CHAPTER 13 #2
The door clicked open without a knock, and Maddie was holding two bottles of coconut water. She kicked it shut behind her with the heel of her trainer, sunglasses still perched on her head even though the sun had long set.
“Brought you hydration and unsolicited opinions,” she said, tossing one onto the bed.
I caught it with my good hand. “Should I be worried?”
“Depends.” She plopped down in the armchair. “One: your wrist needs a break, which means no racquet for three days maximum. Two: You just landed another endorsement. That energy drink company finally sent through the contract.”
My brows lifted. “Seriously?”
“Seriously. They even want to film part of the ad here in the States, so congratulations, you’re about to fake-drink something neon while smiling through questionable flavor choices.”
I groaned. “Fantastic. I can already feel my teeth dissolving.”
Maddie smirked. “Which brings me to point three: you’re officially in rest mode. No sneaky cardio disguised as ‘light stretching.’ You need to occupy yourself, and I vote… dating.”
“Dating?”
“Yeah,” she said, leaning forward conspiratorially. “You’ve got days to be a normal human. Go for coffee with someone. Dinner. Meet a nice Ohioan who doesn’t know your backhand stats.”
I snorted, leaning back. “Maddie, you know I don’t have time for that.”
My calendar was so crammed that sometimes even calling home felt like an Olympic sport. Free time didn’t exist; it had to be stolen. And if Maddie knew just who I’d been “stealing” it for lately…
Her eyes narrowed, her grin sharpening like she’d sniffed out gossip. “Ohhh. That face. That’s not a leave me alone, I’m tired face. That’s a guilty secret face.”
I tried to play it cool, taking a deliberate sip from my water bottle. “What face?”
“The one you make when you’re pretending you’re not ridiculously pleased about… something. Or someone.” Maddie tilted her head, intrigued, like she was piecing together a puzzle I hadn’t meant to leave out. “So? Who’s got you looking like that?”
“It’s just my normal face.”
She scoffed. “Liv, your normal face is ‘please don’t talk to me until I’ve had a physio appointment.’” She gestured broadly at my very much not-normal expression.
I felt heat flicker up my neck. “You’re being dramatic.”
“Absolutely.” She crossed her arms. “Start talking.”
“It’s just… I’ve got lunch planned with Alex Cadiz.”
Her eyes practically sparkled, like she’d just stumbled onto the juiciest gossip of the year. “Ooooh, now that’s interesting,” she teased, leaning in as if I’d just handed her front-row tickets to a scandal.
I rolled my eyes. “It’s just lunch, Maddie. We had this bet, and since I retired, she won. Her condition is that I have to treat her to lunch.”
Her grin widened, her eyes practically sparkling with mischief. “Uh-huh. ‘Just lunch.’ Right. You do realize how date-coded that sounds, yeah?”
“Don’t start Maddie.”
She hugged a pillow to her chest like I’d just confessed to a forbidden romance. “You have half the tour, celebrities, and several Olympians sliding into your DMs. Don’t even get me started on the verified ones.”
Heat crept into my cheeks before I could stop it. “That’s different. That’s just people being… people on the internet.”
She arched a brow, all-knowing and far too entertained. “Right. And Alex Cadiz asking you to lunch is also ‘just people being people’? Liv, come on.”
“Look, Alex just picked lunch because she doesn’t have that many people she actually talks to on tour, okay? She’s… Alex. She keeps to herself. And she’s trying, you know? She just wants to be friends.”
Maddie snorted. “Friends.”
“I’m serious,” I insisted, even though my voice sounded a shade too defensive. “And besides, who am I to say no to lunch with a Cadiz? Anyone would fight for that lunch.”
Maddie held up her hands in surrender, lips twitching.
“Okay, okay, fine, you’ve got a point.” She leaned back against the sofa, but the smirk never left her face.
“But... I still expect a full report after this little… lunch.” She wiggled her eyebrows.
“You know. The one that’s absolutely not a date. ”
I shot her a flat look. “It’s not.”
“Mm-hm. Totally,” she said, nodding far too aggressively. “Just two incredibly attractive athletes sharing a meal, probably sitting way too close, pretending the air isn’t weirdly charged. Super platonic.”
I threw a cushion at her. “Shut up.”
She only laughed, catching it with one hand. “I’m just saying, if you come back looking like that again, don’t expect me not to ask questions.”
“You’re an absolute menace.” I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t help but smile.
“And you,” she said, pointing at me, “are absolutely telling me everything.”
