After the first tournament in D.C., which Sydney had returned from a week and a half ago, she’d succeeded on two fronts. Which was no surprise to Reese.
For the tournament in Cleveland that she was leaving for tomorrow, the network didn’t need her to go in early to prep, andsince she’d been so well received by fans, she didn’t have to fly in until midweek to handle the men’s and women’s quarter-finals and beyond.
It was clear that the network was just as enamored with Sydney as Reese was.
“It gives us extra time together,” Reese said, trying to focus on the positives. Even if she felt like she’d just gotten Sydney back, she wasn’t going to mention how she already missed her, even as she stood across the room.
Sydney stopped suddenly, whirling around to focus on Reese. “I’m sorry, babe. I’m being so inconsiderate right now. I know you’re going to lunch with Stan in an hour. I’m sure you’re thinking about that.”
“Your colorful commentary is a nice distraction,” Reese said, but still, her body tensed with Sydney’s words.
Coming over to the bed, Sydney sat down in front of Reese. “I’m sure he just wants to welcome you to the family.”
Reese lifted a dubious brow. “At least we’re meeting in a public place.”
“Hey,” Sydney said, enveloping Reese’s hand in Sydney’s own. “We have no reason to think this has anything to do with Brynn. You told her almost a month ago, and no one, including Grant, has said anything.”
Still, little prickles of apprehension skittered across Reese’s skin. Stan Fitzpatrick was a jovial, affable man, but he was as shrewd as they came in the business world. It was even more astounding that he was both deeply respected and incredibly well liked in spite of being at the top of his game. Which meant that, Reese’s own family melodrama aside, he was not a man that you wanted on your bad side.
“And I’ll still be here tonight, so if it does go badly, which it won’t, I’ll be here to give you a cuddle and a kiss.” When Sydney’s voice melted from decisiveness into sweetness, it made Reese’s stomach flip pleasantly, a feeling she was still trying to get used to.
She’d thought that after almost a month of sleeping together,the feeling would have abated, that she’d feel a little more in control of herself.
Only that wasn’t the case.
Every morning, she woke up next to Sydney’s softly snoring body, and she couldn’t stop the smile that bloomed wild across her face.
Sydney King was objectively the perfect woman, but she was also so much more than that. She was always in Reese’s corner, whether about Grant or her father or Reese’s struggles to find her footing at the inn. She made Reese so turned on that she thought she’d combust with want. She was a little petulant when she was annoyed with something, which, insanely, Reese found incredibly endearing.
She was just…perfect.
And as Sydney readied herself for the next tournament, with only the US Open in early September, the week before the wedding, left for her commitments this season, there was no doubt in Reese’s mind that they’d be extending her a full-time offer.
Sydney’s social media following had grown by tens of thousands in the last few weeks, and her agent had been calling almost daily to check in on Sydney.
Reese herself felt stuck in a sort of limbo where she wanted to preserve the life they had while also warming herself up to the fact that that likely wouldn’t be possible.
Hoping for the best and planning for the worst, as it were.
But even that wasn’t a fair assessment. Because if Sydney did take the offer, it would be what was best for Sydney, even if it would complicate their relationship. And Reese had promised herself that she’d do everything she could to support Sydney’s happiness.
Which… sucked, a little bit, but she didn’t want to be the thing that held Sydney back. She’d promised herself that at the start of things between them.
And it was made all the more difficult when she lookedat Sydney, remembering why she was already dressed in a tennis skirt and a tank top, her tennis bag ready and waiting at the door. “What time are you meeting my mom?”
Sydney looked down at her watch. “I need to leave in a few minutes. She’s meeting me at Manhaven.”
“I’ll walk out with you,” Reese said, scooting her legs off the bed and standing up.
Reese’s mom had officially retained her divorce attorney, and they’d started preparations for the divorce, first and foremost, serving her dad with the papers.
He’d reached out to Reese a number of times since then, about benign things and general check-ins which in and of itself was incredibly disconcerting. Her dad didn’t care about what she had going on, so she had to assume it was some weird play to get information about her mom, which, of course, she had no plans of giving him.
She’d left his messages on unread and gone about her life, liking the thought that because her mom was making this decision, Reese, too, could effectively cut ties with him.
He and Grant could go on to build their dynasty together, and Brynn could ascend to the position of invisible hand that kept the Devereux men functioning.
“And you’re sure you’re okay playing babysitter to my mom?” Reese grabbed her phone off the night table, working to quell her nervousness.
