Code of Conduct

by Cheyenne Blue

  Joy at Viva’s words suffused her nerve endings. She drew Viva towards her and slipped her arms around her waist, and they came together in a tight embrace. Gabriela sighed and laid her head on Viva’s shoulder, letting the rightness of the moment steal through her.

  Finally.

  Shirley had pulled some strings and managed to secure some premier sporting journalists to attend the press conference, and the room was packed. It seemed word had leaked of Viva’s complete retirement, but not the reason for it.

  Viva sat alone at the table, facing a bank of cameras and microphones, as she had done so many times in her career.

  “Thank you for coming,” she began. Her voice shook slightly as she read her prepared speech about retirement, and then she opened the floor to questions. She pointed to Gavin, from the Melbourne paper, whom she knew was factual, rather than sensationalist.

  “Viva, we already knew your singles career was over, so why formally end the doubles as well? It’s not a usual step. Is it due to injury?”

  Viva shot a glance at Gabriela, waiting to one side with Shirley, and she smiled her reassurance. “No,” she said. “It’s for a more important reason than injury. It’s to protect the career of someone I care deeply about.”

  There was a second of silence, then a cacophony of calling.

  “Gavin, you have more to ask?” Viva said.

  “Is this the woman you were linked with during the Australian Open?” He consulted a tablet. “The official, Gabriela Mendaro?”

  “It is, yes.” Viva clasped her hands on the table and leant forward. “My private life is, as much as I can keep it, private. However, this is important not just to me, but also to Gabriela. My career is over; Gabriela’s is still to peak. For that reason, I state for the record that Gabriela and I were not in a relationship during the Open.” Gabriela’s gaze from the wings of the stage warmed her, waves of love and reassurance flowing towards her. She took a sip of water to ease the lump in her throat.

  “She hopes to make gold badge?” a journalist from a New Zealand paper asked.

  “Indeed. And that cannot happen if we have a relationship and I’m playing doubles. As Gabriela is important to me—she’s my partner—there really was no decision to be made.” She smiled around the room. “I’m leaving for love, ladies and gentlemen. I think you’ll find the headline is easy.”

  “Is Gabriela here?” someone called. “Can we have a picture?”

  Viva shrugged. “That’s not up to me.” Her eyebrow arched in question at Gabriela.

  Shirley whispered something in her ear and gave her a nudge.

  Gabriela’s nervous gaze met Viva’s, and then she walked across the stage.

  Viva rose to meet her and wrapped an arm around her waist. Together, they turned to face the flashing cameras.

  “Please, not too long,” Gabriela whispered. “I am not used to this attention.”

  Viva pulled her closer, her encircling arm protective.

  For a minute longer, they posed, ignoring the calls for them to kiss, and then with a wave, they left the conference.

  Shirley met them. “That was perfect.” She oozed satisfaction. “Gabriela, dear, you’re a natural in the spotlight. I wonder if I can find an advertising deal for the two of you together.”

  “Please do not,” Gabriela said. “I would rather stay in the background.”

  “Okay. Sports memoirs are selling well, and I don’t believe there’s any written by tennis officials. The stories you must have!” Shirley brightened. Her phone rang, and she waved at them as she disappeared down the corridor, phone pressed to her ear.

  “Was that terrible?” Viva squeezed Gabriela’s fingers.

  “Not too bad. But I mean it. Don’t let Shirley come up with any advertising deals featuring us as a cutesy lesbian couple.”

  “I won’t. I promise.” She glanced around. “Let’s leave.”

  Back at her Brisbane apartment, Viva poured two glasses of wine and turned on the TV. The news was on. They sat together on the couch, sipping wine and discussing where to go for dinner. For, as Viva said, they needed to celebrate their first official date as a couple.

  The news showed a snippet of the press conference. Viva tipped her head to one side and watched as Gabriela joined her on the stage. “You’re very photogenic. Maybe Shirley’s idea is a good one.”

