Break Point

by Danielle LaBue

  What a fool.

  The only consolation she could think of was maybe it wasn’t so bad the FBI was following her. At least they wouldn’t kill her like her father would. But if he was eager enough, Jake could make a case against her. She told him she agreed to take part a federal crime. It might not be enough to criminally charge her, but the Tennis Federation could ban her from the sport. She wrapped her hands tighter around the wheel, leaning forward in her seat. A life without tennis would be the worst prison she could think of. A bullet in the head might be an easier punishment.

  The way she looked at it, she was down two sets and a break. The current game plan certainly wasn’t working. She couldn’t trust her father, and there was no way she was trusting Jake. She had to come up with something big. Something out of nothing.

  Finally, she turned into the Vitalie Pavilion VIP lot. Geoffrey’s black Jaguar was parked near the back, just like she counted on. She scaled the back stairs in a jog and scanned the giant patio when she got to the landing. Geoffrey was by himself at a courtside table. He was early. Just as he always was for everything. So damn reliable and perfectly predictable. He in his red velour suit with the “G” stitched on the front. Non-threatening, loyal. Just what she needed.

  “Where is your racquet bag?” He asked, not even looking up from the pile of papers in front of him. “You’re on court in ten minutes?”

  Summer pulled the chair out across from him, scrapping the stone with a deafening squeak. “I haven’t been in the locker room yet.”

  “Where is your friend Harrison?”

  She didn’t know how to answer so she didn’t. Instead she pulled the pencil from his fingers then took his hands in hers. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

  Geoffrey looked up. His forehead wrinkled in confusion. “What is it, Darling? Is something wrong?”

  “I want to elope,” she blurted. “As soon as possible.” Her body tightened, half expecting the sky to fall or sirens to wail. But nothing happened. He just looked at her, his left brow raised in shock. “I know it is short notice, and the Citrus Tournament is two weeks away but I really, really want to...”

  “I think it’s a wonderful idea.”

  She blinked and clamped her mouth shut. Her strategizing never went past him agreeing to go through with it.

  “Granted, I will be busy right up until the tournament, but what if we do it that day after the match. You play on Saturday. We can fly out to Vegas that night if you like.”

  “How about Switzerland? I would love to see your homeland.” She figured the faster she could get out of the country the better. Maybe given a little time, the Feds would give up on her. She held her breath, her smile painfully plastered on her face “They have the Finisee tennis facility there. I can train and we can have an extended honeymoon.”

  “Sounds like you have thought this all out. I’m glad. I couldn’t be happier.” The coolness in his voice sounded more like a man sealing a business deal than a man in love.

  “I’m really happy about this, Geoffrey. Really.” A part of her truly meant it. A very small part.

  “Wait a minute.” He held up his finger, then reached into his briefcase. Summer watched him fumble around before pulling out a small velvet box. He slid it across the table to her and flipped it open with a snap.

  Summer looked down at the diamond. A huge stone that shimmered in the sunlight. “Wow Geoffrey, this is beautiful.”

  “I would have given it to you before but it never really seemed the right time.” With a smile he slowly slid the ring on her finger. “Darling, I know we’re an odd match. But I think this is a good arrangement for people like you and me and the careers we have.”

  She looked up at him, a bead of sweat forming at his brow. He might not make the most handsome or romantic husband, but he was real. And most importantly, she believed he would do right by her and protect her the best he could. Security was what she craved her whole life, and with him it was guaranteed.

  “I hope I can make you happy, Summer.”

  His words stung when she glanced down at her finger. “Geoffrey believe me, you already have.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Jake leaned against the chain link straining to get a glimpse of Summer when she entered the practice courts. In the week since she left he had been reduced to this. Peering through a fence like a puppy dog awaiting its master. Maintaining his cover as her bodyguard was essential to the case and so far he had managed by hovering out of her view, and obvious in everyone else’s. But he couldn’t do that forever. If her father caught wind he wasn’t around for her practices, he would wonder why. Somehow he would have to patch things up with her.

  Already he had taken a few liberties he shouldn’t have. Any good agent would have brought Summer in and no detached one would have revealed his status as an agent in the first place. But if he had bent the rules, he was convinced he had good reason. Taking her into custody would mean she would miss the Citrus tournament, and even if she could compete, it would be marred with scandal. She might even face charges. There was no way in hell he would let her take the fall for something her father was responsible for.

  He knew too well how that went.

  Jake glanced at his watch. As the days passed, practices ran later and the Pavilion was much busier now that the Citrus drew closer. It was great for the sport, but a security nightmare. He was thankful the USTF had posted their own security for the weeks leading up to the match. The more backup, the better.

  “Well, well, well. So, I finally caught up with you.” Jake cringed when he heard Leslie’s voice. She came up beside him and leaned against the chain link. “If I didn’t know better, Jake Harrison, I’d think you were avoiding me.”

  “I’ve tried kid, but you’re hard to shake.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.” She took off her sunglasses and cleaned them on the sleeve of her black blouse. “We haven’t spoken in a while. I thought I’d give you some time to recoup. What happened with Summer after I left your place the other day? She didn’t go to her father, did she?”

