“C’est n’importe quoi!” Caroline said, moving closer and nearly bumping chests with him.
“It is not bullshit, Caroline, and you know it. You’re so desperate to find the next big star, you’re willing to put this girl’s career on the line.”
The volume of their argument grew with every insult, and Indy rolled her eyes. She hated when adults who were supposed to have their shit together acted like this, which was a lot more often than any of them would ever admit. “You two let me know when you’ve worked it out.”
Her words went unacknowledged and she spun away from the court, practically running down the pathway to get away from the shouting. It was like she was seven years old again and her parents were screaming at each other over whatever crap they were always fighting about.
She made it into the atrium, leaned against the wall, and slid to the floor. Roy sent her an encouraging smile from his desk and Indy managed a grimace in return, despite how pissed off she was. This should have been one of the most exciting days of her career. She was going to Paris tomorrow. She’d be playing on the famous clay courts of Roland-Garros like so many legendary athletes before her. This wasn’t how she imagined feeling. She should have been ecstatic and nervous and maybe even a little scared, but not annoyed. She let her head fall to her knees.
“Well, this can’t be good.”
Her head shot up at the sound of Jack’s voice. He stood over her in a sweaty T-shirt and shorts, racket in hand.
“Hey,” she said, feeling a flush creep up over her cheeks. The last time they’d spoken she’d thrown caution to the wind and kissed him, and even if it was just for a moment, he’d kissed her back.
“You okay?”
“Peachy.”
“Want to talk about it?”
“No,” she said, resting her head against her knees again, hoping he’d take the hint.
“Okay, then,” Jack mumbled. She raised her head an inch to watch him go and saw his broad back as he moved to the far end of the atrium.
“Wait,” she called out, leaping to her feet and racing to catch up to him. He was part agent, part coach, and regardless of what was—or wasn’t—going on between them, he was probably the best person to ask about the argument most likely still raging out on the practice court.
He stopped without warning outside the door to the men’s locker room and stepped to the side, a move Indy hadn’t anticipated. It put him right in her path and she crashed into his back. He whirled around, probably to try to catch her before she fell, but as he did, his elbow collided with the side of her head.
Stars exploded in front of her eyes and a sharp pain began to radiate from the point of impact.
“Shit, Indiana, I’m sorry.”
“I’m okay,” she said, her eyes squeezed shut. She pressed her hand against her temple, only to pull away with a hiss when the ache increased with the pressure. Just what she needed, another blow to the head.
“Come on,” he said, his hands cupping her face. “Open your eyes and look at me.”
His tone was so authoritative that she obeyed without question, meeting his gaze. “Any blurriness?”
“No.” She could see every fleck of green and gold in his eyes and small brown ring around his pupils that she’d never been close enough to truly appreciate before.
“Ringing in your ears? Are you dizzy?”
“Nope,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m okay.”
“Good,” he said, and she could actually see his concern melt away and his mask of indifference fall back into place. She hated when he did that, when his personality shut down like he was afraid if he was nice to her for more than two seconds she’d try to rip his clothes off or something. Maybe that was why he always shut down, maybe hedidn’twant her and she’d been lying to herself the whole time. “Tell me what’s got you so upset. I’d like to help, if I can.”
Indy sighed in defeat, the adrenaline spike fading with his words, so instead of calling him out on it, she explained the power struggle going on between Dom and Caroline on the practice courts.
Jack looked thoughtful for a moment and then said, “That’s an easy fix. Caroline must have Dom really tied up in knots if he didn’t figure it out right away.”
“Yeah?” she asked.
“You accept both invitations and you wait it out. Bari doesn’t get started until the second week in Paris. You’d have to at least get to the third round of the women’s doubles draw before you’d play your first-round match. If you have to drop one after that, so be it, but there’s no reason to worry about that until it actually happens, if it actually happens. Once those two calm down enough to think clearly, they’ll figure it out on their own. No sense in you worrying about it.”
Indy smiled and all the stress of the last few minutes completely disappeared. “I should have hired you to be my agent.”
Jack shrugged, his expression blank again. “I don’t know about that.”
