Love All

by Spangler, Rachel;

  “Who, me?” Sadie didn’t look the least bit chagrined. “I’d given up on you the moment I walked in here. You’re the one who talked yourself right back around to the point I wanted to make.”

  “Did not.”

  “You did. It was beautiful.” Sadie pushed off the desk and strode toward the door. “You laid out the argument better than I ever could have.”

  “I didn’t agree to play doubles with your daughter.”

  “Not yet,” Sadie admitted gleefully.

  “Then what makes you think I will?”

  “Because you’re smart and thoughtful, and you know it’s the right thing to do, even if it’s not what you want to do.”

  “I have just as many reasons to say no as I do to say yes.” Jay pouted.

  Sadie smiled at her from the doorway. “I believe you.”

  “You don’t even know me.”

  “Sure I do,” she said, her tone maddeningly calm. “I know all the important things now, anyway.”

  “How?” she asked, her heart beating painfully in her throat as the room closed in around her.

  “I’m a mom. I know things,” Sadie said lightly.

  “Why do I get the feeling you’ve used that line before?”

  Sadie pushed open the door with a laugh. “I’ll see you in Germany.”

  Jay didn’t respond. She merely rolled over onto her stomach and listened for the door to click shut. When the sound finally came, she let out a muffled scream right into the sheets.

  She couldn’t believe she was going here again, after all the years and all the pain and all the lessons learned the hard way. She couldn’t believe any of it, but she knew herself well enough to realize she couldn’t fight it either.

  Chapter Four

  They were over international waters by the time Hank tapped Destiny on the shoulder. “I’ve got an empty seat by me. Go get some sleep.”

  “Really?” She looked up at him, her dark eyes flecked with gold and gratitude. “But you’re bigger than me.”

  He smiled lovingly down at her cramped form folded awkwardly into the window seat. “You need it more than I do. Go on, row 23.”

  She didn’t protest again. Grabbing her phone and travel pillow, she climbed over Sadie, then scooted off down the narrow aisle.

  “That was nice of you,” Sadie said, after she’d gone.

  “Yeah, it was,” he said with a grin, “but now you gotta move over, because there’s no way I can squeeze past you into her seat.”

  “Fair enough.” She unclasped her seatbelt and slid over. She didn’t mind getting bumped from her aisle seat if it meant Des could get some sleep. In fact, she hadn’t minded anything all day. Not the car ride with a sullen teenager, not the extra pat-down from airport security, not even the four-hour delay on an already late-night flight. She couldn’t explain her newfound impervious attitude, but if pressed, she’d have to say she felt almost smug since leaving Jay’s hotel room.

  Hank dropped down next to her, his body so heavy it shook her own seat as he settled in, pushing her closer to the cool, double-pane window. “So, how did it go?”

  She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from grinning. They hadn’t had a chance to talk alone all day, and she’d been anticipating this moment since she left Jay’s room. “She’ll do it.”

  “What?” Hank practically yelled, and then caught himself before continuing in a whisper. “She agreed?”

  “No,” Sadie said. “She said she doesn’t play doubles, but she didn’t mean it, or maybe she meant it at the time, but she was wrong.”

  Hank stared at her blankly.

  “Don’t worry. The bottom line is she’ll play doubles soon enough.”

  “How do you know? Did she concede any of your points?”

  “No, but she conceded a few of her own.”

  Confusion creased his brow. “She made her own points about why she should play doubles?”

  “Yes, rather unintentionally.” Even now the memory of Jay’s flustered expression almost made her giggle.

  “But she still didn’t agree to play with Des?”

  “No. When I left she remained adamant she didn’t play doubles, but she’ll come around. She’s just got to do so on her own terms.”

  His eyes narrowed. “This morning you didn’t want to talk to a near stranger, and now you’re talking like you know her inner workings. Why are you so sure of yourself all of a sudden?”

