Not So Snow White (22 page)

Max grabbed the finger she'd poked at him, not roughly, but he held on to it all the same. "If it turns into a circus, I'm going to personally toss you out."

"I'd like to see you try."

Then he shocked her. He smiled. And there was something wild, almost wicked, glittering from those dark eyes of his. "You think you know me, Tess. You have no idea who you're fooling with."

She was still standing there a full minute after he'd left the room. Wondering where in the hell all that had come from.

And what in the hell she was going to do about it.

It didn't occur to her until much later, as she climbed into the Glass Slipper limo with Aurora on their way to Wimbledon, that during her entire exchange with Max, as she'd a
r
gued Gaby's side, she'd never once thought about her personal agenda in all this.

Ch
a
pter
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7

M
ax paced, waiting for the players' box to empty as the match preceding Gaby's ended. To his surprise, they had been put on Court Two; though much smaller than the stadium Centre Court and Court One, it was still a show court. Of course, it was also known as the Graveyard Court, notorious for being the scene of the early demise of many highly seeded players. Davina wasn't that highly seeded, but she was the only seeded player of the two playing today. So Max would be perfectly happy if the court's, curse worked in his favor this afternoon. He shifted to one side as the steady stream of fans pushed past him. He was tall enough to see over most heads, but a quick look around didn't bring any sight of Aurora or Tess. He was happy about the latter part, anyway.

He'd made sure Aurora knew she was welcome, even offering to let her ride over with him and Gaby. But she had a lunch date with her partners, Vivian and Mercedes, and had assured him she'd just have the Glass Slipper limo drop her off, which
was what worried him. Tess could easily finagle herself into that situation. He'd have gotten passes for all three of Glass Slipper Inc.'s "fairy godmothers'' if they could have just granted him one wish: to make sure Tess was anywhere but here this afternoon.

"Thanks for having me on, Mary, John. A pleasure to see you both."

Max froze. He could swear he'd just heard Tess's voice,
But…
where? He scanned the throng again. It had sounded close by. Real close by. Mary and John, who? Thanks for having her on what?

"Well, it's a pleasure to have you up in the booth with us,
Tess. I hope," came a very familiar voice, followed by a short, gravelly laugh.

John. As in John McEnroe. Up in the booth? With John McEnroe? "Oh, shit." Several older women decked out for an afternoon of watching tennis in ornate day hats and crisp linen suits—only the British—paused to give him sharp looks. "Sorry, ladies," he mumbled.

Then he spied the source of the disembodied voices. A young man across the crowded alley had a handheld satellite television. Max was tempted to push his way over there and beg, borrow,
or
steal the thing.

Gaby was set to play momentarily. And Tess had not only openly defied his request and come down here anyway
…
she was apparently more concerned with getting airtime than she really was in supporting her
protégée
. But then he'd known that, hadn't he? Had told her as much.

So why did he feel so disappointed? Had he really been hoping she'd prove him wrong? What possible difference would it make?

No, he was pissed because he had no goddamn idea what
she was saying. On air. To millions of people. That's what had him so upset. Not some stupid hope that he'd only just now realized he'd been harboring, that maybe, just maybe, she had a point and he'd been judging her too harshly. Right. Of course he was just disappointed for Gaby's sake. She was the one who was going to suffer from all this. Not Max. If it weren't for Gaby, he couldn't care less what Tess Hamilton did or didn't do. It's not like she mattered to him otherwise.

Right. Christ, he didn't have time for this. Other than going up to the television booth and dragging her out of there, he couldn't shut her up, but he should at least know what the hell she was saying so he could be prepared for whatever fallout would inevitably occur afterward. Obviously they were going to ask about he
r
relationship with Gaby, and her relationship with him
…
Shit.
He really needed to get up to that booth. Maybe just seeing his face in the background by the various technicians would be enough to shut her up. Or at the very least give fair warning.

