Not So Snow White

by Donna Kauffman

Chapter 12

  Aurora settled in one of the high-hack chairs facing the massive fireplace in Sir Robin's parlor. "I still think we should have told him ourselves. Poor Gaby. He's not going to be happy about this." Aurora sipped her sherry and sighed a little. "Stubborn man. If he'd only open his eyes, he'd see what a wonderful job you've been doing with her."

  "Trust me, I tried to get Gaby to let me do it. It's genetic, that stubborn trait. And she's had many years of handling him under her belt. She'll deal with it the right way."

  "You'll have to pardon an old lady's befuddlement, but I simply do not understand what there is to 'handle' about this whole endeavor. He should be grateful you're willing to step in and help her out. Most players would kill for such an advantage."

  "I've explained his concerns to you."

  Aurora sniffed and waved a heavily ringed hand. "Honestly. Men. When it was McEnroe or Connors, everybody smiled affectionately and called them rascals. A woman knows her own mind and goes after what she wants and she's some kind of she-devil."

  Tess paused midsip and smiled rather wryly. "Yes, well, you can't honestly say I didn't deserve at least some of the names they tagged me with. But you're also right, a double standard does exist. Why do you think John has a commentating job and someone equally outspoken, like Martina, doesn't?"

  "Or like you, dear. Have you considered it?"

  "Let's just say no offers have been forthcoming," she replied with a laugh.

  Tess sounded as if none of that mattered to her, but Aurora knew differently. She still hadn't confronted Tess with her knowledge of the dire state of her financial affairs, She'd refused to allow Aurora to pay her as a Glass Slipper employee, but now that she'd agreed to work for the Fontaines, though briefly, there would be at least some income on the near horizon for her. It wouldn't be enough to save her in any sense, but it would buy her some time. Aurora so wished she had contacts to help Tess out, and though she knew plenty of people, in this instance, she was somewhat hamstrung. She couldn't force anyone to offer Tess an endorsement deal. And with Tess no longer playing, there was nothing really to sponsor.

  Watching Gaby and Tess work together, as she'd gotten the chance to do the day before—my, what a fiery duo they could be!—she couldn't help but hold on to the hope that their partnership would continue beyond this one event. She knew that in the eyes of her peers, it would be something of a humbling experience for Tess to become a full-time coach, but she couldn't help but think that maybe that could be the niche that Tess so needed. Something that would ground her, something she could really care about. And to hell with what anyone thought.

  "Which, to be honest," Tess added, "is probably a wise decision. Putting a mike on me during a live match could be risky. I'd get all involved and who knows what would pop out of my mouth. Politically correct, I'm not. I'd be the reason the sports world would have to adopt the five-second delay."

  "Oh, pish posh. Perhaps if more people spoke up and told it like it is, the world would be a better place."

  Tess sipped her drink. "Oh, I agree. But don't hold your breath."

  Aurora sniffed. "If the public can handle Mr. McEnroe as a commentator, they can handle the likes of you."

  "You're the one who brought up the double standard. Outspoken men making blunt statements are viewed as visionaries of the sport. Women, on the other hand? Hey, we're just supposed to smile sweetly and look really hot in our cute little tennis outfits."

  Aurora looked rather pointedly at Tess's skimpy hot-pink spandex tennis shorts and a fuzzy lime-green sweater. The sleeves of which were so long they almost completely covered her hands, a fashion look Aurora was aware of, even if she didn't understand it. Aside from getting in one's way, it not only threatened to trail through a dinner plate, but it also hid one's hands. And all those lovely ring fingers. Ah, well. Youth.

  She supposed she should have been thankful Tess had attempted to accessorize. Though using the term in these circumstances was being quite generous. Tess had conceded to the evening chill that was ever present in Wexley House by adding a pair of matching fuzzy lime-green socks. At least she'd managed to color coordinate. Everyone had to start somewhere.

  "Well, dear," Aurora said, meeting Tess's amused gaze, "you definitely did your part on the latter. Some of your tennis togs—what there was of them—raised more than an eyebrow."

