Not So Snow White (34 page)

A low hum started in the room as pens scratched on paper, recorders were held closer, and cameras once again began whirring.

"It is true that we were approached by a mutual friend and
that I wouldn't have been involved at all if that hadn't happened. But I must admit that I did have some less than altruistic reasons in taking on this job."

"Tess—"

She glanced at Max and shook her head. "You deserve the truth."

"Maybe." He slid his hand under Gaby's elbow. "Come on
,"
he said. "Press conference over."

Tess felt momentarily stricken. It was bad enough that she was about to humble herself in front of what amounted to the entire world once the stories were filed, but for Max to do such a complete turnaround and abandon her now hurt more than she was willing to admit. Not that he didn't have every right to distance himself and Gaby from her at this point, but still
…

She waited until Gaby stood and was helped out from behind the desk, then turned back to the microphone. "As I was saying—"

Max turned around, clearly surprised. "You, too," he said, holding out his hand. "Like I said, press conference over."

"But I need to explain—"

"Yes, you do. But not to them. You don't owe them anything. In fact, I think they've taken quite enough from you.
Have you done anything illegal
?"

"Of course not," she said, surprised at the question,

"Fine." He turned to look at Fionula. "Then what you do and why you do it is nobody's business but yours."

Her cell phone buzzed at her hip. A quick glance at the screen showed it was Alan calling. Word really did travel fast.

"Max—"

He held out his hand. "I've shared you with them enough for the past few weeks."

She glanced back at the filled rows and expectant faces. She'd become so used to living on a public stage, and she'd
used that stage to her advantage every bit as much as they'd used her to
sell papers. But maybe Max was r
ight. She'd given, she'd taken. Maybe it was time to call it a match, and
find an
other way to conduct her life. Out of the public eye. No matter what it cost her. So she did the hardest thing she'd ever done. She shut her mouth.

Offering nothing more than a smile, she slid her chair back. As if on cue, the room erupted in a renewed barrage of questions. They'd been given a taste of something juicy and she knew they wouldn't stop until they'd chewed every last bit of meat off that paper-selling bone. But that didn't mean she had to make it easy on them. Or even care what they did and didn't find out.

What was important was finding someplace private to explain everything to Max and Gaby. Once they knew and understood everything, she'd call her family and explain it to them, too. Well, Bobby and her dad, anyway. Wade would take his pound of flesh off of her eventually. After that, it didn't matter who knew what, or said what. Whatever happened after that was going to be conducted in private. She was officially out of the spotlight.

Even if that meant losing her house and living out of one of her cars. Which was a definite possibility. She didn't think Alan was calling to congratulate her on her little media blitz. And no matter how supportive he appeared at the moment, when
Max heard what she had to say…
well, she'd keep the SUV instead of the Boxster. More room for sleeping.

Max stepped out into the hall, followed by Gaby and Tess, only to find all three godmothers waiting for them. The shouted questions from the press only stopped when t
hey closed the door behind them.

"My goodness," Aurora said, fanning herself with a program. "It sounded like a mob scene in there."

"Close to it," Max said. He turned to the security personnel standing on either side of the door. "Can you take us—"

Tess moved in. "There is an office just outside the players' lounge that I used the other day. If it's possible, we'd like to use that for a short time. And we'd appreciate any privacy you could give us."

The guard nodded, then motioned them to follow him.

Moments later, all six of them were ushered into the small office Tess had used to meet with Alan. She'd debated asking to talk to Max and Gaby privately, but the godmothers deserved to know what was going on, too. Although it appeared they knew far more than she'd realized.

"I'm so sorry it came to that, dear," Aurora said, still fre
tting, twisting the rings on her
fingers.

"I believe I told you this would happen," Vivian said with a sniff. "Darling, we should have had this conversation weeks ago, but Aurora was convinced we had to do things her way. I knew it would end badly."

Aurora looked miserable. "I was only trying to do what was best for all of you. I know it's not much consolation, but my heart was in the right place."

"Enough, Vivi, Aurora," Mercedes said quietly. "Let Tess speak for herself."

They all shifted toward her, expectant looks lining their faces.

Tess couldn'
t have felt more awful. "Well…
I suppose some of you know at least part of the story." She looked at the godmothers.

Aurora smiled a bit sadly and Vivian merely nodded.

"It appears that Max's concerns about me were more well founded than even I wanted to believe. Over the last couple of years on tour, I wasn't quite as forward thinking as I should have been regarding managing my income, and everything else.
After the injury, the only thing that mattered was getting healthy and getting back on tour. I didn't listen to my advisors, and, well, I did find myself in something of a pretty major bind with the IRS."

"Tess?" Gaby's face was one of innocence lost. It would have happened sooner or later, but Tess would have hoped for later. And definitely would have preferred it not to have anything to do with her.

She lifted a hand. "All taken care of, but at the loss of pretty much everything I owned. I—I honestly thought I'd earn it back when my endorsement deals were renewed, but as it turned out, they weren't. None of them. And no new ones have been forthcoming. I'm apparently yesterday's news. I lost my management team, as well, and no one wanted to take me on. I haven't had to worry about money in a very long time, so I didn't take it seriously. I'm taking it very seriously now."

