Not So Snow White

by Donna Kauffman

  Which probably explained why, when she went to take her hand away and turn back to the match, he impulsively covered it with his, keeping it right where it was.

  Surprised, she looked first at their hands, then at him. "What?"

  Good question, really. "No signaling from the stands. She'll get called for coaching."

  "I wasn't sending her any signals. I wouldn't risk that."

  Now Max smiled. "You? You'd risk anything if you thought it would get you the win."

  "I'm not the one out there playing."

  "Are you sure about that?"

  She snatched her hand away then, and turned back to the game. When he just kept staring at her, she said, "Shut up and watch your sister return serve.''

  He'd intended his remark to be a teasing one. Hell, he hadn't known what he'd intended really. Regardless, it had clearly backfired. The thing about Tess that he admired was that, while she could dish it out, she took it just as well. Her verbal volleying skills were as sharp and well timed as her on-court volleys. She respected you more if you could hit a clean return winner.

  Obviously he'd just sliced one down the line that had managed to cut too close to something.

  "Yes!" she suddenly shouted, pumping her fist… and dragging his attention back where it should have been all along.

  Gaby had just earned a break point against Inge's opening serve of the second set. He shifted in his seat, attention riveted on the court… and yet simultaneously hyperaware of every inch of the woman seated next to him. He really had to do something about that.

  Inge's first serve pulled wide, so Gaby moved inside the baseline, anticipating a slower second serve.

  "Return deep and come in," Tess said under her breath.

  And, like they were somehow mentally linked, that's exactly what Gaby did.

  "Yes," Tess hissed, fist pumping against her knee as Gaby sliced a sharp angle crosscourt, causing Inge to dive to her left… and miss.

  Max applauded and found himself turning to Tess, sharing a celebratory grin and a quick high five. She smacked palms with him, then turned back to the match as Gaby prepared to serve. It took Max a second longer to do the same.

  Gaby held her service game with relative ease. She had a powerful serve, but wasn't always consistent with placement, and had a tendency to go for too much on the second serve, which had earned her more than a few double faults. But she was in her zone out there today and everything she hit, no matter the angle, just seemed, to find that sliver of space right inside the line.

  "Man, it sucks to be Hilstrom right about now," Tess said with surprising sincerity.

  Max glanced at her. "Compassion for the enemy?"

  Instead of getting prickly like she had last time, she smiled easily. That was more the Tess he knew. And it struck him then. He did know Tess Hamilton… and somewhere along the line, she'd ceased to be the spoiled, rebellious party girl and had become something far more complex. And interesting. And more than a little intriguing.

  "My opponent was never the enemy. She's just out there trying to do the same thing I am. The game is the enemy. Every ball, every point, you have a chance to do something, to use your skill to control the game. Sometimes your opponent is better at it than you are, is able to influence the outcome more than you can, but I never confused the two. Because opponents change. The game is always the game."

  Max just stared at her, felt the smile spread across his face.

  Her own lips quirked. "What? You afraid I'll teach Gaby to play the game and not her opponent?"

  He didn't say anything, just shook his head slightly and turned his attention back to the court.

  "People say you're enigmatic," she said, her tone teasing, "I think you just like jerking people's chains."

  He could see her staring at him from the corner of his eye. So, she thought he was enigmatic, did she? His smile grew a little and he nudged her knee with his own. "Watch the point, Gaby's serving again."

  He felt her gaze linger on him for another moment, then finally return to the game.

  The match grew more intense as Inge renewed her determination and held on to her serve, then went on to break Gaby's, putting her squarely back into the match.

  "Oh, dear," Aurora said, leaning forward to look at both Tess and Max. "She'll come back. You watch."

  Max had almost forgotten about the godmothers, he'd been so caught up in his back and forth with Tess.

  Vivian snapped her fan open and flicked it almost dismissively. "Hilstrom doesn't stand a chance. And honestly, she really should reconsider that hair color." She nudged Aurora. "We should talk with Valerie about working up something with the women's tour for next year during the grass-court season."

