Not So Snow White (15 page)

Gaby nodded, then said, "It feels like I've been waiting a long time for this chance."

Fionula laughed. "Sixteen—"

"Almost seventeen," Gaby corrected, then smiled.

"Almost seventeen, and so impatient. Intimidated at all? Your run through the juniors these past two years was quite impressive."

"Thank you. I was really fortunate to do so well back then. It gave me a lot of confidence in making the decision to join the WTA tour. But of course, now
I'm facing players with far mor
e experience and I know it's not going to be easy out there. I'm just hoping to play my best tennis and see what happens from there."

Max settled into his seat as Gaby recited her standard responses. Fortunately, she had the warm smile and comfortable posture to make it seem as sincere as the first time she'd said them.

"You've drawn a tough first-round opponent. Davina Slutskaya. Have you or your brother done any research on her?"

"A little. I think this Wimbledon will be a big opportunity for me, mostly as a chance to see the players in action, learn more about everyone's game, and prepare myself better."

"A big learning curve, certainly."

Gaby nodded, friendly, open smile in place. "Don't get me wrong, though"—she laughed lightly—"I want to win. I'm going out there with the idea that I'm going to do everything I can to beat my opponent. I don't know how well I'll do, but they'll have to play me to beat me."

Fionula's smile grew, her first sound bite now firmly in hand. "So, I know your first slam was the French last month. How do you feel about your result there?"

"A little frustrated. I thought I could have done better, but the draw sort of went against me."

"You took Serena to a third set. Pretty impressive."

Gaby smiled. "It would have been more impressive if I'd beaten her. She came back strong in the third and, well, it was almost embarrassing."

"How did it feel to play on the showcase court there?"

"Oh, that part was fantastic. I love the crowds, the energy."
Her grin grew a shade cocky. "I'm looking forward to a lot more of that."

Fionula laughed again. "Well, we all know how determined you are, and how focused you've been on winning. There's been a lot of talk about you, in the press and on the tour among your peers. Looks like America has their hopes set on you to be the next big thing. Does that add unwarranted pressure to you to produce big results right away?"

Gaby shook her head. "I suppose it could if I let it, but I don't really think about it that way. There has been a lot of attention since I started winning a string of major tournaments in the juniors, so I'm kinda used to it. Mostly I just use it as motivation to play better. I do want to be one of the best.
"
She grinned. "And not just from America."

"Well, that kind of moxie will probably be a help to you as you move further into the field. What are your hopes for Wimbledon? You were quoted after Birmingham as being upset with how you performed there. You've stayed on here in London to prepare for the slam?"

"Yes, I have. It's been good for me. We're trying to pace my first year on tour so it's not too overwhelming. I've had a little rest and a lot of time to focus on my game."

As the conversation continued on, Max relaxed even more. The interview appeared to be pretty routine. Thank God. He had enough to deal with at the moment. Which was where he'd let his thoughts drift, thinking what would be the best way to let Gaby down about this whole Tess thing. The more he thought about it, the more he was sure it was the right thing to do. This kind of media attention—nonthreatening and benign, with a positive spin—was perfect for Gaby. She'd earned the spotlight, so there was no avoiding it completely, but this was the best compromise. If by chance she won a round or two, the attention would intensify, but again, in a pedestal-building kind
of way. Young phenom-does-good was the kind of press she'd get, as they tried to turn her into something the fans would rally behind, a new face in tennis.

Of course, he'd been around enough to know that if Gaby grew into the kind of pro player that was as dominant as she had been as an amateur, then the claws would come out. They loved nothing more than to knock someone down after building them up. But he'd deal with that later. Much later. Another reason to keep Tess far far away from Gaby at this stage of her career. Let her have her time to shine early.

"Are you doing anything special or different to your game as you
get ready for your second slam?
"

"Well…
"

Max's thoughts were drifting at that point and he wasn't really paying much attention to the interview. If he had been, he'd have heard the small pause from Gaby before she answered. Then he might have been able to stop her in time. But he hadn't. So he couldn't.

And that's when everything went south.

"As a matter of fact, I do have a secret weapon of sorts."

Fionula sat forward right about the same time Max processed the phrase "secret weapon" and turned to look at them both. But before he could open his mouth, Gaby had already opened hers.

"Tess Hamilton has been giving me a few pointers."

