Chapter 12 #2
Blissfully, cloud cover and a soft breeze swept in off the water.
The cooler air was a relief against her skin after nearly three hours baking under the sun.
Indy looked at the sky. A few more minutes, she pleaded with the clouds.
She needed a few more minutes of shade. She couldn’t last much longer; it was time to take a risk, go for a line and hope it landed in.
Jasmine was preparing to serve. It was the weakest part of her game, and the longer the match went on, the weaker it got. Indy was ready to expose that weakness one more time. Jasmine leaned back, then pushed up and out, the ball hitting her racket with a soft thwack.
The serve was slow and flat, bouncing up at the perfect height for Indy’s forehand. She stepped into the shot and rifled a winner up the line.
The crowd erupted, people leaping to their feet, screaming and cheering, applauding like crazy, but they weren’t done yet.
“Gaffney leads the tiebreaker six points to five. Championship point.”
Indy tried to ignore the wall of sound crashing down onto the court; it was almost as oppressive as the heat.
Match point.
“Thank you, players are ready,” the chair umpire said. “Thank you.” The crowd quieted, though not entirely, the energy still reverberating through the court, waiting to ignite again.
In a tiebreak, the players alternate serves, and it was Indy’s turn.
She had enough energy in her tank for one more.
It was time to end this. She took her time, making sure her rhythm was perfect.
Her muscles bunched and then she snapped up and through the air, sending a low-lying missile across the court.
Then, with a final burst of energy, she sprinted forward, meeting Jasmine’s return with a sharp-swinging volley.
The ball hit the blue hard court just inside the line.
Jasmine’s sneakers squeaked against the ground as she raced forward to get to the ball, but before she could reach it, it bounced again.
“Game, set, and match, Gaffney.”
She did it. She won, and that was her last coherent thought before she collapsed to the ground in exhausted, victorious sobs.
Indy sat on the trainer’s table in the center of the room, trying to slow everything down, but her head was still spinning.
Showered and dressed, she was ready for the party at Deuce about to be held in her honor.
She had brought a dress with her just in case, along with a pair of sweats and a T-shirt she would have worn back to the dorms had she lost.
It was all a blur after that last point.
She remembered shaking hands with Jasmine and the chair umpire, then moving back onto the court and applauding the crowd, clapping her racket against the heel of her hand, thanking them for their support.
Dom brought the trophy out to her, congratulating her on the win, and he hadn’t seemed all that surprised at the result.
Then she floated back to the locker room holding the trophy tightly to her chest.
She won. It was one thing to wish it or to imagine it, but it was totally different to have done it.
She beat Jasmine Randazzo and a handful of the best young players in the world.
That made her one of the best, right? No, that made her the best. This was everything she and her mom had dreamed about, and now it was real.
A prickling of tears edged out of the corners of her eyes, and for the first time in a long time, she let them fall.
“You’re going to freak everyone out if you show up at the party still hysterical crying,” Penny said from the doorway.
Indy wiped at her eyes quickly. “Sorry, it’s a lot to take in.”
Penny pulled a tissue from the container on the trainer’s table and held it out for her. “Don’t try. You might hurt yourself. After all, you are pretty thickheaded. It took you an entire set before you figured out you had to go serve and volley.”
Indy took the tissue, dabbing under her eyes, and laughed. “You coming to the party?”
“Uh, no, sorry. Tonight’s about you.”
“It’s okay. I get it,” Indy said, standing up and smoothing down the skirt of her dress. If Penny went to the party, she’d be a distraction to the sponsors and media.
“Anyway, I just wanted to be the first to congratulate you,” she said, opening her arms, and Indy fell into the hug gratefully. “You should get up to Deuce. Everyone’s waiting for you.” She stepped away and turned to leave but paused at the door. “Oh and, Indy? Good luck.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’ll see. Welcome to the club.”
Penny’s meaning was crystal clear as soon as Indy stepped through the doors at Deuce.
A group of fellow OBX players rushed her, pulling her in for hugs and congratulating her.
“You were awesome, Indy,” Addison said, hugging her tightly.
“Beyond amazing,” a girl whose name she didn’t know said, grasping her hand and squeezing it.
She even saw Lara standing at the edge of the crowd, though she wasn’t quite brave enough to join in.
Could they be any more superficial? She was suddenly grateful for the way they acted when she first arrived.
There wouldn’t be a struggle to weed out the genuine people from the fakes.
“Thanks, guys,” she said, pulling away from them, only to be intercepted by Dom.
Her coach’s arm came around her shoulders as he led her to a group of gentlemen, the rep from Solaris Beachwear among them.
Jack was there, chatting with a man she didn’t recognize, and a step or two away, Caroline was all smiles next to Harold Hodges, chatting with her hands flying around her as the reporter nodded along with whatever she was rambling about.
After more handshakes than she could count and hearing more names than she’d ever be able to remember, Indy was practically swaying on her feet. She had no idea where Dom had vanished to, but she was caught in a sea of well-wishers, all of whom seemed desperate to congratulate her.
“Indy, what a win,” yet another man in a suit said.
She had no idea who he was, but that was par for the course.