·····
I stepped into the café Alex had suggested. It wasn’t far from the hotel where most of the players stayed, and I had to admit the atmosphere was exactly what I needed. Comfortable, low-key, with just enough hum of life to feel alive without the chaos of fans or the sterile hush of a lobby.
But the place was empty. Completely empty.
Not a single customer in sight, even though it was the middle of the day.
Just the staff behind the counter, moving at an unhurried pace like this was perfectly normal.
The café felt almost private, a rare gem where the barista probably knew everyone’s order but hopefully not my name.
I was dressed down: comfy jeans, a cropped top, a cap pulled low, and oversized shades. Not exactly a disguise, but close enough. I knew fans could recognize me anywhere (apparently even from my walk, according to Maddie), but here, I hoped for at least some anonymity.
Just then, Alex slipped in. I nearly laughed out loud. She was rocking oversized sunglasses, a baseball cap pulled low, a hoodie, and sweatpants. Between us, we looked less like professional athletes and more like we were about to film a low-budget heist movie.
I raised an eyebrow as she slid into the seat across from me. “Incognito much?”
She pulled off her shades with a smirk. “Please. This is peak casual. If I were really going undercover, I’d add a fake mustache.”
“I could pop into the corner shop and get one in under five minutes. Hardly a challenge.”
Alex leaned back, grinning. “Wouldn’t be the weirdest pre-lunch activity you’ve roped me into.”
I snorted. “You’ve known me all of five minutes, Cadiz. What kind of chaos do you think I’m planning?”
“The dangerous kind,” she said without hesitation, tapping the table like it was obvious. “You say things all calm and understated, then suddenly I’m in the middle of an adventure I didn’t sign up for.”
I narrowed my eyes but couldn’t stop the smile tugging at my lips. “You mean like agreeing to a simple bet that somehow turns into a lunch date?”
“Exactly.” She flashed a too-innocent look.
Our waitress arrived with two steaming lattes, each topped with intricate leaf art, and avocado toast stacked high with cherry tomatoes, feta, and a drizzle of olive oil.
Alex gave a slow, satisfied nod when the plates landed, looking smug enough that I half expected her to claim she’d made the food herself.
Before I could tease her, a woman in a neat black apron approached, clearly the manager. She clasped her hands together, eyes bright with recognition.
“Miss Cadiz,” she said warmly, “Everything is all set. We’ve prepared all the best sellers you requested.”
She hesitated, her smile stretching into something a little more starstruck. “And, um—just so you know, we’re all massive tennis fans. The staff in the back practically screamed when they realized you were the one who booked the place.”
Then her gaze flicked to me, eyes brightening even more. “And when we heard Olivia Smythe would be joining you…” She pressed a hand to her chest, laughing softly. “Well, let’s just say half the kitchen had to take a minute. You’ve got quite a fan club here.”
Alex just lifted a polite smile, as if this was standard protocol for her.
I cleared my throat, suddenly aware of how warm my face felt. “That’s… really lovely to hear,” I said, offering her a small, genuine smile. “Please tell them I appreciate it. And thank you for looking after us.”
The manager turned to me, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “I have to admit, I was shocked when she booked out the entire café for lunch. Middle of the day! I thought she was joking.” She laughed lightly. “But we’re all thrilled. Anything else you need, just let us know.”
With one last bright smile, she gave a polite nod to both of us before slipping away toward the counter, preparing whatever Alex had requested.
“You rented out the whole place?” I stared at Alex.
She shrugged, completely unfazed. “It’s quieter this way.” She took a sip of her latte like she hadn’t just admitted to something outrageous. “And they make better food when they’re not rushed.”
I could only shake my head, fighting a smile. “Perfectly normal behaviour.”
She arched a brow. “You say that like you wouldn’t do the same if you could.”
“Rent out an entire café?” I scoffed. “I’d die of embarrassment before I even finished dialing.”
“You’d get over it,” she said, leaning back in her chair. “You like quiet more than you admit.”
I narrowed my eyes at her. “You think you know what I like now?”
“I just know that when you walked in and saw all the empty tables, you felt relaxed,” Alex said, tone maddeningly calm. “That counts as evidence.”
I tried for another eye-roll. “Or maybe,” I countered, “I simply don’t enjoy being stared at while I’m trying to eat.”
“Exactly.” She lifted her hands like she’d just proven a theorem. “Which is why I made sure there would be no staring. Just food.”
“That’s one way to justify a whole-café takeover,” I muttered.
While we waited for the rest of our order, she leaned back in her chair, fingers drumming against her latte cup.