"Really?" Fionula's carefully styled blonde hair all but popped out of its bobby pins. Fen poised, smile sharp, her direct gaze even sharper, she asked, "How did
this turn of events come about?
"

Max's mouth did open then, but nothing came out. Gaby wisely didn't so much as look at him. Even smarter, neither did Fionula.

A dozen wild thoughts careened through his head. He
should stop the interview right now.
Dammit,
Gaby
. Beg Fionula not to run the information. Pay her off, if necessary. Do something. Anything.

"My wonderful brother Max set me up at the Glass Slipper spa for a little break after my early loss in Birmingham. And a mutual friend of Tess's works there and sort of hooked us up. It kind of blossomed from there.
"

There was a rap on the door, then the photographer ducked in, "Sorry I'm late. Are we ready?"

Max used that as his cue. He knew better than to try and squash the interview. It would just make Fionula all the more determined to run it. But he didn't have to let Gaby keep talking, either. He came off the couch in one fluid move. "Yes, we are." He made a show of looking at his watch. "I'm sorry, Fionula. We have another interview scheduled shortly. I hope you don't mind if we wrap this up."

"No, no, not at all." Fionula stood and smoothed her jacket. "I appreciate you giving me your time."

He could tell she was nervous now. His mention of another interview probably had her twitching to file her story and beat everyone else to the punch. Good, that would get them out of there that much sooner. Before his idiot sister could do anything else to sabotage herself.

Photos were taken on the balcony with a backdrop of a rare blue London sky. And mercifully over quickly. They said their good-byes to the photographer and a cheery Simon escorted them back to the lift, waving to them as the doors closed between them.

Max had spent the entire photo shoot schooling himself to be calm and collected when he finally got Gaby alone. He'd also tried to figure out a way to abort the glaring attention that was about to avalanche down upon them. He wasn't too successful at the latter. And as it turned out, the former was too much to
ask, as well. "What the
hell
were you thinking
?
'' he exploded the instant the lift began its ascent. "Do you have any idea what you've just done?"

Gaby appeared to be every bit the calm, collected customer he'd wanted to be. But the mirrored side panel afforded him a view of the way she was twisting her hands together behind her back. "Yes. I made sure I got
my coach for the next two weeks.
"

"I told you I'd think about it; you didn't need to go to that extreme."

"Please," she said. "You were sitting over there figuring out the best way to tell me it wasn't happening."

"You have no idea what I was thinking."

She folded her
arms. "So you were going to let me keep her on, then?"

Max had seen that trap coming. "That's not the point. The point is that there were ways to handle this and ways not to. You couldn't have chosen a worse way. Which, by the way, is exactly why I didn't want you two working together. I know we've talked a lot lately about how you've seen and done more than most girls your age, but that right there showed your immaturity. You acted without thinking about the consequences, which won't be minimal, I can guarantee you that."

"I can handle the media. I had Fionula eating out of the palm of my hand."

The lift doors opened and they both stalked out and headed toward their rooms.

"Only because that's the kind of story she wanted from you. Fresh face, up-and-comer on the tour. She was building you, that was her angle. But you and I both know why they spend so much time on fresh meat like you early on. So they can tear you down later." Max used his card key and flung their door open, gesturing her inside first. "Well, guess what, you've moved past
go and gone directly to the meat-eating portion of your media campaign. Congratulations."

If he thought his lecture would have a sobering effect on her, he was quickly disabused of that notion.

"Oh, don't be such a drama king. I doubt anyone is going to care all that much that she's helping me out. I didn't say she was my coach specifically, just that she was giving me some pointers. We can blow this off."

"Maybe you can. But did you stop to think what this might do to Tess?"

She looked at him blankly.

"This will bring attention to her, as well. Maybe she doesn't want the world to know she's helping you out. Maybe she doesn't want every young player on the tour hitting her up for practice tips."

Clearly Gaby hadn't thought about that particular angle and he
r
expression grew troubled. "She handles media attention all the time," she said, but not with much conviction. "I'm sure this will barely register with her."

"That's not the point and you know it. The point is, you didn't give her the option of inviting this kind of attention into her life. She might not be too happy with you, either, when she finds out."

Gaby's jaw took on a stubborn tilt, but uncertainty was clear in her eyes. "I'll explain it to her. She'll understand. Sometimes a girl has to take matters into her own hands."

"Something you've learned from Tess?"

"No," she shot back, hurt and anger now blazing from her dark eyes. "I managed to figure that out all by myself." And with that, she stalked into her bedroom and slammed the door shut behind her.