  Tess spluttered a short laugh, then raised her glass up in toast. "Girls just want to have fun. I always thought the world looked at our sport as something played by stuffy old people at overprivileged, private dub courts. I was simply trying to bring a little excitement to the game. It's an intense, demanding sport played by top-peak athletes and I just think we should celebrate that. We're not all pristine white dresses and perky ponytails."

  "Mission accomplished, I dare say."

  "Thank you." She laughed again. "And it's not like I was the first. Andre with his long hair and radical 'image is everything' personality started the revolution, but then he grew up, got married, shaved his head, and got all serious about his game. I proved you could be serious and an exciting trendsetter. And look at the women out there today. Shoot, Serena took what I did and exploded with it." She winked. "We're hot and happening now, baby."

  "Perhaps you should consider designing your own line of tennis wear? Your delightful new sister-in-law could probably help you with that."

  But Tess merely waved her drink at Aurora. "Serena has that corner covered. They're not interested in a has-been like me."

  Aurora made a very unladylike snorting noise." 'Has-been.' Hardly. You sell yourself far too short."

  "Hell, I can't sell myself in any fashion," Tess said, then quickly took a sip of her drink.

  Aurora leaned forward. It was the perfect opening, the one she'd been hoping for these past few evenings. "You know, Tess, I've been meaning to talk to you—"

  The rest of her sentence was cut off when the double doors to the parlor were pushed open and Phillip, Sir Robin's major-domo, leaned in. "Ever so sorry to interrupt, madam, but you have a guest." He glanced over his shoulder. "Mr. Max Fontaine, He seems somewhat agitated. Would you like me to see him out?"

  Aurora's gaze connected with Tess's for a moment, then they both sighed. Well, the cat was officially out of the bag now. "No, Phillip, please show him in."

  Aurora stood. Tess stayed where she was, curled up in the chair closest to the low-banked fire. She raised a questioning brow, but Aurora supposed it didn't much matter how they faced him.

  He didn't so much walk into the room as stride into it. "Aurora, I'm sorry to intrude, but we need to talk. I'd like to speak to Tess as well, if—"

  "Present and accounted for," she said, lifting her drink high so it could be seen over the back of the chair.

  Max had come farther into the room and glanced in her direction, then did a double take. He opened his mouth, perhaps intending to comment on her psychedelic use of color in her wardrobe choices, but wisely closed it again.

  Aurora took his arm in hers and led him to the embroidered settee. "Max, darling, I know you might not be as enthusiastic as we are about Gaby and Tess teaming up, and I know we should have been the ones to approach you with this, but per Gaby's wishes, we let her handle it. I should let you know that while I'm sympathetic to your concerns, I'm afraid if you're looking for my support in dissolving that partnership, then—"

  "No, that's not why I'm here." He tossed a look to Tess. "Well, it is, but at the moment we have other, more immediate concerns."

  Now Tess sat forward and uncurled her long legs. Aurora sighed inwardly What she wouldn't have given for just an inch or two more leg. All those cocktail dresses she could have worn…

  "What 'immediate concerns'?" Tess asked. "Is Gaby okay? Did something happen in her workout session?"

  Max looked a little surprised at the sincere concern in Tess's tone.

  Good, Aurora thought. Once Max spent a little more time around her, he'd come to know what a loyal, decent person sh
e was and his concerns would diminish.

  Tess stood and walked over to the side table and poured herself another drink. "Or are you just here to give us some song-and-dance bullshit and be all Mr. Drama King as a way to get her out of working with me?"

  Or, on the other hand, Aurora amended, perhaps it was best to keep them apart as much as possible. Then she caught Max trying not to stare at Tess's snugly encased backside and her thoughts were turned upside down all over again. Of course, physical attraction was nothing new where Tess was concerned. But she had to admit, there was an undeniable combustible chemistry between the two of them. But perhaps she'd been too hasty in negatively labeling that volatile mix. Sometimes explosive chemistry was a good thing.

  My, my… now wouldn't that be interesting?

  "Care for a drink?" Aurora asked, sounding quite innocent, though her thoughts at the moment were anything but.

  Max instantly yanked his attention from Tess, and Aurora was quite pleased with the bit of color that rose to his cheeks. You're only supposed to help take care of Tess's financial needs, she reminded herself, maybe a few of her emotional ones, as well. You're not here to play matchmaker.

