Losing Game: A Winning Ace Novel (Book 2)

by Tracie Delaney

  “I could strangle myself.”

  Her lips twitched, despite her annoyance. “I don’t think that’s physically possible.”

  “What do you think Cash will say?”

  Tally grimaced. “I doubt it will be repeatable. I can’t say I’m looking forward to the conversation.”

  “Please tell him how sorry I am. Luke is too. He didn’t mean it, you know. It wasn’t malicious.”

  Tally glanced at her watch. “I can’t deal with this right now. I’ve got to go.”

  She left Danny with his head in his hands and caught a taxi back to the airport.

  25

  As Tally walked into the arrivals hall, she spotted Isaac holding up a white sign with “Natalia McKenzie” written in black marker. She chuckled to herself and waved. He hurried over, immediately lifting her bag from her shoulder.

  “I’m sorry, who are you?” she said.

  Isaac smiled. “It’s busy here. I wanted to make sure you saw me.”

  “Couldn’t miss you, Isaac. You tower above everyone else.”

  Isaac had managed to get a parking space right across the street, and within five minutes, they were on their way to the hotel.

  “How’s he doing?”

  Isaac twisted his head towards her, while still keeping an eye on the road. “He’s a little tense.”

  Tally laughed. “Always so polite, Isaac. You mean he’s being a grouch and making everyone’s life miserable.”

  He squirmed in his seat. “We’re all glad you’re back. Let’s leave it at that.”

  “Has he spoken to you?”

  Isaac nodded. “It was a bit of a shock.”

  He didn’t expand any further, and Tally didn’t press. Isaac dropped her in front of the hotel. She trudged inside, an empty feeling in the pit of her stomach as she tried to second-guess Cash’s reaction when she told him Danny had shared the story with Luke. Danny, whom Cash had voiced concerns over when they’d met for dinner. She was going to have to tell Cash he’d been right. God, she hated it when he was right.

  She drew the key card out of her bag, inserted it into the slot, and took a deep breath before pushing the door open. Cash wasn’t alone. Kinga and William were sitting on the sofa, and Rupe stood off to the side, wearing an unusually grim expression. No sign of Brad or Jamie.

  “Hi,” she said, dropping her bag on a nearby chair. “Party started without me?”

  Cash jumped up and strode across the room. “Hey, baby.” He cupped her face and kissed her before glancing over his shoulder. “Thanks for coming,” he said, effectively dismissing everyone. “I appreciate it.”

  Kinga took the hint and immediately stood up. “Of course. We’ll see you tomorrow.” She rubbed Cash’s shoulder and kissed Tally on the cheek. “Try and get some rest. It’s going to be a big day.”

  “Fucking understatement of the year,” Cash muttered.

  Tally put her arm out when Rupe began to leave. “Can you stay a minute?”

  “Of course,” Rupe said.

  Tally glimpsed Cash’s puzzled look, which she ignored. She figured Cash might need emotional support from Rupe. Even if Cash didn’t, she did. She closed the door behind Kinga and William and sank down onto the sofa.

  “What a day,” she said, rubbing her face with her hands.

  “Well? How did the almost-fuck-up happen?” Cash’s tone was sharp, telling her he was close to the limit of his patience.

  “Sit down.”

  He hesitated, but after a brief pause, he did as she asked.

  She took both his hands in hers. “I know this is a day or so earlier than we imagined, but the outcome is the same.”

  “What happened?”

  “And Kinga will help handle the press. You know how good she is at doing that.”

  Cash snatched his hands from hers. “Stop fucking procrastinating, Natalia, and tell me.”

  Tally glanced at Rupe then back at Cash. “Luke let it slip to someone he shouldn’t have. Accidentally.”

  Cash shot her a furious stare. “Luke? Danny’s Luke?” When she nodded, he threw his hands in the air. “And how the fuck did Luke find out? No, let me guess. Danny fucking blabbed, didn’t he?”