He heard the lock click a moment later. Which they both
knew was merely symbolic since he had the key to her room in his pocket. But he honored the silent request. For now.

There were other things he needed to tend to at the moment. And quickly. It was a toss-up whom he wanted to see first. Aurora or Tess. A quick phone call later, he was smiling, if a bit grimly. Apparently his luck was turning. They were both presently at Wexley House.

He rapped on Gaby's door. "I'm heading out to start damage control. I'll be gone a couple hours. Stay in here until I get back. Don't answer the phone and don't answer the door. And don't even think about messing with me on this. Understood?"

Gaby might be headstrong and rebellious, but even she knew where to draw the line when they were at loggerheads. "Understood," came her muffled, if petulant, reply.

Max sighed and leaned his forehead against the door. Why did it always have to be so damn hard? "I'll call you when I'm on my way back. I'll pick us up something for dinner."

There was no reply.

With another sigh, he grabbed his key and shoved it in his pocket along with Gaby's before heading out. If Tess was so damn fond of media attention, then she was about to become a very happy woman. And since it was easier for him to let this be somehow all her fault, he felt it was only fair that she help him figure out how to keep Gaby out of the white-hot glare as best as possible. Maybe Aurora could pull another fairy godmother trick from up her sleeve, wave the proverbial magic wand, and make this all disappear.

There were several other players staying at their hotel and a small gaggle of photographers mingled out front by the shrubbery that flanked the front drive. Max pulled his baseball cap down and hunched his shoulders as he passed them by. "A magic wand would come in real handy right about now."

Chapter 12

A
urora settled in one of the high-hack chairs facing the massive fireplace in Sir Robin's parlor. "I still think we should have told him ourselves. Poor Gaby. He's not going to be happy about this." Aurora sipped her sherry and sighed a little. "Stubborn man. If he'd only open his eyes, he'd see what a wonderful job you've been doing with her."

"Trust me, I tried to get Gaby to let me do it. It's genetic, that stubborn trait. And she's had many years of handling him under her belt. She'll deal with it the right way."

"You'll have to pardon an old lady's befuddlement, but I simply do not understand what there is to 'handle' about this whole endeavor. He should be grateful you're willing to step in and help her out. Most players would kill for such an advantage."

"I've explained his concerns to you."

Aurora sniffed and waved a heavily ringed hand. "Honestly. Men. When it was McEnroe or Connors, everybody smiled affectionately and called them rascals. A woman knows her own
mind and goes after what she wa
nts and she's some kind of she-
devil."

Tess paused midsip and smiled rather wryly. "Yes, well, you can't honestly say I didn't deser
ve at least some of the names
they tagged me with. But you're also right, a double standard does exist. Why do you think John has a commentating job and someone equally ou
tspoken, like Martina, doesn't?"

"Or like you, dear. Have you considered it?"

"Let's just say no offers have b
een forthcoming," she replied
with a laugh.

Tess sounded as if none of that mattered to her, but Aurora knew differently. She still hadn't confronted Tess with her knowledge of the dire state of her financial affairs, She'd refused to allow Aurora to pay her as a Glass Slipper employee, but now that she'd agreed to work for the Fontaines, though briefly, there would be at least some income on the near horizon for her. It wouldn't be enough to save her in any sense, but it would buy her some time. Aurora so wished she had contacts to help Tess out, and though she knew plenty of people, in this instance, she was somewhat hamstrung. She couldn't force anyone to offer Tess an endorsement deal. And with Tess no longer playing, there was nothing really to sponsor.

Watching Gaby and Tess work together, as she'd gotten the chance to do the day before—my, what a fiery duo they could be!—she couldn't help but hold on to the hope that their partnership would continue beyond this one event. She knew that in the eyes of her peers, it would be something of a humbling experience for Tess to become a full-time coach, but she couldn't help but think that maybe that could be the niche that Tess so needed. Something that would ground her, something she could really care about. And to hell with what anyone thought.

"Which, to be honest," Tess added, "is probably a wise decision. Putting a mike on me during a live match could be risky.
I'd get all involved and who knows what would pop out of my mouth. Politically correct, I'm not. I'd be the reason the sports world would have to adopt the five-second delay."

"Oh, pish posh. Perhaps if more people spoke up and told it like it is, the world would be a better place."

