“You’re an absolute menace.” I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t help but smile.
“And you,” she said, pointing at me, “are absolutely telling meeverything.”
•••••
I stepped into the café Alex had suggested. It wasn’t far from the hotel where most of the players stayed, and I had to admit the atmosphere was exactly what I needed. Comfortable, low-key, with just enough hum of life to feel alive without the chaos of fans or the sterile hush of a lobby.
But the place was empty. Completely empty. Not a single customer in sight, even though it was the middle of the day. Just the staff behind the counter, moving at an unhurried pace like this was perfectly normal. The café felt almost private, a rare gem where the barista probably knew everyone’s order but hopefully not my name.
I was dressed down: comfy jeans, a cropped top, a cap pulled low, and oversized shades. Not exactly a disguise, but close enough. I knew fans could recognize me anywhere (apparently even from my walk, according to Maddie), but here, I hoped for at least some anonymity.
Just then, Alex slipped in. I nearly laughed out loud. She was rocking oversized sunglasses, a baseball cap pulled low, a hoodie, and sweatpants. Between us, we looked less like professional athletes and more like we were about to film a low-budget heist movie.
I raised an eyebrow as she slid into the seat across from me. “Incognito much?”
She pulled off her shades with a smirk. “Please. This is peak casual. If I were really going undercover, I’d add a fake mustache.”
“I could pop into the corner shop and get one in under five minutes. Hardly a challenge.”
Alex leaned back, grinning. “Wouldn’t be the weirdest pre-lunch activity you’ve roped me into.”
I snorted. “You’ve known me all of five minutes, Cadiz. What kind of chaos do you think I’m planning?”
“The dangerous kind,” she said without hesitation, tapping the table like it was obvious. “You say things all calm and understated, then suddenly I’m in the middle of an adventure I didn’t sign up for.”
I narrowed my eyes but couldn’t stop the smile tugging at my lips. “You mean like agreeing to a simple bet that somehow turns into a lunch date?”
“Exactly.” She flashed a too-innocent look.
Our waitress arrived with two steaming lattes, each topped with intricate leaf art, and avocado toast stacked high with cherry tomatoes, feta, and a drizzle of olive oil.
Alex gave a slow, satisfied nod when the plates landed, looking smug enough that I half expected her to claim she’d made the food herself.
Before I could tease her, a woman in a neat black apron approached, clearly the manager. She clasped her hands together, eyes bright with recognition.
“Miss Cadiz,” she said warmly, “Everything is all set. We’ve prepared all the best sellers you requested.”
She hesitated, her smile stretching into something a little more starstruck. “And, um—just so you know, we’re all massive tennis fans. The staff in the back practically screamed when they realizedyouwere the one who booked the place.”
Then her gaze flicked to me, eyes brightening even more. “And when we heard Olivia Smythe would be joining you…” She pressed a hand to her chest, laughing softly. “Well, let’s just say half the kitchen had to take a minute. You’ve got quite a fan club here.”
Alex just lifted a polite smile, as if this was standard protocol for her.
I cleared my throat, suddenly aware of how warm my face felt. “That’s… really lovely to hear,” I said, offering her a small, genuine smile. “Please tell them I appreciate it. And thank you for looking after us.”
The manager turned to me, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “I have to admit, I was shocked when she booked out the entire café for lunch. Middle of the day! I thought she was joking.” She laughed lightly. “But we’re all thrilled. Anything else you need, just let us know.”
With one last bright smile, she gave a polite nod to both of us before slipping away toward the counter, preparing whatever Alex had requested.
“You rented out the whole place?” I stared at Alex.
She shrugged, completely unfazed. “It’s quieter this way.” She took a sip of her latte like she hadn’t just admitted to something outrageous. “And they make better food when they’re not rushed.”
I could only shake my head, fighting a smile. “Perfectly normal behaviour.”
She arched a brow. “You say that like you wouldn’t do the same if you could.”
“Rent out an entire café?” I scoffed. “I’d die of embarrassment before I even finished dialing.”