  She considered the question seriously. What had changed? Her hand had been shaking so badly she’d nearly spilled the coffee even before knocking on Jay’s door. When had she gone from nervous wreck to confident? When Jay had opened the door wearing athletic shorts and a bra? No, the sight of Jay’s body, toned and lean, had shifted something in her, but it hadn’t made her feel self-assured. Maybe the change had come when the two of them had settled into an easy conversation about the ins and outs of tennis travel? Jay’s assurance that she wasn’t alone in juggling schedules certainly helped put her at ease, but it hadn’t triggered the kind of difference she felt now. Perhaps the moment had come when Jay had admitted she had a soft spot for Sadie’s smile.

  Her heart gave a little hiccup, and she suspected she’d hit her mark. How had one simple comment changed their whole dynamic? Surely she wasn’t so susceptible to flattery. Then again, the compliment had seemed like so much more than a simple come-on. In fact, it hadn’t felt like a come-on at all, so much as a genuine statement of fact. It felt like the first moment between them that had been about just the two of them.

  Her breath grew shallow as she pictured Jay in bed, her arms folded behind her head, long legs stretched atop a knot of rumpled sheets. If she’d been engaging on the court or on the stage, she was downright alluring off of it. Stripped of pretense and playacting, she retained all her best qualities but lost the showmanship that gave them distance. Sadie had more than enjoyed her openness. She pulled strength from it. She could read Jay’s emotions, see the subtle flush of her arousal even if it never overtook her more caring nature or stubborn resolve. The combination had made Sadie feel powerful, possessed, both known and knowing.

  More than twelve hours later, she still carried herself with the same certainty she had when they’d parted. What would it be like for her to have someone like Jay around more often, and in more ways than one?

  Her breath caught tightly in her throat, and she shook her head.

  “What?” Hank asked.

  She blinked back into focus and noticed the confusion on his face had shifted to concern. “Nothing.”

  “Are you sure?” he asked, “because you look . . . different.”

  She shook her head. “No. I’m not different.”

  She might have felt that way for a while, but she couldn’t stay in Jay’s hotel room forever. She didn’t even want to. She was thirty thousand feet above the Atlantic Ocean on an overnight flight to Europe, talking to a tennis coach about the future of her daughter, the professional athlete. Surreal as those facts may have seemed, this was her life, and it was a good one.

  Maybe someday she would have the luxury of daydreaming about celebrity romances, but not today. She hadn’t gone to Jay’s room to ask for a date, or even friendship. She’d been there to ask the woman to enter a professional relationship with her teenage daughter. She couldn’t think of anything more complicated and less sexy than that. Even Jay had admitted Sadie played the role of tennis mom perfectly. How could she ever expect Jay to see her as anything else when she didn’t even see herself as anything else? And she didn’t want to. She was Destiny Larsen’s mom, and that was more than enough for her.

  Or at least it had been for the last seventeen years.

  ★ ★ ★

  Jay slid across the red clay, or at least that’s what she intended to do. Instead she sort of slipped and then stopped abruptly, her racket waving fruitlessly in the general direction of the ball Peggy Hamilton sent skipping off the sideline.

  “Game. Ms. Hamilton leads 5- 2,” th
e chair umpire called, as if there had been any doubt.

  “Fuck fuckity fuck,” she muttered under her breath as she tried to wrench her groin muscles back out of the unintentional split they’d nearly sent her into. Then the panic seized her chest at the fear that one of the cameras had caught the muttering and broadcast it to a lip-reading official who would fine her for yet another grievous offense. Then she laughed, remembering she was playing a 10 a.m. match, in Germany, during the first round of a minor tournament, against another player whose rank barely broke the top fifty and yet still managed to best her own by a solid twenty spots. All of those facts should’ve depressed the living shit out of her, but on the bright side, it meant no one was televising this match, much less watching the damn thing.

  No one except Sadie Larsen, of course, who sat in the second row behind the chair umpire, alone. Which was bad, very bad, for a multitude of reasons.

