie told her confidently.
For the first time in hours, Delilah felt a flicker of hope. Maybe she could survive this? But that bloody video… She’d looked like a doofus. Uncoordinated and possibly a little drunk.
Still, Cassie didn’t seem worried.
‘I think you might be my hero,’ Delilah told Cassie seriously.
Cassie rolled her eyes, not taking it seriously at all.
‘I’m just trying to get into your knickers,’ Cassie smiled.
Delilah had to laugh. ‘You’ve already gained access, you liar.’
‘Stay in your good graces, then?’
‘You could have done that with a fraction of the effort, and I think you know that.’
Cassie sighed. ‘You got me. I guess I just care about you,’ she said, her eyes flicked away, unable to bear the sincerity of the moment.
But Delilah could handle it for the both of them. And she would. ‘How long do you think we’ve got before the heavies turn up?’ she asked slyly.
Cassie looked back at her and grinned. She leaned in, her voice barely more than a breath. ‘Could be minutes. Seconds.’
Delilah’s heart raced as their eyes locked. ‘Hmm. That sounds very dangerous.’
Cassie didn’t move away. Instead, she leaned in so close that Delilah could feel the warmth of her breath.
Cassie’s mouth brushed hers, light at first, testing.
Delilah responded instantly, fingers tangling in Cassie’s T-shirt to pull her closer.
Cassie backed her against the wall, hands roaming, the scrape of rough wood at Delilah’s shoulder heightening every nerve.
Clothes shifted under impatient fingers.
The world was shrinking down to the heat of their bodies and the dizzying certainty that Delilah had never been more alive. She didn’t care if security came; she wanted Cassie right here, right now.