Love Game - Season 2011 (10 page)

“Sasha is on fire,” Paola Scetti remarked, looking over the mountain ridges of Indian Wells.

“She’s cruising through the matches like a rocket,” Samantha Watts agreed. Sasha Mrachova had beaten Elise Renard in the second round of the tournament, getting a bye in the first, and then had taken out fellow German Stephanie Moeller in the third round in straight sets. Today she would play the top seed Carina Gnocchi, another German.

As the week evolved, it had been the talk in the press room that Sasha was slaying the German girls one after another. If she won against Carina today and Angela Porovski won her match as well, there would be another German – Czech encounter in the semifinal. Everyone was looking forward to it, and it wasn’t unlikely to happen, as Carina had had problems with Sasha’s game in the past. The Czech led the head to head by five to two.

“Elise Renard didn’t look bad, however. She is finally finding her shots again.”

They were sitting outside of the commentary box on a bench for a little chat. There was not too much time left until the first quarterfinal of the day.

“I like to see her play doubles. She will be a fine doubles player one day. Getting better at the net with every match.” Sam checked her watch. Twenty minutes left. Sometimes she envied Paola’s light-hearted handling of time and appointments. Sam had never been late. Not as a player and not since she was working as a commentator.

“It’s good to see the young ones stepping up to the task, even though they still struggle at times,” Paola mused.

Sam nodded. The older players in the Top 10 were struggling with form and there was a chance for the young guns to do real damage this spring. Yelena Kovalenko, a former No. 3, had just fallen out of the Top 10 after the Australian Open, and even though Tamara Parova was one of the more consistent players out there she had once again failed to take home a Grand Slam title in Melbourne. Marieke Bender had been the winner against Sasha in the final. But Marieke injured herself shortly after the Australian Open in a bike accident. She couldn’t play for several weeks and was expected back at the earliest for the European clay season. Only Sasha Mrachova, who belonged neither to the younger generation nor to the players who already pushed the thirty years mark, seemed to draw from a never-ending source of will power.

“It’s been a long, long time coming but I sense a change is gonna come.” Paola hummed.

“I know,” Sam corrected her, but Paola mistook Sam’s answer as confirmation of her observation. They kept on staring at the skyline when Paola suddenly jumped up with a loud gasp.

“Hell, I have an interview!” She checked her watch already knowing she was too late. Sam began to chuckle.

“Who is waiting for you?”

“Ted Curry and that Aussie singer. What’s her name?”

“Felicia Del Castro,” Sam said. “They make a glamorous couple, don’t they? Doesn’t she start her U.S. tour next week?”

“Yes, in L.A. That’s the reason she is here. A little bit of quality time with Ted, I suppose. But today we will take a look behind the scenes and spotlight the grinding fitness regimes these two go through in order to look like they do. Should be fun. Something for the guys and the ladies, you see,” Paola shouted as she hurried down the stairs, waving good-bye to Samantha Watts, who herself got up and went to the commentator box. It was time.

***

There wasn’t much to do other than watching the on-going match. Yelena Kovalenko had just gone up a break on Angela Porovski in the second set. If Yelena could take the set they would head into a decider.

Sasha sighed. She was sitting on a couch in the players’ lounge, waiting. How much of her time did she spend waiting for her match? Sasha couldn’t tell. Too much, definitely. She checked her cell phone again. Her fiancé had asked her to join him in London for a sports store opening. It’s been too long since they had been seen together. The press demanded fodder and her management demanded reassurance that she took her job seriously. She decided to call Jaro. He was a nice guy after all and surely was dealt the more difficult hand as a football player. She looked around to check if no one was listening, but the players’ lounge was eerily empty.

She was just skipping through her phone book for his number when the door opened and a familiar face looked in. Gabriella! Why did she have to join the lounge now to wait for her match? The American would play Amanda Auster who had made an inspiring run to the fourth round in Melbourne as well as here in Indian Wells. Everyone was most surprised, especially as Amanda suddenly seemed able to overcome her annual slumping in the Australian season. Gabriella would have a hard time against the redhead.

Sasha looked away quickly. No need to engage in a conversation with Gaga after their last meeting. Gabriella’s brash reaction in the locker room had caused Sasha to become even more careful. Why on earth did she have to mention
Tennis Nurse
? That had been grossly negligent of Sasha. The incident had also confused her profoundly. It didn’t make sense. She had heard Gabriella talking to Elise in the bathroom of the Melbourne players’ party. Gabriella did know about the
Tennis Nurse
novels – whereas Elise denied having read it. Well, that was no wonder. Sasha shook her head thinking about the German girl. But why would Gabriella have denied it when Sasha had alluded to the novel series? She had no reason to mistrust Sasha. And she had not only denied it, but had seemed completely ignorant of it. It just didn’t make sense.

Unless –. A thought suddenly dawned on Sasha. Of course, that must be it! It wasn’t Gaga she had overheard talking to Elise in the rest room, it was Luella! She wrongly assumed it was Gaga, but now that she thought about it, she realized Elise had never mentioned a name. They were twins! They not only looked the same, Sasha scolded herself, they also talked the same. They were just the same. Only Luella was apparently gay and Gabriella bitchy. At least after losing a match. Sasha still couldn’t understand why the otherwise friendly player had displayed such a bad demeanor.

