by Anna Albo
It was awkward, me standing there, so I took my bag and went to our room. What did I do? I hadn’t expected this development. I slowly unpacked, wondering if I should go for groceries or hide in our bedroom forever. Was I happy to see him? Yes. But I couldn’t stop thinking about the video. I hated that I couldn’t separate him from it. Instead of facing Zach, I changed, got my tennis gear and headed for the front door.
“I’ll be back in a few hours,” I said casually. “See you later.”
I hated myself for escaping, but I didn’t know how to handle it. The tennis club was easy even if it meant spending a second with Ben. In a few days we’d be starting our classes and I could pretend to be busy at the club even though I was fully prepared for the eight classes a week that were scheduled.
Ben was in the office when I got there. I set down my backpack and peeled off my jacket and boots. He was at the desk working on the computer. He glanced up at me and continued typing.
“Howdy, Emma.”
I wrinkled my nose. “You’re in a good mood.”
“We are both fully booked. The last few stragglers signed up today.”
“That must make Marc happy.”
“I haven’t told him yet. I thought I’d mention it tomorrow.”
“How were your holidays?” I asked. I didn’t care, but since he was being nice, I thought I’d return the favor.
“Not bad. And you? What did your pretty boy boyfriend get you?”
“We didn’t exchange anything this year. No big deal,” I said, trying to act casual even though my voice pitched.
Ben’s grey gaze lifted again from the computer screen. He looked at me for a long time and I could feel myself shrinking. “Still trouble in paradise?”
“No,” I said too quickly.
“None of my business anyway. But I did do Genie Walker’s evaluation.”
He stopped and I took that as a sign he wanted me to beg him to continue.
“And?”
“I’m pretty sure she doesn’t need tennis classes, so that makes me wonder.”
Again, he stopped for the dramatics. I considered letting him hang and moving onto another subject, but I was too intrigued.
“Okay?”
“If she’s taking classes for some other reason.”
Ugh. I hated this guy. “Look, either spit out what you have to say, or I’m out of here.”
“Fine, fine. I think she’s spying.”
“And how long did it take you to come up with that, genius?”
His eyebrows rose in surprise. “So you think she’s spying too?”
“Yes, but I don’t know why.”
“What I do know is that I think she’s into me. So that could be a potential problem.”
He was serious. He was so into himself that he couldn’t possibly believe that Genie wasn’t. “In to you? Genie? Nope. Sorry to let you down.”
“She totally wanted me.”
I slowly shook my head. “You’re delusional.”
“I’m going to have to tell her it has to be strictly professional.”
“Right. You do that.”
I was going through schedules and other paperwork when he piped up again.
“Since you’re here and I’ve got nothing to do, want to hit the court?” he asked. “I could use a bit of a challenge. And I promise not to make you look bad out there.”
I fought the smile threatening to form on my lips. “All right. I’ll see you out there in ten minutes.”
Smashing balls at Ben was my kind of therapy. I met him on court three and we rallied for a few minutes to get ourselves warmed up.
“Best of three sets?” he asked.
“It’s hardly a fair match,” I said, jogging up to the net to meet him.
“I said I’d go easy on you.”
“No, I meant that I’d kick your ass.”
He laughed, flashing those perfect teeth of his. “You’re hilarious, Andrews. Are we going to do this or not?”
“Yeah, your funeral.”
I was kidding with him. There was no way it was going to be a fair match. I fully expected him to paste me in two sets and I’d be lucky to win a service game, but I needed to use up my energy. I still had to go home and face Zach and all the unknowns.
I served first. It was clear that Ben was going to be easy on me, but I was not about to do the same. I took my vengeance out on the ball, all my frustrations with Zach, Bianca and, to a lesser extent, Meredith. The first few serves and my returns caught him off guard and I actually took my first service game.
“So we’re going to do this?” he asked. “Really?”
“Do what you have to, Morrow.”
“You were warned, Andrews.”
His first serve hit the line and sailed past me. I switched ends of the court and moved a little further back. Once again, his serve zoomed past me. He was not going to get another past me. He threw up the ball and hit it full force. I managed to make contact, but it went straight into the net.
“How are you doing over there, Andrews?”
“Fine,” I said, and waved when I really wanted to give him the finger.
His next serve didn’t have as much heat and I was able to return it. From there we hit some baseline shots back and forth until I sent one skidding down the line and out of his reach.
He smirked as he grabbed the ball and prepared to serve for the game. I watched closely as the ball flew into the air and his racket made contact. I guessed right and sent the ball right back at him, catching him flat-footed. He tried to recover but the ball went sailing into the air and past him.
“Looks like we’re making a game of it, Morrow.”
He aced his next serve and took the game.
I tried to keep the set close but he was better than me, even though I knew he was easing up. The second set I managed to win a few games and had him on the ropes during his set game. By then a group of members had hung around to watch. Some even clapped during one of our more intense rallies. Both of us were sweating now, and I realized I hadn’t worked this hard since my old competitive days.
Ben took the final game and I met him at the net to congratulate him. We shook hands and that’s when he put his arm around my shoulders and gave me a hug.
“Good match, Andrews,” he said.