Tess sipped her drink. "Oh, I agree. But don't hold your breath."

Aurora sniffed. "If the public can handle Mr. McEnroe as a commentator, they can handle the likes of you."

"You're the one who brought up the double standard. Outspoken men making blunt statements are viewed as visionaries of the sport. Women, on the other hand? Hey, we're just supposed to smile sweetly and look really hot in our cute little tennis outfits."

Aurora looked rather pointedly at Tess's skimpy hot-pink spandex tennis shorts and a fuzzy lime-green sweater. The sleeves of which were so long they almost completely covered her hands, a fashion look Aurora was aware of, even if she didn't understand it. Aside from getting in one's way, it not only threatened to trail through a dinner plate, but it also hid one's hands. And all those lovely ring fingers. Ah, well. Youth.

She supposed she should have been thankful Tess had attempted to accessorize. Though using the term in these circumstances was being quite generous. Tess had conceded to the evening chill that was ever present in Wexley House by adding a pair of matching fuzzy lime-green socks. At least she'd managed to color coordinate. Everyone had to start somewhere.

"Well, dear," Aurora said, meeting Tess's amused gaze, "you definitely did your part on the latter. Some of your tennis togs—what there was of them—raised more than an eyebrow."

Tess spluttered a short laugh, then raised her glass up in toast. "Girls just want to have fun. I always thought the world looked at our sport as something played by stuffy old people at
overprivileged, private dub courts. I was simply trying to bring a little excitement to the game. It's an intense, demanding sport played by top-peak athletes and I just think we should celebrate that. We're not all pristine white dresses and perky ponytails."

"Mission accomplished, I dare say."

"Thank you." She laughed again. "And it's not like I was the first. Andre with his long hair and radical 'image is everything' personality started the revolution, but then he grew up, got married, shaved his head, and got all serious about his game. I proved you could be serious and an exciting trendsetter. And look at the women out there today. Shoot, Serena took what I did and exploded with it." She winked. "We're hot and happening now, baby."

"Perhaps you should consider designing your own line of tennis wear? Your delightful new sister-in-law could probably help you with that."

But Tess merely waved her drink at Aurora. "Serena has that corner covered. They're not interested in a has-been like me."

Aurora made a very unladylike sno
r
ting noise." 'Has-been.' Hardly. You sell yourself far too short."

"Hell, I can't sell myself in any fashion," Tess said, then quickly took a sip of her drink.

Aurora leaned forward. It was the perfect opening, the one she'd been hoping for these past few evenings. "You know, Tess, I've been meaning to talk to you—"

The rest of her sentence was cut off when the double doors to the parlor were pushed open
and Phillip, Sir Robin's major-
domo, leaned in. "Ever so sorry to interrupt, madam, but you have a guest." He glanced over his shoulder. "Mr. Max Fontaine, He seems somewhat agitated. Would you like me to see him out?"

Aurora's gaze connected with Tess's for a moment, then they both sighed.
Well, the cat was officially out of the bag now.
"No, Phillip, please show him in."

Aurora stood. Tess stayed where she was, curled up in the chair closest to the low-banked fire. She raised a questioning brow, but Aurora supposed it didn't much matter how they faced him.

He didn't so much walk into the room as stride into it. "Aurora, I'm sorry to intrude, but we need to talk. I'd like to speak to Tess as well, if—"

"Present and accounted for," she said, lifting her drink high so it could be seen over the back of the chair.

Max had come farther into the room and glanced in her direction, then did a double take. He opened his mouth, perhaps intending to comment on her psychedelic use of color in her wardrobe choices, but wisely closed it again.

Aurora took his arm in hers and led him to the embroidered settee. "Max, darling, I know you might not be as enthusiastic as we are about Gaby and Tess teaming up, and I know we should have been the ones to approach you with this, but per Gaby's wishes, we let her handle it. I should let you know that while I'm sympathetic to your concerns, I'm afraid if you're looking for my support in dissolving that partnership, then—"

"No, that's not why I'm here." He tossed a look to Tess. "Well, it is, but at the moment we have other, more immediate concerns."

Now Tess sat forward and uncurled her long legs. Aurora sighed inwardly What she wouldn't have given for just an inch or two more leg. All those cocktail dresses she could have worn
…

"What 'immediate concerns'?" Tess asked. "Is Gaby okay? Did something happen in her workout session?"

Max looked a little surprised at the sincere concern in Tess's tone.