Yeah, right. When had Tess ever once shrunk away from
a public display of…
well, anything she wanted to publicly display? Exactly never. The woman didn't know the meaning of discretion, much less ever practice it. And if he'd ever been tempted, even for a split second, to think otherwise, the sight of his face plastered all over those newspapers today should have provided ample proof to the contrary.

The stands had emptied and were beginning to fill up again for the next match. Gaby's match. He had to get in there. If Gaby didn't see anyone sitting in her section of the players' box, she'd wonder what was wrong. He knew she'd be disappointed not to see Tess there, but the one constant in Gaby's life was him. As long as he was there, she'd be focused. And she'd have a damn sight better chance of staying that way if Tess wasn't
there, creating a stir.
Dammit!
Now he didn't know what to expect. He raked his hand through his hair as he scoped out the crowd, but the man with the television had vanished.

"Max, darling? Why, there you are, my dear boy." Aurora materialized out of the crowd in a swirl of blue silk caftan and heavy perfume. "I've been looking everywhere for you." She smiled as she slid her arm through his. "My, my, this is really something, isn't it?'' She glanced around at the hive of activity filling the grounds on opening day, then back up at him. "Thank you so much for securing me a pass. What a wonderful surprise."

"It's the least I could do," he told her.

Aurora surprised him by rolling her eyes. "Now, now, you don't need to put up a false front on my behalf. I know you're likely very put out with me due to my interference, what with bringing Tess into the fold and all." She peered at him a bit more attentively. "I suppose I don't need to ask how you two are getting on."

Max definitely didn't have time, or the heart, for this. The other two women in his life were providing quite enough stress at the moment. "We're keeping lines of communication open." Which wasn't to say they actually listened to one another, as was made obvious today.

Not surprisingly, Aurora didn't look all that convinced. "I must admit I was a bit curious after seeing the headlines this morning. Although you are quite photogenic, dear." She gave him a quick reassuring pat on the arm. "I daresay you take after your father."

Max found himself relenting a little in the face of her sincere affection. "Thanks, I appreciate that. But I assure you it was all a giant misunderstanding."

"Those gossip rags will latch onto the slightest thing and blow it all out of proportion." Her expression was all innocence
as she sighed in complete understanding, but he knew her better than that. She was digging for details. "Horrible, really."

Max couldn't tell if she was hopeful he'd tell her she was wrong, or hopeful he'd tell her the gossip rags had it all right. Another cause for concern, for certain, if Aurora was in any way going in the matchmaking direction. Given her line of work, the very idea was doubly alarming. She couldn't possibly think, for one second, that a match between him and Tess Hamilton was anything other than a match made in hell.

"Yes, they certainly are. Listen, we should probably get inside, find our seats."

"Of course. This is all so thrilling." She patted his hand, banging his knuckles with the row of heavy rings she was sporting. The bracelets lining her wrist jangled as she squeezed his arm. "And don't you worry about the rest. I'm sure Tess will get it all squared away, you'll see."

Max stopped short, and had to grab gently onto Aurora to keep her from plunging ahead. "What do you know about what Tess is doing?"

Aurora blinked at him. "I'm sorry, dear, but you said you two were communicating and I thought you knew."

"I—I came earlier with Gaby. We haven't spoken since this morning."

"Well, she told me some nonsense about you wanting her to stay at Wexley during Gaby's match. I assured her you couldn't possibly mean such a thing. After everything the two of them have gone through these past couple of weeks, Gaby would be crushed if Tess wasn't here to support her." She held his gaze quite directly, making him feel like a schoolboy being stared at by Mother Superior.

And it worked, too. He felt guilty. And he wasn't even Catholic. Still, he wasn't sure what to tell her, nor did he have the time to stand around out here, stammering his way through
some ridiculous cock-and-bull story. So he told her the truth. What the hell. "I did tell her to stay home, Aurora, and I meant it. Gaby will understand."
Somehow. He'd make it up to her
. "Listen, it's a complicated situation. Why don't w
e head inside so Gaby knows we'r
e here. I'll fill you in while she's warming up
."