"So you really are broke?" Gaby asked in a hushed whisper. "All those titles and—"

Tess didn't think she could feel any lower. That roomful of reporters could take lessons from one too-wise-for-her-years teenager. "Close enough. When Bobby invited me over to London for the wedding, I thought it was my only chance to figure things out, drum up some interest, something, anything. You thought I was out partying every night. Well, I was out, but it wasn't for a good time. Honestly, I'm tired of that lifestyle, have been since before I retired. They were mostly corporate functions. I didn't see any other way of getting the attention I needed to prove to the sponsors and various other corporate entities that I was still a viable commodity. I can't get the attention on court any longer, so
…
"

"Couldn't you tell your family?" Gaby asked. "Wouldn't they help you out?"

Tess deflated even further. Gaby and Max were so close—
Gaby would have gone to her brother if she found herself in trouble.
Tess could have gone to hers…
but hadn't. "I didn't want to do that. Not only because I wouldn't ask that of them, but because I was embarrasse
d and more than a little humili
ated. Both of my brothers and my father are very successful—"

"So were you!" Gaby insisted. "It's not your fault that—"

"It's only my fault," she quickly corrected. "I have no one else to blame." She sighed. "And I will tell my family now, right after I get done here. Even without the help and all the lectures, I should have been honest with them." She looked them each in the eye. "And at some point, I should have been honest with each of you, too. I didn't mean for it to turn out like this, with you and Gaby being dragged into my latest drama. I can only hope that neither of you, or Glass Slipper, are adversely affected when this all comes out in the papers."

"Nonsense, dear, we've weathered far worse," Aurora said. "And I stand by my decision to hire you in the first place."

Tess felt a twinge in her chest. "Thank you for that. I'm not sure I deserve it. You know, I took you up on your offer of hospitality at Sir Robin's because I didn't have the finances to back my own mission here. I've used all of you to some degree. I'm so sorry."

"Honey, there comes a time when most of us manipulate a situation to our own advantage," Vivian said on a dry laugh. "You were doing us a favor, Gaby a favor, and Max a favor. You earned your keep with us, as you did with them. Honestly, I don't see why everyone has their feathers in a twist."

"Thank you, Vivian, that means the world to me. But normally when I get myself into situations, I can get myself back out again in a way that only affects or impacts me. I didn't do that this time and I feel horrible about it."

"So did you?" Max asked quietly. So quietly, his words startled her.

She looked at him directly for the fi
rst time since leaving the press room. "Did I
…
?"

"Get yourself out of trouble. Was Fionula right about the ne
twork offer?
"

There wasn't any accusation in his voice or his expression. It might have been easier to take if there were. It would have been far better than the resigned disappointment she found there instead.

She held his gaze. "The offer has been made, yes. I did spend time in the booth as a guest commentator the past two weeks, which you both knew about. But that didn't happen by coincidence. Once I heard how the ratings went up, I deliberately played that angle." She shook her head. "I wasn't trying to do anything other than find a niche for myself, a paying niche. It didn't occur to me that it would hurt anyone. Maybe I am the selfish girl you thought I was. I just wanted to salvage what was left of the
life I once had. I never meant—"
She stopped herself. "That's no excuse."

Aurora stepped closer and rubbed Tess's shoulder. "You're being too hard on yourself."

It should have made her feel better, and it did, but in an awful sort of way. Her eyes burned even as she tried to laugh. "No, trust me, I'm not."

"You are," Gaby insisted, hero worship still firmly in place despite everything. "Your whole life was tennis, on and off the courts. The whole world followed your every move. How could you know what you wanted to do instead when it all suddenly went away? You were just trying to survive. You didn't do anything wrong."

"What do you want, Tess?" This from Max. "Is the commentating job just a means to a financial end, or is it what you see yourself doing for the future? Will it make you happy?"

"I doubt I'm going to have to worry about that. Alan
Chapman has already left two voice mails on my phone and I'm guessing it's not to congratulate me on a successful press conference."

"You could talk your way back into it if you wanted to," he said.

He'd said it directly, without any negative inflection. Because he knew her. And because he was right. She found her lips quirking a little, which surprised her, given the nature of the talk they were having. "Possibly. I know I was lucky to get the offer. It would have given me a chance to stay close to the sport, travel, be a part of the tour, all of which are major bonuses."

"You are quite good at it, Tess," Mercedes offered, then looked at her two partners when they looked at her in surprise. She stiffened slightly. "Don't look so shocked. I might have begged off traveling to the grounds with you. The sun, even such as it is here, is so bad for the skin. But that didn't mean I wasn't watching the coverage on BBC." She looked at Tess. "I thought you brought a lot of color to the commentary. Humanized it."

"Thank you,
"
Tess responded sincerely. "But to be honest, though I enjoyed it well enough, it wouldn't have mattered. I was being offered a very nice amount of money to get myself out of financial trouble. So I'd have probably said yes anyway."

"
'Probably'?"

That was from Max. Everyone looked at him. Tess, too.

He was looking directly at her. Only at her. "Meaning you haven't signed anything yet?"

She wasn't sure if he was getting at what she thought he was, maybe even hoped he was, but if she was going to give them complete and total honesty, then she had to be honest about this, too, even if she ended up looking like a total fool. At this point, it wasn't that big a risk to take. "I—I, uh, well, there was this other offer I was seriously considering," she said quietly. "But I wasn't sure it still stood."

"And if it did?"

"I was contemplating taking a job with a network without even mentioning it to you, although I did try. Doesn't that piss you off?"

"Did that offer come before mine, or after?"

"Before, but that's not the point—"

"It's exactly the point. If it had come after—"