  “Leslie, why would she do that? That would be just as dangerous for her as it would be for the rest of us.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Of course I’m sure. Summer doesn’t want revenge. She just wants out.”

  “Unlike some people we know.” Leslie smiled. “Unless your priorities have changed.”

  Jake shook her head. As much as he respected the hell out of her, her by-the-books- tactics drove her nuts sometimes. “My priorities are still the same, Leslie. Al is still in my sights. I just have to go to ‘Plan B’ is all.”

  They both paused when they heard Summer’s name announced over the loud speaker summoning her to the practice court. Peering through fence, he could see her as she marched out. Her long hair was fastened in a braid sporting his favorite midnight blue tennis dress.

  “You need a sponge to soak up that drool?”

  “Save it, Leslie.”

  The crowd clustered like ants around her court, eager to see her in action. She smiled and waved, even posing for the photographers. She was every bit the blond bombshell the sport magazines loved to tag her. And he was her biggest fan.

  “You know you can’t lose your cover as her bodyguard.”

  “I know.” Jake mumbled. “But, I hurt her and one thing I’ve learned about Summer is that breaking trust is the one thing she doesn’t forgive.”

  “Well she better get over it by this weekend. Al will get suspicious if you two aren’t there together for the festivities as well as the big party at Vitalie’s.”

  “God, the Citrus Ball. I’ve got to figure that out.” He felt Leslie’s hand rest on his shoulder. It was familiar and sincere, and he smiled in return. “Look, I’m sorry about all this. But I promised I would do right by her.”

  “I believe in you. We all want this case to pan out as much as you, you know.” She motioned to Jake’s car and pulled her shades down over her eyes.
“Why don’t you disappear for a while and let me talk to her. I’ll call you later.”

  He pushed off the fence and looked down at her. For as much of a pain as she could be, there was no denying she was a decent friend. “Really?” he asked. “She’s probably going to rip your head off.”

  “Let me worry about that. You just pull yourself together.”

  She didn’t give him time to respond. Jake watched as she made her way through the parking lot before losing her in the gathering crowd. Everything now hinged on Leslie’s powers of persuasion. He cast a gaze heavenward before redirecting it back on the opposite side of the fence.

  ***

  Summer loved practicing in front of a crowd. The mood was light, and she could get away with kidding around with the fans. But recently there’d been a strange expectant vibe. Like a cloud signaling a building storm. The Citrus tournament was less than a week away and the world wanted to know if she was ready. Practices like these were an invitation for scrutiny. Not that she minded. In fact, she relished the challenge.

  Each player had their own personal practice routines. Some liked to rally, others started right with the volleys. Summer always liked to begin with a few minutes of easy serving. Standing behind the base line, she would smile and wave at the fans, winking at the boys who catcalled when her skirt crawled up her leg. This was what Geoffrey called “Money PR”. Being personable with spectators was what made fans, fans. And fans spent money which was the key factor in Geoffrey’s equations.

  After a hopper or two of balls she’d grab some water then scan the crowd for familiar faces. Special guests, celebrities. Rarely anyone specific. Except recently her brain seemed highly focused on finding Jake among the gallery. He was never there, and if she tried hard enough, she didn’t let it bother her.

  Across the court, her hitting partner Steve served a few short balls, warming her up with easy rallies. Crouching in a ready position she looked past him through the fence. A steady stream of people walked by, nameless faces and obvious tourists all with wonderful smiles. From inside the blur of tennis whites and light pastels emerged a tall, dark haired woman in the black power suit.

  Leslie.

  Summer checked the clock overhead. Practice was minutes from over so she wrapped up with a crowd pleasing overhead. With a smile she waved to the fans, doing her little spin/wave/curtsy combination before snagging a towel and heading out the exit to the balcony.

  “Wow! I’ve never seen live tennis before.” Leslie stood and greeted her. “Looks like a lot of fun!”

  The woman looked out of place around the players and staff, but Summer suspected she looked like that no matter where she was. She pushed her sunglasses onto her auburn hair then extended her hand to shake. Summer ignored her gesture. “What are you doing here, Leslie?”

  “I was wondering if you had a minute to talk.”

  “It depends. What about?”

  Leslie looked around as if wary who was listening. “Look Summer, no big deal, we chat then you can leave.”

  Summer sighed as she slung the towel around her neck. If this was the FBI’s way to take her in, she was surprised it wasn’t more elaborate. Reluctantly she pulled two waters from the ice bin and showed her to a court-side table.

  “Look,” Leslie began. “Jake is a good friend of mine, and he’s worked very hard for a very long time on this case. It seems to me a part of you wouldn’t mind if Al Riley was taken off the street.”

  “You don’t say.”

  “You aren’t the only one who’s been hurt by your father, you know. So far, you have been part of the problem. Why not be part of the solution?

  Summer leaned back in her chair. Something told her Leslie didn’t believe in victims of circumstance. She was the type of person who saw things as either black or white. The ball was either in or out, never on the line. It was also obvious she had already drawn her own conclusions about the situation, and Summer wasn’t interested in defending herself anymore. “If insulting me is your key to affective persuasion, I would suggest you try another tactic.”

