Chapter 21 #2
I step out, my green satin slip dress light against my skin.
Pen touches the long gold earrings I’ve paired with the myriad of hoops adorning my ears.
“You look amazing,” she says quietly. “I have two of your sponsors ready to talk to you. You just have to thank them for putting this together, and I’ll handle the rest.”
I reach for a skewered tapa, and she nudges me, her shoulder at the height of my elbow. “Not yet. You’ll ruin your lipstick. Talk first, then food.”
“I thought I was supposed to be enjoying myself,” I grumble.
“Give me half an hour.”
I sigh. “Fine. Where’s Karolína?”
“Wowing the Stratosphere rep. Come on.” Pen leads me toward a cocktail table near the back of the terrace, where three sharply dressed women stand, talking and laughing with my coach.
Zahra, the head of Stratosphere’s athlete partnerships in Europe has her short black hair slicked back into a bun, white blazer and wide-legged black pants crisp and ironed. Tabitha, Pen’s close friend and the social content lead, stands beside her.
Zahra spots me first, opening her arms for a hug and a kiss on both cheeks. “Nic! How lovely to see you,” she says.
“Thank you so much for having me.”
“Having you? I’m about ready to throw a hundred parties for you all over the world.”
“Oh?”
Tabitha nods, eyes wide. “People were obsessed with how the clay line looked on you in Charleston.” She raises a coupe glass with a slice of dried orange. “Pen’s footage from your practice days did crazy numbers. That second-skin tank went viral, and we sold out more times than I can count.”
“Oh, yes.” My throat is thick, and I know I need to say more, but it’s like my brain has stopped working. I glance at Pen, and her smile helps loosen the thoughts. “I liked it. It didn’t shift when I served.”
“Function is luxury nowadays,” Zahra answers with a smile.
When the others laugh, I join them softly. Does that require a response?
Luckily, the third woman who was talking to Karolína hops in to ask, “How is your Madrid kit? Everything to your liking?”
“It’s perfect, thank you.”
Pen, probably sensing the imminent mayhem, slides in charmingly to talk about the fitting we’ll be doing ahead of the French Open before the conversation shifts to content shoots. I nod politely and laugh when it seems appropriate, following Pen’s lead, but most of the words float past me.
After a lull in the conversation, I scan the terrace. Right as I’m eyeing the elevators, they open. Aleks steps out in a crisp, collared white shirt, sleeves rolled to mid-forearm. His eyes find mine, and he smiles.
Relief settles into my stomach, immediately replaced by irritation that my body relaxes just by existing in his proximity.
“Nic, we’ll let you have fun,” Zahra says. “It’s your party. Go mingle.”
I thank them once more before stepping away. Aleks is beside me moments later. “Nic, I’m sorry. Brunch took longer than expected, and then they asked me to go through film for Anya. I didn’t realize the time until after the cars left.”
I shrug, grabbing a glass of water from a tray. “No worries.”
Hoping for some quiet, I find an empty corner of the rooftop with a stunning view of the city, Aleks’ warmth following me as I move.
“You’re upset,” he states quietly, resting his forearms against the tall wooden barrier beside me.
“No.”
“You’re obviously upset, solnyshko. I’m sorry I had to run out so fast and miss breakfast with you.”
“How was the conversation?”
Aleks sighs, rubbing a hand along his jaw. “Not good. Natasha lost her nerve after a particularly nasty first few minutes. My father isn’t the nicest in the morning. She’s going to try again another day, but that doesn’t matter right now. What matters is I’m sorry.”
Taking a long sip of the cool water, I turn those sentiments over in my head. “You don’t need to apologize. You don’t owe me anything.”
“No?”
I turn to him. “I think this morning is further proof that this is a bad idea. Yesterday, we flew through the conversation, brushed past the whole ‘she’s my sister’ aspect of this like it wasn’t massively important, but it is.”
Aleks is already shaking his head. “But it isn’t.”
“You want to put a pin in the whole thing. Set it aside. Our one rule is that talking about her is off limits, but that’s not feasible in the long term.