  "I believe I mentioned that almost a month ago. Of course, you want it to be your idea and, honestly, I don't care, but I've already spoken to Mercy about it and she's working up the figures. If you want to take all the credit, however, far be it for me to steal your beloved spotlight." Aurora gave a dismissive, albeit somewhat wounded little sniff.

  Vivian merely rolled her eyes. "Drama queen."

  "Spotlight stealer."

  Tess nudged Max's knee and the two of them shared dry smiles while the godmothers bickered.

  Fifteen minutes later, the second set was tied at six games all and once again they were in a tiebreaker. All eyes were riveted on the match.

  Gaby won the first point, then Inge went up two on her serve. Back and forth it went like that, neither player able to get a break to widen the margin to the necessary two points. At ten points all, Gaby finally found a corner shot that Inge couldn't reach, earning her a break point and her first chance to not only serve for the set, but for the match… and her place in the final four.

  Tess grabbed Aurora's hand with her right and Max's hand with her left, and squeezed. "Come on, Gaby!"

  Max squeezed back.

  Gaby's first serve appeared to be right on the center line, but was called wide. Rather than regroup and hit her second serve, Gaby immediately contested the call.

  "No, no, stay focused," Tess murmured,

  Max shot her a quick glance. "What? Wasn't it you who just said—"

  She shushed him. "Not now."

  He wasn't sure if she meant him, or Gaby.

  Inge stayed on the baseline and out of the ensuing argument.

  The crowd, solidly with Gaby now, began to grow a little restless and a few catcalls and whistles began to start up. The Brits loved their underdogs, but they had little tolerance for histrionics.

  "It was clearly on the line," Gaby insisted. "Do you need a new prescription for those glasses or what?"

  She made a dramatic gesture with her racket hand and Max thought for sure she was going to fling it. Which would have resulted in her losing the point and sending them back to the tiebreaker and, most important, giving Inge a renewed sense of purpose, along with the emotional edge.

  "Come on, Gabs, don't let it get to you now," he murmured. "One point, one point is all it will take."

  The chair umpire held his cool and remained impassive in the face of Gaby's glare, but she finally backed down and sauntered back to the baseline. She took extra time, asked for different balls from the ball girl, then carefully selected the one she wanted.

  "That's right," Tess urged quietly, "get your head together. Kill the ball, not the umpire."

  As tense as the moment was, Max found himself fighting a smile. "You teach her that particular maxim?"

  She just squeezed his hand harder and said nothing. A quick glance showed her face to be every bit as battle ready as Gaby's.

  He turned his attention back to the court and watched his sister bounce the ball on the grass surface. You can do it.

  Come on.

  She lofted the ball in the air, and it was as if every last person in the stands held their collected breath. She swung her racket with stinging precision and sent the ball screaming over the net. Kill the ball, indeed.

  Miraculously, Inge gu
essed right and stabbed her racket out just in time to make contact.

  Gaby was forced to run hard to the opposite end of the baseline, but made a blistering return.

  Inge was there, hitting it right back.

  "Pace it, pace it," Tess said. "Wait for your moment, keep her pinned back there."

  And once again, it was as if the two of them had some sort of mental lock. Gaby did exactly that, running Hilstrom from side to side like a master puppeteer, until she was finally given a short ball to come in on, which she did with a vengeance. A split second later it was over. Gaby had won. In straight sets. She was in the Wimbledon semifinals.

  Max and Tess leaped to their feet in exultation, pumping their fists at Gaby as she leaped about in the air. Then, as she jogged to the net to shake hands with her opponent, Max caught Tess up in an impulsive hug.

  Somehow, with her eyes shining up into his, smile beaming so wide with absolute joy, he couldn't help himself. He was lowering his mouth to hers before he even considered what the hell he was doing. Or more important, where. Even more shocking, she let him.

  Which, perhaps, was why it went on perhaps a tad too long as the stadium rocked and rolled around them.

  And it was a snapshot of that exact moment that ran next to Gaby's exultant leap in every paper in London the following morning.

  Chapter 22

  Confess, Tess!