She had to get used to people she didn’t know knowing who she was.
“I’d love to talk to you about representation.
” Apparently he was an agent. He held out a business card.
Indy took it, but before she could even glance at the name, a hand snatched it from her grip.
“Now, now, Mark, you know better than that,” Jack Harrison said, shoving the card back at the man, whose mouth turned down into a scowl, but then he nodded sharply and walked away.
Indy looked up at Jack, brow furrowed, but before she could speak, his hand cupped her elbow, and with the gentlest of pressure, he steered her away from the group.
“Sorry about that,” he said when they reached an empty corner of the room.
He stood in front of her, blocking her from view.
“Mark D’Angelis is the worst kind of agent.
He runs his clients into the ground, sucking every dollar from them, and then drops them as soon as their play suffers.
Signing with Caroline Morneau is one thing.
She’s a shark, but she wants what’s best for her clients. D’Angelis is a snake.”
“Oh,” she said, the tension that had been building in her shoulders since she arrived at the party suddenly loosening when she realized no one could see her. “Thanks for getting me out of there. I was… This is so…”
“Overwhelming? You looked like you were about to keel over,” Jack said. “All this can be difficult at first.”
She laughed a little. “Yeah, I think Penny tried to warn me, but I wasn’t expecting… I don’t—I guess I wasn’t expecting anyone to care.”
“Of course they care. You won. Congratulations, by the way.”
Shrugging, she said, “It doesn’t seem real. I can’t believe it yet.”
Jack laughed, his green eyes hypnotizing in their intensity.
“I can.” The soft tone of his voice sent her back to the night before the tournament.
Just thinking about the kiss he gave her on the cheek made her toes curl.
It was so innocent. But it still made her mind reel.
If his lips against her cheek felt like that, what would it feel like to really kiss him?
His mouth on hers or maybe her neck, and his hands, his hands at her hips and her thighs and then between them, forever making her own hands feel incredibly inadequate at the task.
“What are you doing here, anyway?” she asked, trying to banish those unhelpful thoughts and keep him talking, hoping he wouldn’t shut down on her again.
“There were a couple of sponsors I had to firm things up with before they left town, and I wanted to congratulate you.”
“Indiana!” Caroline’s voice carried into their corner.
She groaned, not thinking, and leaned forward, her forehead landing against Jack’s shoulder.
He stiffened for a moment before his large, warm hand came up to rest against her back, not quite an embrace, but close enough for Indy to pretend.
She let herself relish the closeness for a second and then she stood, straightening her shoulders.
“Ah, there you are,” Caroline said, reaching out to drag her away again, but Indy pulled back.
“Just a second,” Indy said, and Caroline stepped back a few feet, keeping her eyes locked on her.
Jack cleared his throat. “I should get going.” He hesitated for a moment before he stepped closer, pressing his lips against her cheek.
Indy tried to fight the instinct to tilt her head a fraction of an inch and end this torturous game he insisted on playing.
It was a losing battle for them both. She turned, and so did he, their lips brushing softly, chastely, but it was enough to send instantaneous electricity snapping through her veins at the ghost of the touch, her entire body swaying forward into his.
At the contact, he pulled back and stared at her wide-eyed, mouth opening and closing, breath ragged, but not uttering a word.
Then, after a few silent, tense moments, he nodded a farewell, turned, and left.
Indy watched him go, pressing her fingers against her still-tingling lips.
“He is very handsome,” Caroline said.
“Yes, he is,” Indy agreed.
“He is Penny Harrison’s brother and agent as well, no?” Her tone was casual, too casual to truly be so. Caroline was a shark. Jack was right. Of course he was right. He was brilliant and she’d kissed him—kind of.
“Indiana?” Caroline said, looking at her expectantly.
“Sorry, were you saying something?”
“Yes, I was congratulating you again on a wonderful performance out on the court today. Simply fantastique.”
“Thank you.”
“I have been speaking to several sponsors tonight. I do not have to tell you that you are very interesting to them. Your looks and the potential they see, it is an excellent combination. I will be speaking to Dominic. This win, it will mean wild cards, Indiana, and wild cards will put you on the biggest stage in the world. These companies will be willing to pay to see their brands showcased on that stage, but my hands are tied until you make your decision.”
Caroline gestured out into the party, where men and women in business attire were working the room. Tennis was a high-end sport, and its sponsors leaned toward the ritzy side of the market. Which companies were interested in her? Rolex? Longines? Nike? Lacoste?
She bit her lip, suddenly feeling guilty. Caroline had been working on her behalf without any guarantee that Indy would actually sign with her. She was a shark, but maybe in a world where people treated you like bait, maybe she needed a shark.
“Okay.”
Caroline tilted her head. “Okay?”
“Okay, I’m in. Where do I sign?”
The agent’s smile was as wide as her stiletto heels were tall. She pulled a file folder from her large clutch purse and then offered Indy a pen.
“Your signature here.”
She signed her name quickly.
“Magnifique,” Caroline said, adding her own signature. “You will not regret this decision, Indiana. You are talented, very talented, more so than you even realize, I think.”
“I think I’m starting to understand.”