Chapter 4 #2
“Oh God, I can’t handle this,” Lara said, gripping Jasmine’s wrist. Dom descended the last few steps and surveyed them silently before turning to the wall beside the stairwell.
Jasmine pulled away and moved forward, feeling everyone hesitate and then crowd in behind her.
Dom pinned the single sheet of white printer paper to the corkboard and then faced them.
“Ladies, behind me is a draw ranking for the OBX Classic. Remember, not everyone will make the tournament. Some of the best up-and-coming players in the world will be attending as well. If you have any questions, I expect you to come see me in person. I will not be taking any calls from agents on this one. Is that understood?”
They all nodded.
“Good. Now, one more thing. Some of you might’ve heard that Penny’s back on campus and that Alex Russell is here as well, getting himself back into match shape. He and Penny will be training together leading up to the French Open.”
Jasmine’s focus shifted from the white sheet of paper behind her coach’s head to Dom’s face as a few gasps and nervous giggles came out of the crowd around her.
People were used to Penny being around, although some of them liked to suck up to her, like her talent might rub off on them if they got close enough.
But Alex Russell? That was insane. Her own parents were a big deal, but more for their relationship off the court than anything else.
Alex was only twenty-four and already had the same number of Grand Slams as her parents did combined.
“I expect you all to behave professionally. No hovering around their practice court and making nuisances of yourselves. Do I make myself clear?”
Everyone nodded again.
Dom eyed the crowd like he didn’t quite believe them, but he continued anyway. “Excellent. I’ll see you all tomorrow.”
He turned around, escaping up to his office, and the crowd pressed forward immediately.
For a moment, Jasmine’s vision blurred as she took in the names. She took a deep breath, blinked, then looked again.
OBX CLASSIC RANKINGS
Jasmine Randazzo (USA/OBX)
Cara Pagnini (ITA)
Tatiana Belova (RUS)
Indiana Gaffney (USA/OBX)
Stella Almanzar (ESP)
Jessica McCormack (NZL)
Aliya Polina (RUS)
Ellie Forester (AUS)
Jelena Petrovi? (SRB)
Yulia Markelova (RUS)
Laura Wiltvank (NED)
Cassie Raker (USA/OBX)
Lara Cronin (USA/OBX)
Katarina Odette (GRB)
Daciana Raducan (ROU)
Katie Nelson (USA/OBX)
Behind her Lara squeaked in delight at making the cut, and Addison Quinn, who hadn’t, started sobbing, but none of it really registered for Jasmine. Her eyes were glued to the top of the list.
How was it possible that after one day of training Indiana Gaffney was fourth? Dom even put her above Stella Almanzar, who’d already won a couple of Challenger tournaments and was a player Jasmine had lost to on more than one occasion.
She pushed through the crowd and saw Indy hovering at the edges, her weight shifting back and forth, eyes focused on the board but not moving any closer to it.
It almost seemed like she was scared to look.
Their eyes met, but Jasmine strode past her, across the atrium and straight for the door.
As she was about to open it, someone pulled it from the outside.
A slim woman dressed in a flowing white dress down to her ankles, secured at the waist by a large brown leather belt, and a tall man in jeans and a collared shirt stood just outside the door.
“Mom, Dad, what are you guys doing here? I thought we were going to meet up later,” she whispered, glancing back over her shoulder to see if anyone else had noticed the appearance of the famous couple.
“We came for you.” Her mom, Lisa, practically skipped the last few steps between them, bracelets jangling at her wrists, before pulling her into a hug. “Number one ranked in the tournament. Mija, I am so proud of you.”
Jasmine lifted her head from her mom’s shoulder and saw her dad, John, standing behind them.
Her parents were her biggest fans. Tennis was never something she was expected to do.
They never even brought up the subject of her playing until she begged for lessons when she was seven.
Yet, despite all the success they enjoyed in their own careers, the smallest things, like a number one ranking in an invitational, had them beaming like she’d won a Grand Slam.
The problem was, it was still a number one ranking in an invitational and not a Grand Slam victory.
But she was going to eventually get one—that was the plan—and the OBX Classic was a necessary stop on the path she’d wanted to travel since she was old enough to understand exactly who her parents were.
A lock of salt-and-pepper hair fell onto her father’s forehead. “Dom called me when he put the rankings together. I wanted to be here when you found out.”
“Oh my God,” a breathy voice said from behind her. “They’re here.”
The crowd behind Jasmine converged around them.
Though her parents had founded OBX, they pretty much gave Dom free rein to run the facility as he saw fit and stayed out of his way.
Whenever they showed up on the grounds, it was a pretty big deal and incredibly annoying that no one could ever have an ounce of chill about it.
“Can I have a picture?” Lara asked, holding her phone out and sidling right up to Jasmine’s dad, snapping a picture before he could answer one way or the other.
“I watch the video of your French Open win all the time,” Katie said to her mom, leaning around Jasmine’s shoulder. Jasmine fought down the urge to snap her elbow into Katie’s stomach.
“Wait, will you sign my racket bag?” Cassie asked, digging through the bag for a pen.
Lisa shot Jasmine an apologetic grin but then turned to her admirers and patiently responded to them one by one.
A small shriek from over by the rankings list echoed over the din of autograph and picture requests, and Jasmine’s eyes flew to where Indiana Gaffney stood, hand over her mouth, staring at the board.
The blond girl turned around, her hand falling away, a huge smile on her face.
Apparently she’d worked up the courage to look at the list. Jasmine averted her eyes.
She was ready to live up to her parents’ legacy, and if she beat Indiana Gaffney along the way, so much the better.