  “No way.” Gabriela drew her legs up underneath her. “Make me do that, and you’ll find out exactly how unphotogenic I can be.” She scrunched her face up into an exaggerated leer.

  Viva rested against the back of the couch, her fingers idly caressing Gabriela’s bare thigh. The ordinariness of the situation stole over her. This was life from now on. She was a part-time tennis commentator, sometimes barmaid, sometimes pub cook. She was a supportive girlfriend, a partner, a lover.

  It sounded good.

  Chapter 28

  The week that Gabriela was in Malaysia dragged. Viva struck a deal with Max to buy the land and researched architects online, but she didn’t want to make any decision without Gabriela. Although they would, by necessity, spend many weeks apart, she hoped that it would feel like Gabriela’s home too.

  Viva was to commentate at the Qatar Open the following week. Her flight from Australia arrived a couple of hours after Gabriela’s flight from Kuala Lumpur. The taxi ride to the hotel through the modern city was fast. Viva propped her chin on her hand and stared out at the clean streets of Doha, barely seeing the waterfront, the swirl of people going about their business. Gabriela. The name reverberated in her mind, a drumbeat of need.

  The hotel used by the tour was one of the modern tower blocks by the water. The room was in Gabriela’s name. Conscious of local laws that meant homosexuality was still illegal, Viva checked in, asking for the room she was sharing with her colleague. The process seemed to take an eternity, but finally, she slipped her key card in the door and dragged her case into the room.

  Gabriela stood by the window, looking out at the heat haze.

  The door clicked shut behind Viva, locking out any prying eyes. She dropped the case with a thud.

  Gabriela turned from the window, and they moved towards each other. Gabriela’s arms went around Viva’s waist, Viva’s around Gabriela’s shoulders, and they hugged, their bodies pressed close.

  Viva’s breath stirred Gabriela’s hair. “I’ve missed you. Was it only a week? It seemed longer.” She shifted so that she could see Gabriela’s face.

  “Eight days. In that time, I have umpired seven matches and eaten too many noodles.”

  “I’ve bought land, told my parents the reason I’m retiring from doubles, and turned down a contract for us to advertise an overly sweet breakfast cereal together.”

  Gabriela’s eyes crinkled with her smile. “I’m glad you did all of that, although I’m particularly glad about the last one.”

  “We were to be having breakfast together, calling each other ‘honey’ and ‘sugar’, and then it cuts to the cereal, which is called honey sugar snaps or something. Shirley was most disappointed I refused to consider it.” She cupped Gabriela’s cheek, smiling as she leant in to the touch. “I don’t want to talk about Shirley or unhealthy cereals.” She pressed her lips against the soft down of Gabriela’s cheek. “I don’t want to talk at all.”

  “Oh?” There was a lazy smile in Gabriela’s voice. “You want to go out to eat and pretend we’re only colleagues? This is the Middle East, after all.”

  “I was thinking room service. Close the curtains, shut out the world.”

  Gabriela’s smile was beautiful. The way her mouth curved up, one side higher than the other, was mesmerising. Viva focussed on those lips. The memory of those lips on hers, on her breast, on her thigh, and other places in between, obliterated the thought of food. Food could wait. Gabriela could not. She leant in so that her lips hovered a centimetre from Gab
riela’s, her breath coming in small puffs.

  “Do you have to be anywhere this evening?” Viva asked. “I don’t. I’m not commentating until tomorrow afternoon.”

  “I have a most important engagement right here with you.”

  And then Gabriela closed the distance between their lips, pressing hers firmly over Viva’s, her insistent tongue pushing into Viva’s mouth. For a while they kissed, and the world closed in for Viva until there was only this room, this woman, these lips, that kiss. It grew in intensity, Viva’s lips taking and demanding, Gabriela’s giving back and asking for more, a clash of lips and tongues that was oh so satisfying and not nearly enough.

  Finally, Gabriela drew back, and without breaking eye contact, she unsnapped the buttons of her white shirt and pulled it away from her chest with a neat economy of movement. Her bra followed, then her pants. She stepped out of her undies, and, naked, closed the gap once more.

