11 Cora #2
“That’s what they tell me.” He hit the ball back. She had to jump to slam it back down on him, but she did. He stood and watched
it fly by without any hope of returning it. “Nice shot.”
It was her turn to grin. “Thanks.”
“I’m going to have to step up my game.”
“Don’t hurt yourself.” She winked. Giving him a hard time shouldn’t be this fun. She was almost going to miss it when they
were through.
The thought made her pause. Of course she wasn’t going to miss it. The whole point of this dating exercise was to prove that
she didn’t need anyone. She shook off that train of thought and grabbed two more balls from the basket next to the net, one for her
pocket and one to serve.
She took up her position at the serving line, and Jax got ready to receive.
“What fun facts about me did you pick up from the rumor mill?”
She served. “That you might be an art thief.”
He laughed and sent the ball to the opposite side of the court from where she was. She had to dive to reach it, but her stroke
sent the ball well out of bounds. Not one of her finer moves.
“And what do you think?” he asked.
“I think that was a lucky shot, and if I hadn’t been flat-footed I wouldn’t have missed it.”
He gave a thoughtful nod. “Fair evaluation. But I meant about the art thief thing.” He held the ball up to ask if she was ready for the serve.
She nodded. Once again, the ball came flying over the net with an impressive spin. If she weren’t trying to get this guy to
ditch her, he would make a great doubles partner.
She returned the ball to him. “Seems like an interesting...” She barely got the words out before she had to sprint across
the court to make the play. “Profession,” she finished.
“Most of the time,” he answered as he returned the ball. They went back and forth three more times before he finally slammed
a shot to the back corner out of her reach.
Even she had to admit when she had been outplayed. This guy was good. “Nice shot.” She paused to wipe away the sweat beading
on her forehead. “Clearly art thieves have plenty of time to play pickleball.”
He shrugged. “There’s a lot of downtime.”
“Naturally.”
He got ready to serve again. “One-four.”
She was determined to stop it here. No way was she going to let him run up the score. She returned the ball with such perfect
placement, there was no way he could get to it.
“Wow, that one was waspish,” he said, clearly impressed.
She gave him a smirk. “Be careful of my sting.”
“Apparently there’s a lot of time for pickleball in the world of photography, too.” He spun the paddle in his hand as he waited
for her serve.
She grabbed another ball and took her spot. “Some, I suppose.” She bounced the ball in front of her a few times to get ready
for the serve while he wiped his face and resumed his position.
She served and got a quick point, then got ready to serve again.
“What kind of photography? Wedding?”
“No. Too many emotions. Five-one.” She served.
“Family portraits?” he asked as soon as he sent it back.
“No. Too much. Talking.” The words seemed to come out punctuated between breaths as she scrambled to return the ball. Although she was too slow and Jax was ready for her at the net. As soon as her lob got to him, he slammed it back down, winning the ball back.
“I know. Don’t you hate it when people talk too much?”
She wiped her forehead on the back of her arm. “Probably not a problem in the art thief world.”
“Not when we’re getting the job done, anyway. One-five.”
He served and got the next two points before she won the ball back. She grabbed a ball and slowly made her way back to the
serving line, giving herself plenty of time to catch her breath. If neither of them could score more than one or two points
before losing the serve—if they scored at all—this had the potential to be a very long game.
“Back to your photography,” he said as he lined up on his side of the court. “What kind?”
Break time over.
“Commercial.” She served. “On the marketing side.”
He focused on returning the ball before he spoke again. “Like those beauty shots of food that make things look too good to
be true?”
“Beauty shots, yes.” She sent the shot back over. “Food, no. Too fussy. It’s always melting and drooping.”
“You have a lot of opinions,” he said as he sent the ball in her direction. As anticipated, she was able to hit it down at
the net. It bounced twice on his side, then rolled to his feet.
She beamed, more than a little satisfied with the shot. “I just know what I like.”
He picked up the ball and held it up with an impressed nod. “I respect that.” He tossed it to her.
But would he really? She took the ball back to the serving line.
“And you own your own business?” he asked.
“Of course. I’m not really a ‘work for the man’ kind of person. Although you of all people should understand that.” It was
a bit of a taunt because if he weren’t actually an art thief, what did he do? And seriously, there was no way she was playing
pickleball with an international criminal...
Was there?
“Don’t kid yourself, I very much work for the man. Although to be fair, I have just as many women bosses as men bosses, so I think it’s more accurate to say I ‘work for the human.’”
“Interesting. So you don’t get to decide what you take?”
“Oh, I can decide if I take it or not. Just what’s up for grabs is not always up to me.”
“I hate when that happens.”
“You have no idea.”
Okay, now he was starting to make her nervous.
She served, trying to focus on the task at hand. Besides, who cared what he did? She was just here for the breakup.
“But I have big aspirations to be the man.” He returned the ball with perfect precision. “And then I’ll be the one calling
the shots.”
She sent the ball back over the net. “Is that what they call the kingpin?”
“Something like that.” He grinned, which momentarily distracted her. He returned the ball to the far side of the court where
she had zero chance of being able to get to it. And since it was hot and she was already out of breath, she didn’t even budge
in that direction.
Dang him and his annoyingly attractive grin.
“And what would be your first move as kingpin?” she asked, trying to push his handsome features out of her mind.
He shook his head. “Nope. Not going there until it happens. I don’t want to jinx it.”
“Fair enough. In that case, how about we play some pickleball.” She wiped her forehead on her arm again and dropped into the
ready position.
“Now you’re speaking my language.” He winked. “Four-six.”
They finished out the game with less talking. It was close, but in the end, she won with a score of eleven to eight.
She walked to the net with her paddle extended. “Good game.”
He joined her and tapped his paddle against hers. “You, Cora Prestly, are impressive.”
“You sound surprised.”
“Pleasantly.” He stared at her for a second with a look she couldn’t quite interpret. “Best two out of three?”
“Sure. But we’re not going to need three.”
He chuckled. “We’ll see about that. But first, what would you say to a hydration break?”
“I’d say yes please, because I’m convinced the surface of the sun is not as hot as this court.”
“I think you’re right.” He waved her over to the benches, where he pulled two ice-cold bottles of water from a cooler and
handed one to her.
At the exact time she took her first sip, her phone buzzed in her pocket, right on cue. She pulled it out and checked to see
who it was, as if she didn’t already know. “Sorry, I have to take this. Sister drama. Our group text was blowing up while
we were playing.” She held up the phone and nodded to the other side of the court. “You don’t mind, do you?”
“Not at all. It’ll give me time to revisit my strategy.” He swiped the icy bottle across his forehead. Once again, she momentarily
found herself distracted by the muscles in his toned arms. The dark stubble on his chiseled jawline. The way his blue eyes
seemed to dance every time he looked at her.
No.
No, no, no, no, no.
She was not attracted to this man.
She was here to destroy him on the pickleball court and to prove a point to her sisters. Just because he happened to have
above-average looks and she found him intriguing didn’t change her mission.
“In that case, I won’t ask for the abridged version. That’ll give you a little extra time to level the playing field.” She
winked to add a little sass and walked off, answering the planned call from her assistant on the way.
Beat him on the pickleball court, annoy him with all her personal drama, get him to break up with her. All she had to do was
stick to the plan.