“I still hate you,” I said and laughed.
“Want to get some drinks? Maybe you could shower first?”
“Sure. I’ll meet you at the office, you ass.”
I showered and changed. I took a look at my phone and saw a text from Genie.
Genie: I hear you’re back. Are you coming home for dinner? Are you making us dinner? Zach is home. I’m hungry.
Me: Sorry, going out with a friend.
I put my phone away and met Ben back in the office. His wavy raven-colored hair was still damp and it looked good on him.
“It’s pretty cold. My grandmother always said I couldn’t go outside with wet hair.”
“I’m a rebel,” he said.
We walked to a lounge a block away from the club. Ben seemed to know the bartender as we took a table near the bar. “Beers okay?” he asked.
“I’m fine with that.”
“So tell me, Andrews,” Ben said, pushing the peanuts towards me, “for someone who’s so good, why’d you really quit?”
“After my grandma died, I quit. There’s nothing more to it.”
“Was it about a guy?”
“No. My grandma died. Nothing else.”
“No way. You were good. You don’t just walk away because your grandmother died.”
I cracked open a peanut shell. “Yes, you walk away for that reason.”
His eyes grew wide. “Seriously? I can’t get my head around that.”
“It was our thing and without her, it didn’t feel the same.”
“So you were scared?” he said, grabbing a handful of peanuts.
“No, I wasn’t scared.”
“Yeah, you were. You didn’t want to do it alone.
You threw your tennis career away.”
He said it casually and I could feel my blood boil. Why had I agreed to this? “Why are you always a jerk? I thought that maybe I was seeing a glimmer of someone who wasn’t a total asshole, but I guess I was wrong.”
A puzzled look washed over his face, then a small, sheepish smile formed. “Okay, I get it. I’m a bit abrasive. I don’t sugarcoat things, so I can see how I come off as an asshole. Look, I’ve been on my own a long time. The only way you get through that is by being tough and sometimes I don’t always know when I’m pissing someone off.”
“Well, you’re pissing me off,” I said, calming down a little. “You’re like most of the people in my life. You walk all over me, treat me like shit, or just ignore me. It’s the story of my life.”
He pressed his lips together and for the first time since he’d joined the Taylor Tennis Club, he had a sympathetic look on his face. “Okay, okay, let me try this again and I won’t be such a piece of shit this time. Emma, you’re a sweet girl. Too damn sweet. People treat you like shit because you let them. When I said you threw your tennis career away, I should have added that I think you walked away because you were scared of being on your own, having to do it alone. Having to deal with people who’d give you grief. And that sucks. You didn’t have the drive to continue. So what, right? You’re happy now. It doesn’t look like you have regrets.”
The server plopped down our beers and walked away. I grabbed mine and took a huge gulp. “No, I don’t have regrets. I loved tennis, but not enough to pursue it like you did. At the same time, I admire you for chasing your dreams.”
He cradled his beer and laughed. “Chasing my dreams? That’s hilarious. When I left Minnesota, I was on top of the world. A few weeks in Florida and reality hit. There were at least a couple dozen other guys who were better than me. I had to step up my game big time. I lived and breathed tennis to go pro and never even cracked the top two hundred. You fall off your pedestal pretty fast and the landing hurts like hell.”
“Why did you come back here? You could have kept playing.”
“The writing on the wall had neon lights flashing all around it. I couldn’t keep up with the pace, and injuries were creeping up on me. I walked away ranked two hundred and sixty-fifth in the world.”
“When you think about it, there are how many people on this planet? Six billion? Only two hundred and sixty-four were better than you.”
He grinned. “Man, you’re too sweet. People must take advantage of you all the time.”
I threw him a warning glance. “You’re being a jerk again.”
“It wasn’t an insult . . . per se. As an outsider looking in on your life, I’d say you led a sheltered existence. Your life experience is limited. You might be a little naïve. Too forgiving. Willing to take more shit than you have to. Am I right?”
Ben was good. “Some of that might be right.”
“You’ve got to toughen up, Emma. Life is going to throw a lot of shit your way.”
“Maybe, but you’re an over-the-top asshole.”
“I will wear that with a badge of honor.”
We ordered burgers and fries from the limited menu and another round of beers. When I tried to pay, Ben refused.
“It’s on me. It’s the least I can do for giving you so much grief.”
“Thanks,” I said. “I’ll get it next time.”
“Do you want me to give you a ride home?”
“I can take the bus. It’s no big deal.”
“I insist.”
I dreaded going home. Maybe that’s why I stretched my evening out with Ben for more than two hours. Going home meant dealing with my life and figuring out what I was going to do. As we reached my building, Ben let out a long whistle.
“Nice digs.”
“The apartment belongs to the Walkers.”
“How did you meet Walker?”
“Through an ex-friend. We also go to Western together.”
“He’s a lucky guy. Make sure he doesn’t corrupt you like all those other politicos.”
“Right. I’ll tell him that.”
“I’ll be a gentleman and walk you to your door.”
Weird. I’d never put gentleman and Ben Morrow in the same sentence. “Uh, sure, okay.”
“Have you been with Walker a while?”