  “Have you forgotten how to undress?” Amusement threaded her tone.

  Viva hauled her T-shirt ungracefully over her head and fumbled at the closure of her pants, clumsy in her haste. She caught her toe in her undies as she shucked them and nearly tripped.

  “Your footwork needs attention, Ms Jones.” Gabriela’s voice hummed. “Other parts of your game also look like they need more care.”

  “I’ll need extra coaching. Know anyone who can assist?”

  “I’m sure I can help. We’ll start working on your stamina immediately.” Placing her palms on Viva’s chest, she urged her backwards until the bed caught her behind the knees and she tumbled onto it.

  Gabriela straddled her, her strong thighs gripping either side of Viva’s hips, her sex hot and damp on Viva’s leg. She leant forward, and her mouth hovered over Viva’s.

  Viva’s breath hitched in anticipation of the kiss, and she raised her legs, tipping Gabriela forward so that Viva could clasp her shoulders and pull her down.

  Gabriela’s tongue darted out to moisten her lips, and Viva’s gaze fixed on the small movement. The urge to pull Gabriela even closer to kiss her again was strong, but the delightful torment made her resist.

  Gabriela’s fingers found the end of Viva’s plait and unwound the elastic holding it in place. “You don’t need this now. I love to see your hair so wild and untamed.”

  “It’s easier when I’m travelling.”

  “Sí, por supuesto. But you’re not on a plane now. I like to feel it on my skin.” She worked the plait loose.

  And then Gabriela’s breath was warm on her cheek, and her mouth slid over Viva’s again, taking her in a kiss that was warm and sweet, heavy with lust.

  This is how it will be now, Viva thought, her mind already cloudy with desire. We will always have this between us.

  She arched her back and let Gabriela move down, along her body, until her nipples were bathed in the damp heat of Gabriela’s mouth. And lower still, her thighs parting to accommodate Gabriela’s lips and tongue and then fingers, bringing Viva to a shuddering crescendo.

  Later, they picked one of the queen beds to sleep in and lay naked on the sheets under the air conditioning. The TV was on, and a reporter was discussing the upcoming tournament.

  Gabriela turned to Viva. “Do you want to watch this?”

  “Not really.”

  Gabriela clicked the TV off and found Viva’s hand, threading her fingers through her own. Their future had to be mapped, small decisions made, a way forward for them.

  “I’m having dinner with Michi and Brett one night while we’re here in Doha,” Viva said. “You’re invited, of course, but—”

  “I will stay here,” Gabriela said. “Have an early night. I would love to get to know your friends better, but I cannot while Michi is still on the tour.”

  “I understand. I thought you’d say that, but I didn’t want you to feel excluded.”

  Gabriela pressed a kiss to Viva’s shoulder, tracing a triangle of freckles with her tongue. “Tell me about the house instead.”

  “There’s not much to tell right now. I’ve looked at a few architects’ websites, but I thought you might like to help me select.” Viva’s voice was hesitant, as if she expected the offer to be knocked back.

  “We will look at them together. Maybe without me, you will pick something ugly, with small windows and dark furnishings.” She pushed up onto her elbow and smiled into Viva’s face.

  “No, no. It has to be light and bright, with high ceilings and big doors and windows to see the view.”

  “A big, firm bed.”

  “Oh yes. I want to make love to you in morning sunlight, with the windows open to the outside.” Viva’s wave encompassed the room, the curtains closed tight against the bright daylight.

  “I just want to make love with you.” Something clenched tight around her heart. Happiness. Contentment. She traced Viva’s lower lip with her finger.

  Viva kissed the finger as it passed along her lip. “A tennis court, of course. Even though it won’t get much use, I don’t think I could live somewhere that didn’t have one.”

  “We can play together. Although I won’t be a match for you.”

  Viva’s eyes glistened, the emotion welling up in her face. “You will always be a match for me. Always.”

