Chapter 75
Seventy-Five
Delilah woke to warmth against her side. Cassie.
She blinked against the dim light coming through a gap in the curtains. She was exhausted. From a lot of things. But it was the last day she had to get ready before the sodding Invitational tomorrow.
But she didn’t dread it like she had. Before that Whitney girl had tried to take her to task and failed.
Still, the unexpected lay ahead of her. So bloody much of it. It felt like there were so many hurdles to jump before she could simply rest. And a stumble over any one of them could take everything she’d worked so hard for.
If the miracle did occur, and she wasn’t fired, could she actually do justice to someone Cassie had spent her life idolising? Could she get it right? Any of it?
And then there was Cassie herself. The biggest, most fragile question of all. Should Delilah tell her that she wanted more? Could she risk it? Could she bear the possibility of being rejected?
Too many questions, too early. She had no answers. And she feared getting them.
Cassie stirred beside her, eyelids flickering open. Ice-blue eyes were looking at her.
‘Morning,’ Delilah said softly, trying not to look like a woman freaking out before she’d had her first coffee.
Cassie blinked, yawned, and smiled. ‘Morning,’ she said.
Delilah watched her for a long beat, crazy things trying to get out of her mouth. She didn’t let them. As an actress, it was always best not to improv. Not if your scene partner wasn’t on board.
They dressed slowly, almost ritually, lacing shoes, checking rackets, filling water bottles.
On the drive to the court, it was still quiet between them. ‘Ready for the last day of hell?’ Cassie asked finally.
That was a very complicated question to unravel, so Delilah didn’t try. ‘I just hope Whitney shows up,’ she said evenly.
‘Me too. She’s been great for your game.’
‘Because I hate her?’ Delilah asked.
‘Exactly. You know how to make that a weapon now.’
‘She’s such a little shit, though,’ Delilah complained as they pulled into the car park.
Cassie pulled up the handbrake and unclipped her belt. ‘She’s young. And a bit too angry. She’ll probably outgrow that.’
Delilah gave Cassie a sideways look as she unclipped, but made no move to get out of Cassie’s car. ‘You know, she reminds me of the first video I saw of you playing. That look in her eyes, like she wants to hit the ball through your skull.’
Cassie laughed, and then her eyes were sad. ‘Man, I miss that.’
‘You don’t have to. I mean, I know your elbow means you can’t play now.
But…’ Delilah paused, knowing she was in tricky territory.
But she had to say it. It could not go unsaid any longer.
‘You should coach properly. You’re wasted at that club.
You could give kids like you were a real shot. You could help them.’
Cassie was quiet. ‘No, I can’t.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because if I can’t play, I can’t be in that world anymore.’
‘Why?’ Delilah pressed.
Cassie looked at her. ‘If you couldn’t act, would you want to be around actors? Watch them thrive?’
Delilah gave a half-shrug. ‘That’s an actor’s life. You keep struggling while other people leap ahead. And sometimes, they’re not even the ones who deserve it.’
‘But you’re getting your shot now. That’s never going to happen for me.’
Delilah studied her. She could see that Cassie had built a wall and cemented herself behind it. It wasn’t her place to chip at it. But she couldn’t help herself.
‘That doesn’t mean you can’t find good in it anymore,’ Delilah said quietly.
Cassie gave a humourless smile. ‘It does. There’s no comeback from this. Not for me.’
‘So that’s it? You just… shut the door?’
‘I don’t have a choice.’
Delilah felt almost angry now. ‘You do. It just doesn’t look the way you thought it would.’ She softened. ‘You’re still that player, Cass. Even if you never hit another ball. And you could teach someone else how to use everything you have.’
For a long moment, Cassie just stared at her, unreadable. Then she looked away. ‘You make it sound so easy.’
‘It isn’t. But it’s better than pretending you’re already done.’
Cassie’s nostrils flared. ‘Look, I… I just think it’s better to train idiots who don’t care about tennis.’
Delilah was going to retort that—even though she wasn’t sure how—when someone knocked on the car window nearest her. ‘JESUS!’ she exclaimed. She turned to find Whitney’s angry face at the window.
‘You’re late!’ she said. ‘Get out of the car. I don’t have all day.’ Then she stormed off to the courts.
Once Delilah’s heart had climbed back into her chest, she turned back to Cassie. ‘She’s bloody eager.’
Cassie laughed. ‘Yep. She’s a killer. You ready to use that?’
Delilah sighed and got out of the car, grabbing her gear from the back. ‘OK, then,’ she said as they approached the court. ‘Let’s do this one more time.’