“About a year,” I said, punching my code into the keypad. “Do you want to come up or something?” Because that wouldn’t totally be awkward.
“Me? No, no. Just wanted to see how the rich and privileged live.”
“You can come up if you want to,” I said, even though I knew what a terrible idea it was. And then I thought of Heather. The girl Zach briefly dated to make me insanely jealous. Nope, I wasn’t sinking to that level.
“Maybe just the lobby?”
“You’re strange, Morrow.”
“I have a thing for architecture and design. I wanted to pursue it after tennis, but I don’t exactly have a college fund. I’m curious what tile they used and color scheme.”
Was he for real? “Sure.”
We stepped into the lobby and he did a full three-sixty. “They used a lot of greyish browns. It accents the tiles perfectly. I wonder what a place like this goes for.”
“I have no idea.”
“Hey, what are you doing down here?” a voice asked, making me jump nearly ten feet.
Genie had come through the side entrance and stopped, staring at both of us. “Oh, hi, Genie. This is Ben. Well, you know Ben. He was giving me a ride home. We went for beers and a bite to eat, but that’s all. And he wanted to see the building because he’s into architecture.” I could not shut up. My brain was screaming to stop, but I kept babbling. “Yeah, so that’s it. He’s a friend.”
Ben and Genie’s eyes were glued on each other. I knew what she was thinking and the first chance she’d get, she’d tell Zach all about it. This wasn’t good. No, it was worse; it was a disaster.
“Well, hello again, Ben,” she said.
“Nice to see you. You ready for our class next week?” He was so cool and I was sweating so much I was about to soak through my sweater.
“You say you’re into architecture. You’ve never mentioned that before. What are your thoughts on the possibility that the Stafford Theatre might be demolished?”
She was testing him!
“It’s a sad situation. The owner has intentionally allowed that building to crumble and decay. It’s no secret he wants to tear it down. It’s an architectural gem that we’re going to lose if he doesn’t get it up to code, but what incentive does he have?”
The corners of Genie’s lips turned upwards. His answer appeared to impress her. “One day we’ll have to get together and discuss it further. I’m in architectural engineering.”
“Not many girls go into architectural engineering. Good for you.”
Genie’s eyes narrowed. “Excuse me? Girl? I’m a lady.”
“Right, that was inappropriate.”
My eyes darted from Genie to Ben. Was she going to punch him in the face, or accept his half-hearted apology?
“Yes, inappropriate. Glad you realized it.”
“I should be off. Nice seeing you, Genie. Emma, I’ll see you around.”
I suppose it could have gone worse. As Genie and I walked to the elevator I waited for the inquisition to begin.
“He’s cute,” was all she said while we waited. “A cute asshole.”
“He’s all right. You won’t mention this to Zach, right? It’s really no big deal.”
“No, of course not.”
Could I believe her? Probably not. “It’s nice that he’s back. He’s insisting on the sofa and I feel really bad about that.”
She turned to me. “One way to solve that is to invite him back into the bedroom.”
Her brown eyes had a coldness to them, like she resented me for not forgiving Zach and moving on. If it was that easy, I would have done it already. I sensed the tension between us as she unlocke
d the front door. Mercifully the apartment was empty and the note on the dining room table from Zach said he’d be out with Brett for the evening. For the first time ever, I didn’t want to be around Genie. I went to my room, pulled out a book and fell asleep.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Zach
Emma left early for school the next morning. I didn’t have class for a few hours so I stretched out as best I could and tried to relax, but I was so on edge. I guess I expected something to happen right away, for Emma to be happy I was back, but it was just like before I’d left and I couldn’t help but feel the letdown. Eventually, I got up and folded the lone blanket I was using and set it on the chair no one ever sat in. I wandered into the kitchen and noticed that Emma had made coffee before she left. I poured myself a cup, wiped the sleep from my eyes and stretched to get out all the kinks.
Genie’s bedroom door opened and she was in the kitchen moments later. She frowned, no doubt pitying me and my situation. She grabbed a mug and poured her own cup of coffee.
“How’s the sofa?” she asked.
“It’s going to kill my back, but other than that, it’s just like the Ritz.”
“You’ve got competition.”
My eyebrows creased. “For the sofa?”
“No, loser. Your girlfriend.”
I was about to sip my coffee and stopped. “What are you talking about?”
“I deliberated long and hard whether I should tell you or not, but I think you deserve to know, and to fight for your girlfriend.”
A hard, painful knot was forming in my stomach.
“Genie, what the fuck are you talking about?”
“Ben Morrow.”
I set down my cup. “Shit,” I muttered. I should have seen this coming and it made me want to throw up.
“I came home a few nights ago and they were hanging around in the lobby together. Sounds like they went out to eat and he drove her home. He used some ruse to get into the building. The guy knows his shit about architecture and design, but I don’t think that’s why he wanted to see the inside of our building, if you know what I mean.”
I took a few deep breaths in a losing battle to calm myself. “How was Emma?”
“Nervous and fumbling. Honestly, Zach, I couldn’t read her. I’m not sure if that’s because she was caught with the guy, or because she was worried I’d jump to conclusions, which I did, of course.”