Good
, Aurora thought. Once Max spent a little more time around her, he'd come to know what a loyal, decent person she was and his concerns would diminish.

Tess stood and walked over to the side table and poured herself another drink. "Or are you
just here to give us some song-
and-dance bullshit and be all Mr. Drama King as a way to get her out of working with me?
"

Or, on the other hand, Aurora amended, perhaps it was best to keep them apart as much as possible. Then she caught Max trying not to stare at Tess's snugly encased backside and her thoughts were turned upside down all over again. Of course, physical attraction was nothing new where Tess was concerned. But she had to admit, there was an undeniable combustible chemistry between the two of them. But perhaps she'd been too hasty in negatively labeling that volatile mix. Sometimes explosive chemistry was a good thing.

My, my
…
now wouldn't that be interesting?

"Care for a drink?" Aurora asked, sounding quite innocent, though her thoughts at the moment were anything but.

Max instantly yanked his attention from Tess, and Aurora was quite pleased with the bit of color that rose to his cheeks.
You're
only supposed to help take care of Tess's
financial
needs
, she reminded herself,
maybe
a few of her emotional ones, as well. You
'
re not here to play matchmaker.

Of course, the thought had taken hold now, the seed planted. She made a mental note to call Vivi later and discuss.

"I'm fine," Max said.

"Are you certain, dear? Your voice sounds a bit
…
gravelly."

Max eyed Aurora for a moment, but, being well practiced in the art, she was certain she appeared quite guileless.

"Thank you, but no."

"Oh, go ahead," Tess admonished. "Might loosen you up a bit."

Max turned back to Tess. Aurora noticed his jaw twitch. "Just because I don't plan my day around happy hour doesn't mean I'm a—"

"Tight ass?" Tess tilted her head, gave him a once-over, her gaze lingering on that particular part of his ana
tomy. "Although, I must admit…
"

Max held her gaze when she lifted it to his without so much as blinking, then when she merely raised her glass in silent toast, he pointedly looked back to Aurora. Who, in turn, just managed to hide her smile behind a sip of sherry.

"And this is the influence you think is appropriate for a sixteen-year-old?" Max asked her.

"Oh, come on," Tess interrupted. "Don't you think it's way past time to stop beating that poor, dead horse? You know, it's not like I have to be doing this. But I met your sister and I liked her. Be grateful for the assistance."

"I didn't ask for your assistance. We were doing just fine without your inestimable help."

"She can't keep a coach for more than two minutes and she's facing the second grand slam of her career with a first-round opponent that would make me sweat. But yeah, sure, why ask someone for help? Silly me."

"I was working on getting her
a coach. Trust me, there is no shortage of very talented people out there who want to work with her."

"I'm quite sure of that, too. But that doesn't help you, much less her, right this very second. Play begins in forty-eight hours. Right now I'm her best bet in terms of getting her head where it needs to be. I'm not going to screw around with her game, but whether you like it or not, I know what she's thinking, how she's likely to handle this, and better yet, I know exactly what it's going to be like out there."

"Not entirely, you don't," he muttered.

But Tess was on a roll and didn't hear him. Aurora flashed a quick glance at Max, but any thought she might have given to that troubling aside was swept away as the volleys continued. It
was rather like watching a tennis match, she thought, more amused than alarmed. Mostly because they both wanted the same thing: what was best for Gaby. So she would just sip her sherry and stand clear until the dust settled. She trusted that when that happened, they'd have a workable solution. Or she'd need to call for medical assistance.

"You know, you tried to keep us from working together once before. And we see how well that panned out."

"Exactly my point!" Max exploded. "It was one thing for the two of you to have a few chats in private. Working as her coach—*

"I'm not exactly her coach. I'm just giving her a few court-strategy pointers, the benefit of my experience. A mentor."

"Gaby said we're paying you a percentage, which means you're working for the Fontaines. I call that coaching."

"She insisted." Tess shrugged.

Aurora's attention sharpened. Tess was good, she'd give her that. All that court savvy, she supposed. To look at her right now you'd never know that she was all but financially destitute. Poor dear, Aurora wished there was a way to just put it all out there so everyone knew what was what. She was certain a reasonable solution to all their concerns could be achieved. But she also knew she couldn't betray Tess with revealing that kind of explosive information. Max was a good man, but Aurora wasn't entirely certain what he'd do with that bit of knowledge.