  Of course, the thought had taken hold now, the seed planted. She made a mental note to call Vivi later and discuss.

  "I'm fine," Max said.

  "Are you certain, dear? Your voice sounds a bit… gravelly."

  Max eyed Aurora for a moment, but, being well practiced in the art, she was certain she appeared quite guileless.

  "Thank you, but no."

  "Oh, go ahead," Tess admonished. "Might loosen you up a bit."

  Max turned back to Tess. Aurora noticed his jaw twitch. "Just because I don't plan my day around happy hour doesn't mean I'm a—"

  "Tight ass?" Tess tilted her head, gave him a once-over, her gaze lingering on that particular part of his anatomy. "Although, I must admit…"

  Max held her gaze when she lifted it to his without so much as blinking, then when she merely raised her glass in silent toast, he pointedly looked back to Aurora. Who, in turn, just managed to hide her smile behind a sip of sherry.

  "And this is the influence you think is appropriate for a sixteen-year-old?" Max asked her.

  "Oh, come on," Tess interrupted. "Don't you think it's way past time to stop beating that poor, dead horse? You know, it's not like I have to be doing this. But I met your sister and I liked her. Be grateful for the assistance."

  "I didn't ask for your assistance. We were doing just fine without your inestimable help."

  "She can't keep a coach for more than two minutes and she's facing the second grand slam of her career with a first-round opponent that would make me sweat. But yeah, sure, why ask someone for help? Silly me."

  "I was working on getting her a coach. Trust me, there is no shortage of very talented people out there who want to work with her."

  "I'm quite sure of that, too. But that doesn't help you, much less her, right this very second. Play begins in forty-eight hours. Right now I'm her best bet in terms of getting her head where it needs to be. I'm not going to screw around with her game, but whether you like it or not, I know what she's thinking, how she's likely to handle this, and better yet, I know exactly what it's going to be like out there."

  "Not entirely, you don't," he muttered.

  But Tess was on a roll and didn't hear him. Aurora flashed a quick glance at Max, but any thought she might have given to that troubling aside was swept away as the volleys continued. It was rather like watching a tennis match, she thought, more amused than alarmed. Mostly because they both wanted the same thing: what was best for Gaby. So she would just sip her sherry and stand clear until the dust settled. She trusted that when that happened, they'd have a workable solution. Or she'd need to call for medical assistance.

  "You know, you tried to keep us from working together once before. And we see how well that panned out."

  "Exactly my point!" Max exploded. "It was one thing for the two of you to have a few chats in private. Working as her coach—*

  "I'm not exactly her coach. I'm just giving her a few court-strategy pointers, the benefit of my experience. A mentor."

  "Gaby said we're paying you a percentage, which means you're working for the Fontaines. I call that coaching."

  "She insisted." Tess shrugged.

  Aurora's attention sharpened. Tess was good, she'd give her that. All that court savvy, she supposed. To look at her right now you'd never know that she was all but financially destitute. Poor dear, Aurora wished there was a way to just put it all out there so everyone knew what was what. She was certain a reasonable solution to all their concerns could be achieved. But she also knew she couldn't betray Tess with revealing that kind of explosive information. Max was a good man, but Aurora wasn't entirely certain what he'd do with that bit of knowledge.

  So she bit her tongue and let the conversation continue, although admittedly she wasn't quite as amused by it all any longer.

  "You'll only have to tolerate my existence for a few weeks or until she's out of the tournament. I don't see the big deal."

  "The big deal is that she told an interviewer about you today."

  Now Tess crossed the room, her expression instantly all business. "She did what?"

  "That's what I came here to tell you."

  "What exactly did she say, dear?" Aurora asked, quite concerned. Her plans had barely started to come together, and now this.

  Max raked his hand through his hair, let out a breath. "Before the interview, she was telling me about her plan to have Tess coach her during Wimbledon."

  "Mentor," Tess put in immediately. "I'm just a mentor."

  Both Aurora and Max ignored her.

  "And your response was?" Aurora asked him.

  "I wasn't happy about it, which you all obviously knew or you wouldn't have been sneaking around behind my back all week."