It’s not even feasible in the short term, clearly.
Because I will play her again and again and again.
I won’t train with her, because that was a train wreck and I’m not sure it helped, but there will still be things she does on the practice courts that will get under my skin.
I will still have mean thoughts about her that I’ll struggle to stop myself from saying, and if you stand up for her the way you feel obligated to do—”
“Nic, she’s—”
I hold up my hand. “And I understand why you feel that obligation, but either way, it only makes me angry. So if, instead, we keep this clear cut, that won’t be a problem. Especially not if we part ways after Roland Garros.”
Aleks steps closer, a muscle in his jaw feathering, and the spicy part of his cologne wraps around me before the citrus. His breath is warm, our faces inches apart. “You have no good reason to end this after Roland Garros. We’ve been doing great.”
“It’s a trial run, Aleks.”
He scoffs. “If you say so.”
“Aleks, she’s your sister. You’re beholden to run at her every whim.
You’ll have to make a choice when we play each other: her box or mine.
” He said he would sit in mine when we agreed to work together, but it’s hard for me to believe that’s true.
“I mean, you watched film for her, so clearly being my trainer doesn’t mean anything.
And while we might not be doing more than fucking, I’m tired of being a second choice.
” I bite my tongue, but it’s too late. The words are out there.
I scramble to finish with, “I don’t expect to be your priority over your sister.
But I do expect to be a priority for my team members. ”
Because at the heart of it, that’s true, right? Regardless of what we are (which is nothing), he is on my team, and seeing him sit in her box would be one more psychological weapon for Anya to wield.
Aleks laughs, angry. “You have no fucking idea, do you?”
I cross my arms. Is it so crazy to want my team members to want to cheer for me? “What?”
“From the moment you showed up at my parents’ academy, your head down, your focus unwavering, I have been obsessed.
What luck that I began training Anya right after that and got to travel to every country you did.
” His head dips, so close that we’re now exchanging exhales.
“I have searched for you in every room, in every city, at every tournament.
I was ecstatic when you joined my sessions during offseason in November and bided my time, hoping, waiting for an opportunity to work with you.
Because you are the most talented athlete I have ever seen and I wanted to be part of the reason you accomplished everything you set your mind to.
“The moment my parents told me you might need a new performance coach, I told them if you asked for me, I’d step back from training Anya.
And I meant it. You are my priority. It’s your box I will choose every single time when you play each other.
And while I may have been gone today, it was only because I wanted to be there for Tash.
I want to be free of this guilt. I shouldn’t have gotten roped into film, but the minute I saw the time, I left, despite their appeals for me to keep helping. ”
“Aleks…”
“So, no, solnyshko. You will never be my second choice. And if you continue expecting me to choose her over you, I will take great pleasure in proving you wrong. Every time.”
My heart stops. It’s an absolute triumph that I haven’t dropped my glass to shatter into a million pieces at my feet, my thoughts scattered. They’re coming so fast, I can hardly parse them.
I didn’t say what I did with the expectation he would tell me otherwise. Honestly, before this, I hoped to take those words back. But now…
“Oh! I’m sorry.” Pen’s voice sends a bucket of water over my head. I take a step away from Aleks, glancing at my manager. “I was going to have you talk to one more person, but I can come back.” She looks between the two of us quickly.
“She’ll be with you in a second, Pen,” Aleks says, his voice hovering near gravelly.
When our gazes clash, I realize his eyes haven’t left my face.
He drops his voice. “I’m sorry Anya found out about us.
I know you didn’t want it getting out. I’ll figure out a way to make sure she doesn’t tell anyone. ”
“Thank you,” I answer softly.
He tips his head toward my manager. “Go. I’ll find the guys.”
I follow Pen on unsteady legs, Aleks’ words replaying in my head over and over again, slotting together to form a picture, filling in gaps I never paid attention to.
And when I’m forced to converse as though the world as I knew it didn’t just tilt and drop me into another dimension, it’s his voice I hear like a caress in my ear.