  “If you were smart you would come in and give a deposition.”

  “Yeah right,” she replied. “And tell me what happens when my father catches wind of my cooperation.”

  “Well...”

  “He’d kill me. Sorry, not interested.”

  “You know I could arrest you, but Jake told me not to. He’s the superior on this operation so I am forced to defer.” Leslie scowled as if disgusted with a child. “He’s risking a lot for you.”

  “He lied to me!” Summer spat, her arms slamming against the glass table. “He had me believing I could trust him and he took advantage of me. Come on, Leslie, woman to woman. Tell me you can at least relate to that.”

  Leslie flinched as a blush colored the apples of her cheeks. For a moment she looked vulnerable. Fragile even. And Summer knew she’d gotten the point.

  Leslie stared at her folded hands on the table. “He cares about you,” she said. “More than he should, and as things stand now, he’s in just as much danger as you are. How does Jake know you won’t run to your father and blow his cover just to save yourself?”

  “I wouldn’t do that to him.”

  Leslie sighed. “He said the same thing.”

  Heads started to turn their way, the confrontation probably looking too intense for a casual courtside visit. Summer smiled at the onlookers as Leslie stood and lowered her voice. “Look Summer, Jake is the best undercover operative in the country when it comes to organized crime. He has been working for three years on Al. He’s close, but he needs you to help him. Please let him at least keep his cover as your bodyguard.”

  Summer hated that she made sense. But if she did go along with Jake, it might stave off the FBI and her father until she could leave the country. “Okay fine. I’ll cut Jake some slack if you return the favor. He can keep his cover as long as you don’t bring me in. But it is in appearance only. I don’t want to talk to him and I’m definitely not staying with him.”

  “Fair enough.” Leslie said, pulling her shades back over her eyes. “We’ll work with you if you work with us. I know there is a party this weekend at the Vitalie compound. It would be in both of your best interests if he accompanied you.”

  “You can’t be serious,” Summer blurted. “What do you expect me to do? Make nice with him all night? I have sponsors to schmooze and press to talk to. I can’t be babysitting him.”

  “Actually, he’ll be babysitting you. So I’ll tell him it’s a date.”

  “Great,” Summer replied. She stood and shoved her chair back into the table.

  “So, I’m sure you and Jake can patch things up. You know, for appearance sake and all.”

  There was sarcasm in Leslie’s voice that irked her. But to call it out would require more questions and Summer was tired of chatting.

  “So, should Jake pick you up or will your fiancé be accompanying you?”

  “Tell Jake to pick us up at seven.” Summer said before heading back toward the locker room. Leslie didn’t deserve elaboration.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Jake sped into Summer’s carport, congratulating himself for his new, land-speed record. Sliding up the sleeve of his tux, he triumphantly checked his watch with the display on the dashboard clock. They both agreed. Seven on the nose. He beat his old best time from his house to hers by almost two minutes.

  He stepped out of the Porsche and walked around it, patting the hood on his way. His heart echoed in his ears, the way it used to when he idled at the pole position seconds before a race. This was his chance to prove himself. To somehow maneuver through danger and peril and make it to the finish line the winner. The key was being objective. He strode up the walk trying to decide if he should knock, or just use his key like a personal bodyguard would. He compromised on the knocking-stroll-on-in combination and headed straight for the living room bar.

  Geoffrey was already there replenishing the olives in his martini. He was in
a traditional black tux, and an impenetrable layer of spicy aftershave. Mercifully the embroidered “G” had been omitted.

  “What’s up Geoff? You ready to party or what?” Jake reached around him for the bourbon on the shelf. He got no response, but scowl on Geoffrey’s leathery face told him loads. The guy had no sense of humor.

  “So Geoff, you must be very excited about tomorrow’s match.”

  “I am,” he said over the rim of his glass. “Of course Summer gets to play again, but as of midnight tonight I will be the new, proud owner of the whole Vitalie compound. I stand to make a pretty good amount of money this weekend.”

  “Really. You know, Summer said you were interested in the joint. You must have made good money off Nila these past months to afford it.” He picked a few peanuts from the bowl and flipped them in his mouth. Geoff wasn’t the only one who could push buttons.

  “How I paid for it is none of you business. But I assure you, the transaction does nothing but good for Summer. After she retires, she’ll have a stable full of younger girls to inspire.”

  “And for you to exploit. How convenient.”

  “Geoffrey you forgot your cufflinks.”

  Jake turned to see Summer standing in front of him. She wore a short white strapless dress, with a beaded bodice that reflected the light like twinkling stars. It was short, a good couple inches above the knee and wonderfully tight in all the right places. He gawked at the beautiful curve of her long toned legs, and her perfect pale breasts peeking over the fabric. “Geoffrey, go back to your bedroom and find them. You can’t go without them.”

  “You’re right, Darling.” Geoffrey set his drink down, then moved from behind the bar. “I’ll be right back.”

  Jake barely heard the exchange, too mesmerized by the vision in front of him. He couldn’t tear his eyes away.