  "We didn't 'sneak,' " Tess shot back. "We merely avoided confrontation. Besides, you gave Aurora carte blanche to help Gaby and you knew I was talking with her. So don't get your tighty whiteys in a knot."

  "Now, now," Aurora said, stepping in. Maybe she'd been wrong to think the agitation between these two was really just an overload of chemistry trying to sort its way out. For once, she really wished Vivian were here. She'd toss out a few clever double entendres and the tension in the room would either dissipate, or implode. Either way they'd have their answer. Holding out a slender thread of hope that all her carefully initiated plans hadn't been dashed, she said, "Did she tell the interviewer Tess was coaching her? What exactly did she say?"

  "Yes," Tess chimed, "what exactly did she say? And what did you say to goad her into such a rash decision?"

  "Me?" Max said, eyebrows leaping in defense. "I stated my concerns with her plan—calmly and rationally—then told her I'd think about it."

  Tess rolled her eyes. "Which meant you were against it."

  "Which meant I'd think about it," he reiterated.

  Aurora saw the tic surface once again in his clenched jaw. He really had quite an attractive profile. Privately, with all those sparks shooting from his dark eyes? She thought he was quite something. If she'd been a few decades younger… well, no point in going there.

  "Not to a teenager, trust me. She did what she thought she had to do in order to get what she knew she needed to have going into this tournament. She was only doing what had to be done because you're too stubborn and overprotective to see it yourself."

  Aurora snapped back to the matter at hand. "There is no point in bickering over this. What's done is done," she said calmly. "Now we have to determine what the result of this interview will likely be. When is it being printed?"

  "Originally it was slated to run Monday, the first day of the tournament. But no way is she holding back. She thinks we're talking to other journalists right now, so I know—"

  "Why would you tell her that?" Tess asked, incredulous. "Of course she'll rush to press with it, if they don't sell it to some o
ther media outlet first. All they need is some film of her and—" She stopped, and both she and Aurora looked at Max's expression. "No, you didn't. You let her take pictures? Film? My God, Max, why not just hand her the story on a silver platter?"

  "It was too late then," he told them. "The story was out. I had to get her out of there before she said anything else, which is why I told her we had another interview. It doesn't matter. I'm betting it'll be all over the place by tomorrow."

  "Hell, tonight's news, most likely," Tess exclaimed. "At this point every broadcast is pretty much all Wimbledon, all the time. It's the freaking Super Bowl over here. Something I don't have to tell you about." Suddenly she laughed, but there was a caustic edge to it.

  "What could be funny about this?"

  "Nothing, really. It's just that here you are all worried about my supposed impact on all this and who goes and screws it all up and leaks it to the press? You."

  "I didn't say anything, Gaby sabotaged—" He broke off, pinched his fingers on the bridge of his nose. "This isn't getting us anywhere." He looked up, his expression set in stone. "Regardless of who said what to who—"

  "Whom," Tess supplied, with an ever-so-helpful smile.

  Max's jaw was clenched so tight, Aurora was surprised his molars weren't ground into dust. "Whatever. What matters is that your presence in her life, no matter your intention, is about to get her dragged right into the sticky hands of the media hounds. Right before the toughest first-round match of her life."

  "Listen," Tess broke in. "There will be other grand slams, there will be other Wimbledons in her future. If you're so freaked out by all this, then yank her from the tournament."

  He said nothing.

  "We both know Gaby can handle this. We also both know, at least if one of us would be willing to be honest with himself, that she is going to be a superstar, with or without my help. She will be facing this type of intense media scrutiny for a very long time. And of course it never starts at a 'good time,' if there is such a thing, because if she was playing the Dubai Open in the middle of freaking nowhere, and I was hanging around, no one would give a flat damn. It's only because it is Wimbledon, because it's a grand-slam event, that anyone cares. Whenever she hit the spotlight, for whatever reason she hit it, it wasn't going to be when no one was watching. It's only newsworthy when a lot of people care. So why don't you just accept the fact that now is her time and try and figure out how to use this to your best advantage." She stalked back over to the bar and made herself another drink. "And if there is anyone around here who knows a little something about how to do just that, it's yours truly."