Losing at Love (13 page)

Penny stood, looking back and forth between them before tilting her head toward Indy in a silent question. Should I stay? Indy shook her head just once and Penny’s eyes flashed back to Jasmine for a brief moment before she said, “I’m just…I’m gonna go get ready.”

“What’s gonna suck?” Jasmine repeated.

“Why Dom and Caroline made me ride with them over here. They had some news.”

“Bad news? Is everything okay?”

The concern in her voice made Indy’s stomach twist. A lump formed in her throat she felt the muscles in her legs and arms start to tighten. It was just like she used to feel before a big match, before Jasmine had come along and talked her through those issues and now she had to tell her that she was dropping her. She took a deep breath and swallowed back the nerves. “Good news, mostly, but…” she trailed off. It was better to just put it out there, rip off the bandage.

June 19th

“Okay,” Jasmine said, shrugging her shoulder and laying her toiletry bag on the nightstand beside the bed she’d claimed.

“Okay?” Indy repeated.

“What else do you want me to say? You have to do what you have to do, Indy. You’re right, it sucks and I’m kind of annoyed that you talked to Penny about it before me, you know, your partner. But I can’t ask you to pass up a chance to play in the main draw for doubles qualifications. That would be pretty self-centered of me.” She tried to keep the bite out of her voice, but some of it seeped through and she knew Indy could tell by the way her mouth twisted into a small pout. “It’s annoying that I’m here so early. I could have stayed back at OBX and practiced with Amy to keep my singles game sharp. It’s two weeks until the junior tournament starts.”

Indy nodded. “Right, you could have practiced with Amy. Jesus, Jasmine, if you’re pissed off, just admit it.”

“I’m not.” She really wasn’t. She was hurt and that was stupid because Indy’s choice was the right one. Still, they’d been working toward Wimbledon together and now that was shot to hell. “I’m not pissed off.”

“I’m sorry I told Penny first, but I had to be sure I was doing the right thing.”

Jasmine scoffed. “Tennis comes first for Penny. Wrong person to go to if you’re debating tennis versus anything else in life.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Indy said and then moved to her suitcase, digging through the clothes and pulling out some crumpled fabric and a small toiletry bag. “I’m going to shower.”

She left the room and Jasmine sank back onto her bed and blew out a breath. Penny and Indy had understated it. Sucks didn’t even come close to describing this clusterfuck. Doubles was her way in to the pro ranks, the thing that would keep her afloat until she could make a name for herself as a singles player. Maybe her parents and Felix Wolner and Dom and everyone else were right. Maybe she should just go play in college and stop deluding herself. Then, in a few years, maybe she could go pro and see where it led. What else was she supposed to do? Just be left behind in everyone’s dust as they went on to fame and fortune?

Jasmine yanked the towel off her head, letting her hair fall down around her shoulders. She stood and strode across the room, staring at her reflection in the mirror hanging on the wall above the dresser. The long dark locks were still damp and she needed a blow dryer if she was going to be ready on time. Digging through her bag, she found one quickly, but came up empty looking for the outlet adapter, the only thing between a working blow dryer and blowing every fuse in Alex Russell’s house. “Crap.”

Penny probably had one, she thought, as she left the room and headed down the hallway toward what she guessed was Alex’s bedroom. The door was shut now though and she could hear muffled voices, one much deeper than the other from behind the solid wood barrier. Not a chance in hell she was going to interrupt whatever was going on in there. She spun around and headed toward the guys’ room, but instead, collided with a warm body behind her and a hand shot out to steady her at the elbow.

“Jasmine Randazzo,” the voice belonging to the body said, the soft accent rolling the double z at the end of her last name in the way only an Italian would.

“Sorry,” she said, looking up into the crystal clear blue eyes of Paolo Macchia, crinkled at the sides as a smile widened over his face.

“Figurati,” he said and when he noticed she had no idea what he was saying, he translated. “Don’t worry about it.” His warm hand squeezed her elbow and then he stepped back a little. “Do you remember, we met in Paris?”

“Paolo, right?” she asked, playing it cool. Of course she remembered. Who could forget him, with his olive skin and dark curls and a body like
that
?