  Aurora scanned the screaming headline of Good Day and smiled. "Clever," she said, pushing it aside to look at the next paper. And the next. All featuring the same photo of Max and Tess in a hard-to-deny passionate kiss. Now that was chemistry. She sipped her morning tea and waited for one or the other of them to descend and join her in Sir Robin's breakfast room, still debating how she wanted to handle things this morning.

  Gaby was the first to arrive. "Good morning, Aurora! Fantastic day, isn't it?" She all but skipped over to the sideboard where a buffet had been laid out for them, as it was every morning.

  Now here was someone who knew how to seize the moment, Aurora mused. If only Gaby could get her older sibling to do the same. Well, do more of the same, anyway. Max had made the first move, after all. "Why, yes it is," she agreed cheerfully. "I know we've gushed and gushed, but I must say it again, that was a tremendous victory yesterday, Gabrielle. We're all so proud of you."

  Gaby busily filled her plate until it was heaping. "God, I'm starving. I couldn't eat anything yesterday for fear I'd lose all of it. Then last night I just couldn't settle down enough, which is a shame since that was such a great restaurant Max found for out celebration dinner. Now I feel like I could eat a horse."

  Aurora paused in buttering a piece of toast, smiled briefly, and continued. "Well, you need to keep up your strength. Tomorrow is a big day, after all."

  "God, I know." She twirled around, somehow managing not to lose everything on her plate. "Semifinals, can you believe it? I'm still not believing it." Gaby pulled out the chair across from Aurora and flopped down. "Has Max been down here yet?"

  "No, not yet. Nor Tess."

  "She won't be here this morning," Gaby said, crunching a piece of bacon. "I thought you knew." She polished off that piece and two more, then washed it all down with a half a glass of orange juice.

  Oh, to be young and have that lovely metabolism again, Aurora thought with an inward sigh. "No, dear, I didn't. Has she already gone out? I thought she'd barely gotten in."

  Gaby nodded her head as she finished a buttered scone. "I was up early, couldn't sleep. I saw her heading out around seven. Said she had a meeting out at the grounds. Someone named Alan something or other." She shrugged. "Then she's going to watch Bobby and Tim play their match. I'm meeting her over there in between for some practice time. Then we might do a bit more here this evening when she gets back." When Aurora looked up, she added, "Don't worry, we have the second slot tomorrow, so I'll have plenty of time to rest."

  Aurora wisely said nothing, leaving that realm to Tess. She reached for the teapot and refilled her cup, unable not to notice that Gaby was all but vibrating while she ate. Maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea for her to burn some of that excess energy off. Just sitting across the table from her could exhaust a person.

  "So, has Max seen those yet?" Gaby asked around a bite of sausage. She reached across the table and slid one of the papers closer and skimmed the headlines.

  Aurora should have been more circumspect, she supposed, but it wasn't like Gaby was going to get through the day without seeing them anyway. And, after all, she'd been there to witness it firsthand. Last night over their celebration dinner, Gaby had been anything but shy in her attempts to goad Tess and Max into a reprise of the now infamous kiss. Of course, Aurora wasn't entirely sure Gaby's motives weren't a bit mixed.

  She really wished she'd had the chance to talk to Tess about Gaby's little conversation with her the other evening. She planned to talk to Max, too, as she'd promised Gaby she would, but she'd wanted Tess's input first. She'd hoped to find out a little bit more about the young man who'd caught Gaby's eye. However, they'd all headed off to dinner, with Tess and Max keeping about as much distance between them as humanly possible in a party of five. Disappointing, that. But Aurora wasn't about to let them safely retreat to opposite corners. Enough was enough. Tess had left straight from the restaurant, with Vivian in tow, and disappeared for the rest of the evening, and Max and Gaby had gone off to their wing shortly after arriving home.

  So Aurora had reluctantly let it go for the evening, thinking she'd have plenty of opportunity today. Now, however, that wasn't looking too promising, either. How on earth was she supposed to play matchmaker if half of her match kept disappearing on her? Perhaps she'd just have to corner Max for a few minutes at some point and have a little chat. With Gaby twenty-four hours away from playing in her first grand-slam semifinal, probably the last thing on her mind was Royce, or Ranee, or whatever his name was. But Aurora would feel better knowing she'd spoken to Max about it. Besides, it would give her an opportunity to work Tess into the conversation, get the lay of the land, so to speak.