  Her presence had inspired a mix of emotions throughout the match, none of which had helped her play any better. Annoyance, confusion, a hint of pleasure, anger at herself for the hint of happiness that someone had come to watch her play. What she wanted to feel was nothing, but that hadn’t been an option for her ever since Sadie had breezed out of her hotel room in Charleston. Nearly ten days had passed, and not one of them had gone by without Jay replaying their conversation. She kept rolling their words over in her mind, wondering how she’d managed to tie herself in a knot. They had been talking about tennis, and then they weren’t, and then all of a sudden Jay had all but agreed to the point Sadie had been trying to make about tennis.

  Which was bad, because not only couldn’t she figure out how that had happened, she’d also spent the last week and a half wondering if she’d been right. “She” being herself, but also Sadie, because somehow they’d both ended up at the same damn conclusion.

  She strode back to the baseline and assumed her ready position, feet shoulder width apart, knees bent, racket out in front, not even glancing at the stands. But not looking and not seeing were two very different things, because she couldn’t stop thinking about the smug smile on Sadie’s face as she assured Jay she’d come around.

  Where had that come from? Certainly not from the timid woman who hadn’t been able to look her in the eye when she’d first arrived. Jay had spent a fair share of her waking hours marveling at the woman Sadie had become as her confidence had risen, and the implications the shift had had on her own emotions. A little playful banter with a stressed-out tennis mom was one thing. Flirting with a confident, knowing, satisfied woman ratcheted the danger quotient up several degrees, especially when she considered the possibility of them spending more time together, which of course she wasn’t, because that also would be very bad.

  A ball pounded the clay right at the service line and sprang back up just to her right. Jay lunged but didn’t get her racket up in time to ward off an ace that wouldn’t have been one if she hadn’t been standing flat-footed thinking about Sadie. Somewhere in her musing about the woman in the stands, she’d forgotten the fact that she was losing, again, which should bother her a lot more than seeing Sadie. But it didn’t, which was also very bad.

  So much bad, and not nearly enough good. The downward trend weighed on her so heavily she barely had the strength to return the next two serves, much less score winners with them.

  “40-love,” the chair called, then to rub salt in the wound added, “Ms. Hamilton has three match points.”

  “Thanks for clearing that up,” Jay whispered, and held her racket at the ready again. She wouldn’t win. She wasn’t naive, but she had one more crack at the ball, and if she couldn’t afford to slam her racket or scream any profanity, she intended to land her blows where she could. As Peggy served, Jay turned her feet toward her forehand side and drew back her racket, then clamping both hands on the hilt swung it forward like a baseball bat and laced a line drive right at her opponent’s body. All Peggy could do was jump out of the way as the ball screamed past her to hit the back wall of the court.

  “Out!” a line judge called unnecessarily.

  “Game, set, match. Ms. Hamilton wins 6-4, 6-2.”

  Jay jogged to the net, her racket clenched tightly in her left fist as she extended her other hand. Peggy accepted and pulled her into a hug.

  “Sorry about the last one,” Jay muttered.

  “No worries,” Peggy said calmly. “We’ve all been there. Now who’s the woman?”

  Jay stepped back and shook her head. “Trouble.”

  Peggy laughed as they walked toward their respective benches. “Then she’s right up your alley.”

  “Who?” Heather switched off her mic and climbed down from the umpire’s chair.

  Peggy nodded to Sadie, and Heather turned to look before grinning back to Jay. “Nice.”

  “Come on, don’t encourage her,” Jay complained. “It’s nothing.”

  “Doesn’t seem like nothing,” Heather said. “You played like shit, even for clay.”

  “She’s totally in your head,” Peggy said gleefully, as she swung her bag onto her shoulder. “Is she local?”

  “No,” Jay said flatly.

  “A reporter?” Heather asked.

  “No. God, no.”

  “She’s not a player,” Heather said. “She looks familiar though.”

  “She kind of does. I think I’ve seen her around,” Peggy said. “Is she a groupie?”

  “God, no, just stop.”