"That's a splendid idea." Her grip on his arm tightened a little, as did the smile on her face.

Well, too damn bad if he'd disappointed her somehow, too.
Welcome
to the club
, he thought, wondering, as they climbed their way into the stands, just how exactly he'd come to this place in life.

They'd just taken their seats when Gaby and Davina entered the courts with their tennis gear bags slung over their shoulders. Being on an outer court, there was no royal box as there was on Centre Court. There, if the box was occupied, the tradition was that players would turn in unison and curtsy, or bow as the case may be, before continuing on to their respective seats on either side of the court. Max would have said that he enjoyed his own country's grand slam, the U.S. Open, the best. Hard courts, rowdy fans, planes roaring overhead, night matches under the lights. The energy was wonderful, intense, and he'd always felt there was nothing like it.

He still felt that way. But sitting here now, the stands completely filled, watching his younger sister become part of the pageantry and history that was thi
s most venerable of the slams…
he couldn't help but get caught up in it. Just a little. And yes, maybe for a second or two, he pictured Gaby having to curtsy as she made her way onto Centre Court for the first time. She'd get that chance. Maybe not this year, but certainly that was in her future.

Thoughts of Tess, the tabloids, her saying God knows what on national television right this minute, threatened to spoil the moment, but he refused to let it.

Aurora squeezed his forearm. "She looks lovely, Max. So pretty in her Wimbledon white."

"Yes," he said, smiling as Gaby looked up, found him in the players' box, and beamed. "She certainly does." Most of the time when he looked at his sister, he saw how young she was, how inexperienced she still was. How much she still needed him. Today, however, she looked so poised, so polished, so professional. It was easy to see her future, out there on the courts, conducting business, getting the job done, doing what she loved. And he felt a little pang of something that felt a lot like grief, accompanied by a brief moment of what could only be described as sheer panic.

What was going to happen when she didn't need him anymore? What had he left himself with? Sure, he'd likely continue on as Gaby's manager and agent, handling
her business affairs and such…
but he wasn't worried about whether he'd have a job or not.

He was worried that he didn't have a life of his own to go with it.

As Gaby and Davina hit the ball back and forth, warming up, and Aurora chattered on beside him about the various outfits she was spying in the stands, and how she was dying to sample the famed Wimbledon strawberries and cream, Max's thoughts continued down that path. He remembered Tess taunting him, asking him if he had a life ou
tside of being Gaby's brother…
and it made him wonder about Tess herself.

He was watching his sister grow up and take on the adult responsibilities that came with being a touring professional. Tess had just walked away from all of that, from a huge life with a ton of commitments, a life that had been all-consuming since she was younger than Gaby. To what? What life did she have now?

He knew it wasn't about money. He had money. So did Tess. It was about finding your place, figuring out who you were in
this new dynamic. Is that why she put herself out there in the public eye? So she could still feel vital? He had no idea, really. But for the first time, rather than look at her as a bad influence on his sister, he thought about her as a woman first, a tennis player and a party girl second. He'd seen a hint of that woman the other day, when she'd escaped the press with him. What did Tess the woman, the one who was no longer also a tennis player, want out of life?

And why in the hell did he care?

He forced his attention back to the carefully groomed green grass of the courts. In a few days' time, the grass would be worn down to the dirt along the baseline. But right now, it was pristine and perfect, having been lovingly and meticulously maintained all year, just for this hallowed event.

The umpire called time and the line judges and ball girls and boys dutifully took their places, awaiting the first serve that would begin the match. All thoughts of Tess, his life, and the future that awaited them all, faded away as he watched Gaby take her place on the baseline and prepare to serve her way into her very first Wimbledon grand-slam event. His heart rate picked up. Aurora's nails bit into the skin of his arm as Gaby tossed the ball high, then sent it rocketing over the net.

"This is so thrilling!" Aurora whispered. "She's going to do well. I can see it in her eyes. She's determined, Max."

"Yes." That was all he could manage. His complete attention was riveted on the court as the first point played out.