  Tally gnawed at the inside of her cheek. She reached for him as he jumped to his feet. “There’s no actual harm done.”

  “No harm done? I fucking told you I wanted to keep this between us. But no, you had to do it your fucking way.”

  Rupe opened his mouth to defend her, but she shot him a glance. “That’s not fair. We both agreed. And let’s face it—the only thing that’s changed is we’re going to print twenty-four hours earlier than planned.”

  Cash clawed at the neck of his T-shirt, an expression of absolute fury etched on his face. “That’s all right, then. Fuck you, Natalia. And fuck Danny.”

  Rupe launched out of his chair and loomed over Cash. “I’m warning you, dude. You speak to her like that again, and I’m going to give you the fucking pasting you deserve.”

  Cash jumped up too and shoved Rupe hard in the shoulder, causing him to stumble backwards. “Oh yeah? You won’t push me right now if you know what’s good for you.”

  “Stop it!” Tally yelled as she threw her hands in the air. “Both of you. For God’s sake.”

  Cash’s arms fell to his sides. Without making eye contact with either her or Rupe, he slumped into the nearest chair and held his head in his hands.

  “Everything will be fine, bud,” Rupe said, already back to his usual amiable self.

  Cash lifted his chin, his face creased in defeat. “Guarantee that, can you?”

  Rupe grinned. “Yeah. I got superpowers, don’t you know.”

  Cash’s lips twitched, the first time he’d shown an iota of humour. “Do you mind leaving us alone?”

  Rupe met Tally’s gaze, seeking her agreement.

  “We’ll knock for you at ten tomorrow morning,” she said, standing to see him out. “You might as well travel to the arena with us.”

  Rupe clapped Cash on the back and then gave Tally a hug. “I’m right down the hall. If you need me, holler.”

  “We will.”

  Tally closed the door behind him. As she turned around, Cash briefly met her gaze before dropping his eyes to the floor.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, scraping a hand through his hair. “I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that.”

  She crossed the room and knelt down in front of him, her hands lightly brushing his thighs. “I know you feel like you’ve lost control, but once this is out, things are going to get better.” When he refused to focus on her, she squeezed his knees. “You have to trust me.”

  His face twisted. “Were you scared of me? Is that why you had Rupe stay behind?”

  “Of course not,” she exclaimed. “I wanted him here for moral support. I know you’d never hurt me.”

  “I’m sorry for yelling. I didn’t mean to. I was all prepared for it coming out Saturday, and now it’s tomorrow instead…” He gave a weak shrug. “It caught me off guard, that’s all.”

  Tally wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him close. He clung to her, and her heart wrenched painfully. “Whatever happens, ace, we’ll face it together.”

  26

  Cash opened his eyes on the morning of his semifinal, and for about two seconds, he forgot what was to come. Then realisation hit him, and he groaned. The day was going to be hell. Not the worst fucking day of his life, but not a barrel of laughs either.

  He rolled onto his side, and his heart rate spiked. Natalia was lying on her back, her hair a wild tumble over the white pillowcase, her normally pale skin flushed. A dart of guilt shot through him at how vile he’d been to her. He’d treated her like shit, and in return, she’d offered him unconditional support.

  She stretched in her sleep, a sigh of pleasure escaping her parted lips. The movement caused the bedsheet to slip, revealing the curve of one pale breast. His cock twitched, and he lifted the covers. His gaze swept over her breasts, dow
n to the dip in her waist, which led to perfectly flared hips.

  “Morning, pervert.”

  Cash’s head snapped to Natalia’s face. Her eyes were half-open and alight with laughter. He forced a grin. “Busted.”

  She rose up on her elbow and looked him square in the eye. “How are you doing, ace?”

  “I’m sorry about yesterday,” he said, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “I don’t know why you put up with me.”

  “Because I love you.”

  His heart squeezed, and he kissed her briefly on the lips. “I don’t deserve you.”

  “How are you feeling about today?”

  He shrugged. “I’m pulling out of the tournament.”