  “Is she—”

  “She’s Destiny Larsen’s mom,” Jay blurted.

  Both mouths fell open as they stared at her, then at each other, and then fell into giggle fits.

  “Nice, guys.” Jay jammed her racket into her bag and yanked the zipper up. “Real nice.”

  Heather recovered first. “I’m sorry. It’s just . . . is she really a tennis mom? You’re dating a tennis mom?”

  “No!” Jay exploded, then lowered her voice again. “We’re not dating, not even close.”

  “You’re blushing,” Peggy teased. “Oh my God, Heather. Jay Pierce’s cheeks are turning pink. I didn’t think there was anything left in the whole world that could make her blush.”

  “It’s hot in here. I just got my ass kicked, and I’m pissed about it. Exertion and anger are all you see here.”

  “Tennis Mom is totally under your skin,” Heather said.

  “She’s not. Or maybe she is, but not the way you think.” Jay sighed, then surrendered. “She wants me to play doubles with her daughter.”

  Both of them stopped laughing immediately. Jay shifted awkwardly as they once again stared at her. She sort of preferred their teasing to their serious concern.

  “You’re going to do it, right?” Heather asked.

  “No,” she practically shouted, “of course not.”

  “Jay,” Heather said sharply, “the doubles game needs you as much as you need it. And now someone with talent and promise and a bright future is begging you to join forces. You have to play.”

  “I don’t have to do anything, and I don’t play doubles.”

  “Good,” Peggy said, causing Heather to shoot her a stern look. “What? She was unstoppable at doubles. She and Larsen together would kill us all.”

  “And you like being able to waltz to an easy payday,” Heather filled in.

  “Damn right I do,” Peggy said. “I got a split of forty grand two weeks ago.”

  Jay dropped onto the bench, feeling light-headed. Twenty thousand dollars, and Peggy wasn’t even great at doubles. She hated to play the net, whereas Jay had used to love it. She snatched up a towel and mopped up some of the sweat beading along the back of her neck. Used to was the operative phrase there, she reminded herself internally.

  “Hey,” Heather said, her voice soft with worry, “I didn’t mean to pressure you. I just thought it sounded like a great chance to get your groove back.”

  “And I didn’t mean to be insensitive,” Peggy added, patting her shoulder, then laughed. “I’m just worried it’d be a g
reat chance for you to get your groove back.”

  She snorted. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”

  “Good,” Heather said. “You know you can call me if you need to talk.”

  “Yeah, me too,” Peggy said quickly. “And I mean that, ’cause I think you’re going to need someone to vent to soon.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “’Cause Tennis Mom is sitting next to the locker room tunnel now.”

  Jay craned her neck to see the exit. Sure enough, Sadie had switched seats. Jay would have to pass almost within arm’s reach in order to leave the arena. She sighed as she took in Sadie’s full lips and bare shoulders under a white silk shell.

  “You want me to call security?” Heather asked.

  She shook her head. “Nah, just give me some time, okay?”

  “Of course,” Heather said.

  Peggy gave her shoulder a little squeeze, and they both exited the court. Jay hung her head for a moment, her chest tight, her throat dry. She’d just lost a match, and that stung, but she worried she was about to lose a piece of her dignity as well. She knew all the reasons she would use to justify the decision. She needed the money. She wanted to win. Destiny could use her help. Hank was always right. She wasn’t ready to let go of this game. Every one of them made sense, and clearly no one would argue against her.

  She rose, threw a towel over her shoulder and grabbed her bag, but as she locked eyes with Sadie, she understood all the reasons to say yes were counterbalanced by one reason to say no.

  Still, she walked toward her, chin up, eyes level, until she got close enough to say one word. “Fine.”

  Sadie’s brilliant smile told Jay she’d gotten the message, and the way her heart gave a little thud against her ribs said her concerns were not in any way unfounded.

  ★ ★ ★

  Prague, Czech Republic

  “Late flight?” Hank asked, clearly trying to hide a grin and doing a poor job of it.