He nodded and then glanced over her shoulder. “Were you looking for Penny?”

“Yeah,” she said, but laughed a little. “I think she’s a little busy.”

“They are almost always
busy
.”

Jasmine groaned.

“Exactly.”

She laughed and shook her head. “You don’t have a blow dryer, do you?”

“Blow-dryer?” His forehead crinkled.

“Hair dryer? Secadora de pelo?”
She tried in Spanish as well.

“Asciugacapelli,” he translated and nodded, motioning for her to follow him down the hallway. His room was right next to Jack’s and Teddy’s and she leaned on the frame of his doorway while he unplugged his
asciugacapelli
from the wall. “All yours.”

He held it out to her and she took it, letting her fingertips brush against his deliberately. He chuckled softly and held the contact for a moment, before she chickened out a little and took it from him.

She turned to go back to her room just as Jack and Teddy emerged from theirs, both in dress pants and collared shirts. Teddy in gray and Jack in a violet color, both Harrison brothers looked like they stepped off the pages of a J Crew catalogue.

As far as she knew, Paolo had never met either of them. “Paolo, this is Jack and Teddy Harrison. Penny’s brothers.”

“She’s told me much about you both,” Paolo said, shaking both their hands firmly.

“Paolo was just lending me his asciugacapelli,” she said the word slowly, but he hummed his approval at her pronunciation.

“His what?” Teddy asked, his eyes flying back and forth between her and Paolo, his eyes finally staying on her for what felt like the first time in forever.

“His hairdryer, little brother,” Jack said, clapping him on the shoulder and nodding at the object in her hands.

“Oh, right.” He looked away again, even as Jasmine tried to meet his eye.

“Are we having a hallway party?” Indy’s voice rang out from the other end of the hall.

“Something like that,” Jack called back. “Come on boys, let’s let the ladies finish getting ready. On my way in, I thought I saw a nice bottle of bourbon that any man dating my sister would be wise to let me sample.”

The guys all headed down together and Jasmine turned, hairdryer in hand, forcing a half smile in Indy’s direction.

~

They dressed in silence, moving around the room, keeping a heavy distance between each other as they dried hair and applied makeup. Jasmine wasn’t going to break the silence. She’d been honest with Indy, she wasn’t angry, but this tension wasn’t her fault either. If Indy wanted things to be less awkward, she was going to have to make the first move.

A half hour of silence and Penny showed up at their door. “Are you guys ready?” she asked, wearing a pale pink slip dressed with lace at the hem falling to her mid-thigh, gold heels making her nearly Indy’s height.

“Ladies,” Alex said from over her shoulder. “You both look lovely.”

Paolo, Jack and Teddy were all in the library sipping what Jasmine recognized as ridiculously expensive alcohol that her dad was particularly fond of.

“We got a head start,” Paolo said before he gulped down the last of the amber liquid in his tumbler. The other guys followed suit. Jasmine hadn’t had a sip of alcohol since France and when Paolo refilled his glass, she stepped up and took it from him, downing it in one gulp, licking her lips.

“Good,” she managed, her voice a little raspy, and he took the glass back, as Alex announced that the cars had arrived.

The restaurant was a London hotspot and, as usual, when you were with Penny and Alex, the sidewalk was lined with photographers all wanting to get a good shot of the celebrity golden couple.

Jasmine stepped out of the car, her heel catching immediately in a crevice between the cobblestones that lined the old London street, but a warm hand at her back, the same hand that steadied her earlier in the hallway, caught her and kept her balanced.

“Thank you,” she said and as they made their way as a group through the throng of photographers, Paolo stayed with her, his hand at the small of her back, spreading warmth over her skin like nothing had in a very long time.

The maître de took one look at their party and led them to one of the best tables in the house. It was the kind of quality place that kept their best tables out of the center of the restaurant, allowing celebrity clientele a modicum of privacy rather than using the cache to attract other patrons. Their table was up a flight of stairs, overlooking the rest of the restaurant, big enough for them all to sit comfortably, but not too large to have a conversation across it. The walls were lined with dark wood paneling, the sconces lit dimly, creating an atmosphere just a little bit romantic, if you wanted it to be. As Paolo waved away their host and pulled out her chair for her, allowing her to sit before he sat down beside her, Jasmine realized that she definitely wanted it to be.