  Epilogue

  Two years later

  “There’s something so special about coming home.” Gabriela dropped her bag inside the door and looked around at their home. The space always had the power to make her relax and unwind, stresses and worries left at the door. “Two weeks in Melbourne is wonderful, but I love coming back here to some peace and quiet.”

  Viva followed her in, her own bag hitting the wooden floor with a thump. “You won’t think it’s peaceful when my parents and Jack arrive. Which will be in about ten minutes if the Waggs Pocket grapevine does its stuff. Somebody will have seen us drive through town and told them.”

  Gabriela went around the living area, raising the blinds to let the late evening light into the room. The house was everything they had hoped for and more. A modern space with high ceilings that was basically one enormous room. The kitchen was open-plan, the sleeping area half-hidden from the main room by a bank of bookcases. Only the guest bedroom and the bathrooms were totally private. A wide deck surrounded the house on three sides, so no matter the time of year, there was always sun or shade to be had.

  Viva stuck her hands on her hips and surveyed outside through the window. “I hope Jack remembered to water the garden this time.”

  Gabriela came up behind her and slipped her arms around Viva’s waist. “Is it terrible to say that I do not really care if he forgot? The kangaroos eat all the vegetables anyway.”

  “There is that.” Viva turned and wrapped her arms around Gabriela’s shoulders. “Have I said how much I love coming home with you?”

  “Not since two days ago, when you came back to our hotel at three in the morning after celebrating Michi’s Australian Open win.”

  “That was pretty spectacular.” Viva pressed a kiss to the top of Gabriela’s head. “I wish you could have joined us to celebrate, though.”

  “Maybe one day. When Michi is no longer an active player, she and I can become friends. In the meantime, I will play by the rules.”

  “Don’t expect Michi to retire anytime soon. That’s only her first grand slam title. She’s hungry for more.”

  “She may not get them. Some of the greatest players only ever won one grand slam.” Gabriela smiled up at Viva. “Genevieve Jones, one of Australia’s greatest players, only ever won a single US Open title, but her place in the history books is assured.” Her tone parroted the diction and delivery of a newsreader.

  “Thank you. A ringing endorsement from one of Spain’s top-level officials. Soon, if the rumours are true, Spain’s only gold badge official.”

  “Do not celebrate that one yet. After all,
the rumours said the same last year. But let us not talk about that. I would rather put our lips to other uses.”

  Viva’s slow smile crinkled the corner of her eyes. “Now you’re talking.”

  Their kiss was broken when a scrape on the deck outside announced the arrival of Viva’s parents, welcoming them home. Then a little later, Jack got a break from the bar to come over. By the time he went, the light had left the sky and there was only the hot summer night, the constant whirr of crickets, and the occasional call of a frog from the creek. The Southern Cross hung low in the sky, and moonlight bathed the deck in a silvery glow.

  Gabriela sipped the last of her wine. “I love you, you know.”

  Viva reached out a hand across the gap between their chairs. “And I you.”

  “Shall we go to bed?”

  “I should check my email first.” Gabriela stood, pulled out her laptop, and set it in the corner that she and Viva used as an office. Once the laptop had booted, she scrolled through her inbox. An email jumped out at her, and she stiffened, licking suddenly dry lips. “Viva, can you come here?”

  Viva came over, a glass of water in her hand. “What’s the matter?”

  Gabriela pointed. “That email. It’s from George Kostantis at the ITF. Maybe it’s my ranking for the year.”

  Viva pulled up a chair and sat. “It’s due. It always comes immediately after the Australian Open.”

  “I know.” She glanced at Viva. “I’m nervous.”

  “Don’t be.” Viva squeezed her hand. “The worst that can happen is you remain on silver level for another year.”

  Taking a deep breath to steady the butterflies in her stomach, Gabriela opened the email.

  Dear Ms Mendaro, I am pleased to inform you that the ITF has amended your level, effective immediately, and made the decision to promote you to gold badge chair umpire. Congratulations.