  Natalia gasped. “Why?”

  “Because.” He shrugged again and glanced at the clock. “First edition will be out, and it’ll already be online.”

  “But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t play. Not if you want to.”

  “If I go out there today, I’ll lose. Badly. My mind isn’t on the job.”

  She tilted her head to one side. “Are you sure?”

  “Positive.”

  “Have you called Brad or Kinga?”

  “Not yet. I wanted to tell you first.” He swung his legs over the side of the bed and wandered into the living room of their suite. He returned a few minutes later, holding his phone. “Why don’t you order breakfast while I take my medicine.”

  Natalia smiled, although the smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. He watched as she walked naked across the room to grab her dressing gown from the bathroom. His stomach cramped with pleasure, the sight of her momentarily distracting him. She’d changed so much in the last few months, her confidence in her body and in his love for her soaring. And even though he wouldn’t have thought it possible, he was more attracted to her now than in the beginning.

  He thought about tossing a coin to decide who to call first, but as both Brad and Kinga would likely lose the fucking plot when he told them he wasn’t playing the match, the order didn’t matter. He decided on Kinga, only because he wanted her to arrange a press conference for later that day. Might as well get it over with in one go. And if he was upfront with the press, maybe they’d go easy on him.

  Yeah. Of course they would.

  Tally slung on her dressing gown and left Cash alone. She could only imagine how pissed off Brad would be, and not for the first time, she worried he would think Cash’s career had begun to unravel ever since she’d come onto the scene.

  She ordered breakfast for the two of them and grabbed her phone. Might as well check out the article online and see what sort of comments people were leaving. She clicked on the newspaper app. The article was at the top of the page, and she quickly scanned it. Pete was a superb editor. The story had come across as empathetic, while at the same time not sounding as though any pertinent facts had been omitted. They hadn’t, but sometimes stories read as though the journalist was hiding something, which led the public to think they were being lied to.

  She scrolled down to the bottom of the article. Shit. Already, more than one thousand people had commented, and it wasn’t even nine in the morning. Taking a deep breath, she began to flick through the comments, anxiety quickly turning to euphoria. Apart from the odd troll sticking the knife in, the public was fully behind Cash. As relief washed over her, the nervous tension in her stomach evaporated. She continued to read amazing messages of love and support and couldn’t stop a broad smile edging across her face.

  She glanced up as the bedroom door opened. Cash’s hair was dishevelled where he’d probably been dragging his hand through it as Kinga and Brad told him what they thought of his decision. The strain showed on his face.

  Tally held up her phone, still open at the comments page. “Well, ace, the public is on your side, so those journalists may have to be a bit nicer to you.”

  Cash reached out and took hold of her phone. His thumb flicked across the screen as he scrolled through the web pages. As time went on, a deep frown turned into a tentative smile. After a few minutes reading, he raised his head.

  “Well, who’d have thought?” He handed back her phone. “That’ll help the sponsors swallow the pill.”

  “Your fans love you.”

  “Shame they won’t be interviewing me later.”

  She chuckled. “What did Kinga and Brad say?”

  A trace of a smile left his lips. “Do you really want to know?”

  “That good?”

  Cash collapsed onto the seat next to her. “Brad called me a fucking idiot. And Kinga, well, I can’t repeat what she said. Foul-mouthed bitch.”

  “It went well, then?” Tally said, giving him a playful nudge.

  Cash grimaced. “Neither of them agrees with my decision.”

  “But ultimately, it is your decision. There’s still time to change your mind.”

  He shook his head. “I’ve asked Kinga to inform the tournament director and to arrange a press conference for this afternoon. Once that’s out of the way, we can travel to Rome to get ready for next week.”

  “What time is the press conference?”

  “Kinga’s going to meet with my lawyers this morning and then arrange it for two.” He clasped her hand. “You’ll be there, right?”

  Tally swallowed past a lump in her throat. “Where else would I be, ace?”