  Feeling a bit cheerier about her day's prospects, she was just helping herself to a third scone when Max wandered in, fighting a yawn.

  "Hey there, sleepyhead. About time," Gaby told him as she scooted her chair back.

  Aurora was astonished to note that Gaby's plate was already empty. And she was heading back for seconds. Not an ounce of fat on her, either. Even as a teenager, Aurora had never been exactly willowy. Age hadn't helped in that department. She picked up her scone, then thought better of it and put it back on the tray with a resigned sigh.

  "Good morning," she said to Max. "You still look a bit weary. I suppose it was hard to unwind after all the excitement yesterday." She was referring to more than Gaby's spectacular win, and Max likely knew that. Aurora hadn't been exactly shy in nudging the two together the previous night, every chance she got. And Vivian had been downright shameless. Stubborn, those two. Why they were fighting this so hard, she had no idea. Seemed like the perfect match to her. Half of England thought so, too, if the papers were anything to judge by.

  Speaking of which, she noticed his gaze fall on the stack. She watched him closely, trying to gauge his mood as he skimmed over the top headline. Darn it, she wished Tess had stayed around this morning. Defenses were lower earlier in the day. Ah well, nothing worthwhile came easily, as the saying went.

  "Cute headline, I thought," Aurora ventured, when his expression remained unmoved. "Though I rather liked that 'Mad For Max' line they used earlier in the week. Cheeky, those Brits, eh?"

  "So are you going to ask her out or what?" Gaby said, now crunching apple slices.

  Max blinked and looked up, seemingly coming out of a momentary haze.

  That, at least, was promising, Aurora noted.

  "Ask who?"

  Gaby rolled her eyes. "Please. Tess, of course. Come on." She gestured to the papers. "You had her in a lip-lock in front of the entire country Don't tell me that was fabricated by
the papers, because I was there, remember?"

  "Oh, I remember, all right," he mumbled, then abruptly turned and shuffled to the sideboard, keeping his back to both of them.

  Unlike most mornings, his hair was a bit mussed and he had yet to shave. He was usually casually but crisply attired at breakfast, in khaki shorts and a polo shirt. This morning he had on a faded U.S. Open T-shirt that looked like he'd slept in it. For that matter, so did the shorts.

  Aurora sipped her tea to hide her smile. All signs of a restless night. And she doubted he'd lost sleep worrying about Gaby. Aurora knew he was thrilled his sister had made it this far. Which meant it was highly likely Max had tossed and turned thinking about something else. Or someone.

  "Gaby, I called a car to take you over to the grounds for practice.''

  Gaby paused midbite. "You're not going with me? We always drive over together."

  "I'll be over there, but I have a few other things to do this morning."

  Gaby shot a wink at Aurora that her brother couldn't see.

  "Okay, sure. Do you have a meeting with 'Alan' too?" she asked, making air quotes with her fingers,

  He glanced over his shoulder. "Alan who?"

  Gaby giggled. "Whatever. You go to your 'meeting.' I'll be fine."

  Max looked at her a moment longer, slightly bewildered, then shrugged and went back to staring at the sideboard. "Good," he said absently. "That's good."

  Aurora noted he'd yet to put a single thing on his plate, Restless night. Distracted. Loss of appetite. Oh yes, her morning was getting better by the moment. Now she just had to track Tess down at some point. "Perhaps I'll ride to the grounds with Gaby. Maybe Tess can get me in to see Bobby's match. I'd love to get the chance to watch him play. And, of course, any excuse for another round of their delightfully sinful strawberries and cream."

  "That would be great," Gaby said, bouncing in her seat. "Give us a chance to talk." She scooted her chair back. "I think I'll go take a shower." She made silent signals to Aurora, motioning to Max, still standing behind her, and mouthing, "don't forget to talk to him about you-know-who."