‘Who, me?’ I said, mock innocently.
‘Nice try,’ said Marcus, standing up. ‘But you can see for yourself tomorrow, can’t you?’
‘It would be much more helpful to hear it directly from you,’ I said, shielding my eyes from the sun as I looked up at him.
He laughed and went to walk away. ‘See you at dinner?’
I nodded.
‘By the way, is it true I shouldn’t congratulate you on your win today?’ I called after him.
I still couldn’t believe it, and wanted to hear it directly from him.
‘There’s nothing to congratulate me for,’ he said, slowing his pace and looking over his shoulder. ‘I played terribly. I was sluggish, my backhand was all over the place, I didn’t move him around the court as much as I should have.’
‘But you won,’ I said, incredulous.
‘Luck,’ he said, turning his back on me and walking away towards his bungalow.
Chapter Ten
A table had been booked for dinner that night at the glamorous-sounding Coco Bay, a trendy Thai restaurant near the casino.Luxehad agreed to cover a daily food allowance of twenty-five euros, which I assumed probably wouldn’t even cover a starter, so I’d made a mental note not to get carried away with the food ordering, although things were likely to get awkward if everyone wanted to split the bill. I’d have to ask my accountant afterwards if I could write this off as a taxable expense if worst came to worst. It was part of my research, wasn’t it, watching how Marcus interacted with his team while off-duty? And Dean’s other client, Mia Stephens, was coming – I wanted to observe Marcus with another player. Would he feel instantly more connected to someone in the same industry? Were they close, given they had the same agent? Would anybody talk about anything other than tennis?
When I arrived at the hotel, Dean and Marcus were waiting on the soft chairs in the lobby. Dean looked pleased to see me, even if Marcus didn’t.
‘Ava! We were just talking about you!’
‘Were you, now?’ I said, taking a seat next to them.
‘I was explaining to Marcus that I need you two to be more openly affectionate,’ said Dean. ‘The momentum from the first paparazzi shots is waning and we don’t want people thinking your relationship is fizzling out before it’s even begun.’
He had a point. So far, I didn’t think we’d done a particularly good job of getting photographed together again – a family had snapped some photos of us as we’d talked on the beach earlier, but I hardly thought they had a hotline toHello!magazine. Perhaps Dean had been a little optimistic in thinking that me being spotted with Marcus once on a plane was going to make people think he was suddenly relationship material.
‘So what are you saying?’ asked Marcus, looking pissed off.
‘I’ve arranged for you to give Ava a tennis lesson tomorrow morning. It’s the kind of cute thing couples do,’ Dean declared.
‘Are you sure about that?’ I protested. ‘Because believe it or not I’ve been in a couple before, and tennis has literally never crossed my mind.’
‘First time for everything,’ said Dean. ‘And the photos will look great.’
I glanced at Marcus, who looked about as unhappy with the idea as I was.
‘And I need you to touch each other. Stare into each other’s eyes. Hold hands, for Christ’s sake. I’ve also tipped off the paparazzi at Coco Bay,’ said Dean, swiping up a glass of what looked like Scotch and taking a large mouthful.
I swallowed hard. Suddenly, things were happening really fast. Marcus and I could barely even look at each other, never mind hold hands – even if we did, it was going to look very obviously staged, surely?
‘Oh, and I’ve told Mia you’re an item. So for God’s sake ham it up in front of her when she comes down to join us.’
Marcus looked appalled. ‘Why on earth would you do that?’ he asked.
‘We’d already decided that we weren’t going to lie to people,’ I added, also getting slightly concerned. Marcus and I had had thisdiscussion, and now Dean was going all rogue on us, putting us in positions neither of us felt comfortable in.
Dean shrugged. ‘This entire exercise will have been for nothing if someone finds out it’s not real. We need to stick to our story, and that means having to tell little white lies to friends, family, ex-lovers, whatever.’
I raised my eyebrows, suddenly on high alert. Had he said ex-lovers? Presumably he wasn’t talking about me and Charlie, so he could only have meant there’d once been something between Marcus and Mia? I had a million questions in my mind, none of which a fed-up Marcus looked up for answering.
‘Talk of the devil,’ said Dean, standing up as Mia approached, gliding her way across the foyer like something out of a Victoria’s Secret runway show.