  Manic chatter seeped through the door as Tally and Kinga peeked into the room where they were holding the press conference. It was slowly filling up. If the footfall continued at that rate, it would be standing room only in about thirty seconds.

  “Ready?” she said, glancing over her shoulder at Cash.

  “No. But what choice do I have?”

  “Come on, ace. This isn’t you. Remember how much you hate the bastards, and you’ll be fine.”

  Cash chuckled and pulled her into his arms. “What would I do without you?”

  She brushed a lock of hair from his forehead. “Lucky for you, you’ll never have to find out.”

  He gave a heavy sigh. “Maybe I should have hired a publicist.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Kinga said with a smile.

  “You know what I mean. This isn’t exactly your job.”

  “My job is anything you need it to be. I’m not exactly inexperienced in dealing with the press. Just remember, only answer what you’re comfortable with, and ignore the rest. Shouldn’t be too much of a stretch for you,” she added with a grin. She waved her hand for Cash to go ahead, but as he passed her, she tapped his arm. “Stay cool.”

  Cash grimaced and opened the door. Loud chatter immediately reduced to a low hum as he pulled his chair out and sat down. Isaac stood off to the left, his eyes scanning the room. Kinga took her place on Cash’s right, Tally sat to his left. She almost whispered something about him being flanked by his harem, but one look at his grim expression, and she changed her mind.

  “Ladies and gentleman, thank you for coming,” Kinga said. “As per the briefing statement, Cash will take questions for fifteen minutes. Please, only one question per journalist to give everyone a chance.” She glanced around the room, pointing at a seasoned sports reporter who worked for the BBC, who also happened to be a nice woman. “Priya, your question.”

  “What made you decide to go public now, after all these years?” Priya said, pen poised to take notes even though her voice recorder sat on her lap.

  Cash groped for Tally’s hand under the table. “After almost thirteen years in a coma, my mother is making an excellent recovery, and quite understandably, she wants to get out and about. As questions will undoubtedly be asked if we’re seen together, I decided now was the right time. Believe me, if there’d been another way, I’d have taken it.”

  “Was it difficult confessing to your mother?” asked the next reporter, whom Tally didn’t recognise.

  “Yes,” Cash answered. Tally almost rolled her eyes. The guy would fail Reporting 101. Kinga picked up on Cash’s irritation and pointed at the next
journalist.

  “How do you think this exposé on your personal life has affected your game?”

  Cash raised an eyebrow. “Well, I’m here talking to you instead of playing today. What do you think?”

  As the press conference continued, Cash’s responses became terser, and in return, the reporters made their questions more pointed. Tally glanced at her watch. Five more minutes, and they’d be out of there.

  “Can you explain in more detail what happened that night?” asked Joe Martinez, an old adversary whom Cash had previously banned from his press conferences. Tally risked a glance at Cash. His face was impassive, but beneath the table, his fingers clenched tighter around hers.

  “What night?” he said in a droll tone.

  “The night you killed your father.”

  “Can you read?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then read the fucking article,” Cash snapped.

  “You don’t have anything else to add?”

  “No.”

  “That’s enough, Joe,” Kinga said, pointing at the next reporter.

  “Why did you get your girlfriend to write the article rather than a real journalist?” Martinez said, ignoring Kinga’s attempts to move the process along. “Was it because she dumbed it down, gave it the right slant to get the public on your side? Or is that the extent of her journalistic prowess?”

  She tightened her grip, but Cash easily tore his hand from hers. He half-rose out of his seat. “Yeah, she dumbed it down,” he said, leaning across the table to glower at Martinez. “So fuckwits like you with half a brain had a chance of following it.”

  Martinez laughed. “Is that the best you’ve got?”

  Tally guessed what Cash was going to do, but she was a second too slow. She lunged for his arm, but he’d already vaulted over the table. Isaac dashed across but he, too, wasn’t in time. There was a sickening crunch as Cash’s fist connected with Martinez’s face, followed by a collective gasp around the room.