Before she could blink, a glass of white wine was put in front of her and appetizers started to flow out of the kitchen at an alarming rate. Apparently, the chef was a friend of Alex’s and had decided to send them a little bit of everything on the menu and some things that weren’t.

“Where are you from, exactly?” Jasmine asked. Paolo had to lean down a little to hear her or maybe he just wanted to be closer. She preferred the latter.

“Milan,” Paolo said. “Randazzo, that’s an Italian name.” He left the question unasked.

“My dad’s family is from a small village just north of Trieste originally. They came over to escape Mussolini.”

“My family has been in Milan for hundreds of years, maybe thousands. I left when I was a boy to study at the tennis academy in France.”

“That must have been difficult,” she said.

He nodded, taking another sip of wine. “You were lucky that your parents had their school. Alex has said it is an excellent facility and while perhaps he was a little biased by the company he found there, he would not praise it if he didn’t think it worthy.”

“It’s home,” she said simply.

Paolo smiled at her. “Perhaps one day, I will come and train with you all.”

“I think I’d like that.”

He leaned in a little closer so that his mouth was nearly against her ear. “Am I..?” he began, but then started over. “I don’t mean to over step, but that younger Harrison brother, he has been giving us the evil eye since we sat down.”

Jasmine chanced a look over the white of the tablecloth and saw Teddy staring at them, not exactly frowning. She recognized the expression. It’s the same one he’d worn when Amy arrived at OBX last week. She didn’t know what was going through his head, but he clearly wasn’t happy. Maybe he should have thought about that before he decided to screw the girl who broke his heart.

“He’s my friend,” she said. “Nothing else.” For the first time, maybe ever, the words felt like the truth. She meant it. Teddy was her friend and that was it. He made it clear that it wasn’t in the cards and if he wanted to glare over the table at a hot guy showing interest in her, that was his problem, not hers.

“Then that sad look on your face earlier. That was not for him?”

He’d been able to tell she was upset? Was she that transparent? “No, I got some,” she hesitated, choosing her words carefully, “disappointing news. Nothing at all to do with Teddy or anyone else.” Teddy would actually have to be speaking to her to upset her.

“So there is no one else?”

“No, there’s no one.”

“Ah, that is very good news. Now I shall make it my mission to distract you from this disappointing news you received,” Paolo said, taking her hand up and pressing a kiss to it. Jasmine looked around quickly and most of the table had seen it, but Jack cleared his throat and kept up his conversation, drawing everyone’s eyes away, except Teddy’s. She could still feel his gaze on them, but instead, she turned in her chair a little, crossing her legs and shifting closer to Paolo.

“Distract away.”

~

They stayed at the restaurant as it swelled with patrons until almost everyone else had cleared out, waiters had kept the food and wine flowing, though the guys packed it away, the girls had to look on in envy. There was something a little unfair about the male metabolism, but regardless, Jasmine sat back in her chair and sighed, more than happy with the pasta primavera she’d gobbled down.

“A girl who can eat,” Paolo said, a hand rubbing over his stomach.

“That’s what gets you?”

“Every time.”

To her left, Penny pushed back out of her chair and signaled to her with a toss of her head. She looked toward Indy, but she was in the middle of a heated debate with Alex about soccer, apparently their loyalties in conflict. “Be right back,” she said and stood up, following Penny down a hallway toward the ladies room.

“Indy told me about having to withdraw from doubles.”

Jasmine shrugged. “She has to do what’s right for her.” The wine had dulled the pain of that particular truth.

“She does,” Penny agreed. “Do you still want to play doubles?”

“Why, do you want to play?”

Penny scoffed.

“So, if not you?”

“Natalie Grogan.”

The girl she’d lost to in the French Open juniors, a sixteen-year-old up and comer who’d be sure to leap at the chance to qualify for the women’s double’s tournament.

“You’re sure you can make that happen?”

“Pretty sure.”

“Because if she turns me down, that’s worse than not asking at all.”