She looked up and turned her head to see where Gabriella had sat down, but stopped midway. Gabriella was standing right behind her smiling down at her.

“Hi,” the American said. She seemed to wait for an invitation to sit down.

“Hey.” Sasha tried to remain reserved.

“May I?” Gaga asked politely. Sasha shrugged.

With a side glance she followed a still smiling Gaga who sat down next to her. From the corner of her eye she watched Gaga staring at the TV monitor. Would she apologize for her outburst? Gabriella just smiled and gave her a quick glance once in a while. Sasha couldn’t believe Gabriella pretended to have forgotten about the locker room encounter. What was going on here? She was just about to run through all the incidents with the Galloway sisters again when Gaga pointed to the screen.

“You have to get ready.”

Sasha looked up at the TV. Recovering from her low, Angela had won the second set and the match against Yelena. Sasha gave Gabriella a confused nod and got up. It was her turn now against Carina, the Knocker, and she was looking forward to it.

***

“Hello, losers!” A beaming Angela Porovski entered the cozy restaurant room of the hotel. The other three German girls were already waiting for her and sipping drinks. They moved over and Angela sat down at the table. Unlike Angela all the other girls had lost their matches today. Elise Renard and Stephanie Moeller lost their doubles match and Carina Gnocchi had just come back from the tournament site being defeated by a fierce Sasha Mrachova.

“We were just saying that it would be so much more fun if there were more joint tournaments,” Stephanie explained to Angela.

“Oh, yeah!” Angela answered, skipping through the menu. “It would definitely increase my chances with Rufino.” Angela smiled when she thought about the hot Spanish lefty.

“I don’t understand what you see in him,” Carina said. “He makes funny sounds when he plays.”

“I like him anyway,” Angela said, giving the girls a big grin. “So, what about you? New favorite hotties, anyone?”

Stephanie laughed. “Not for me. Still busy with my old ones!” Angela shook her head but not without admiration. For the last eight months Stephanie had successfully been managing to have affairs with two ATP players without them knowing of each other. Carina just met Stephanie’s remark with a sneer. She disapproved of the love triangle and looked over to a silent Elise, who seemed to share Carina’s sense of decency.

“It’s just not appropriate, right?” Not waiting for Elise’s answer Carina continued talking. “Who do you like, Elise?” Angela and Stephanie turned around to Elise. They also wanted to know what was going on in their friend’s life. Angela gave her shy colleague an encouraging nod, but Elise almost seemed to panic.

“I don’t like anyone in particular,” she began with faltering lips, when Stephanie already interrupted her with an irritated sigh.

“You are such a bore, do you know that? I cannot believe you are half-French. Aren’t the French supposed to be completely oversexed all the time?” She turned to Carina missing that Elise blushed heavily. “Let’s see what the Italian likes.”

“I like Ted Curry. Because he is a gentleman,” Carina answered with confidence, glad that the attention was back on her.

“Ted Curry a gentlemen?” Stephanie blurted out. “Not every Brit is a gentleman, Carina!”

“He also has a girlfriend,” Angela remarked.

Carina rolled her eyes. She was content with admiring the young Brit from afar. “I can wait,” she said.

“Well, probably you don’t have to wait much longer,” Stephanie said mysteriously. She tended to her drink, sipping it slowly through the straw. Angela and Carina leaned forward.

“What do you know, that we don’t?”

“You’ll never guess it,” Stephanie grinned. “It’s the best. I overheard it in the locker room.”

“Come on,” Angela pressed.

“Ok, I’ll tell you.” Stephanie leaned forward to the other girls, then she whispered, “That new girlfriend of Ted’s – she  is having an affair.” She paused again for a dramatic moment. “With another player, we all know.”

“Who?” Angela and Carina almost screamed in unison. Stephanie grinned like a Cheshire cat.

“Ted’s girl is slurping the Oister, my dears!”

Angela was the first to get the pun. She let out a loud wail of excitement. That was fun news, indeed! While Stephanie and Angela giggled, Carina winced and groaned in disgust. Elise also seemed quite taken aback by the news.

“It’s not a big deal, ladies,” Angela addressed her two friends.

“It’s a sin!” Carina exclaimed. Her piety only made Angela and Stephanie scream with laughter.

“They are not married, Carina. She can do whatever she wants,” Stephanie defended the unfaithful girlfriend.

“I don’t care if she sleeps around,” Carina snapped. “But with a girl? That’s just sick!”

A heated argument erupted among Stephanie, Angela and Carina. Elise’s repeated attempts to excuse herself went unnoticed in the loud clamoring. Only Angela noticed when Elise finally got up and left the room.

***

The good thing about dating a tennis player was the lover’s body shape, Tom mused. Ted had muscles everywhere – muscles that popped up unexpectedly when he moved, small muscles, huge muscles and muscles that came in handy when he held Tom. Alright, alright, Tom told himself while lying on his back with his eyes closed, Ted Curry had other qualities as well. He was dashing, very British, very funny and for once, he was playing the same tournament as all the girls. It had been so long since they had seen each other. Actually, now that Tom thought about it, they hadn’t had a night together since the Australian Open. But now they were back together and they had promised each other they would take advantage of it. The tour had a long and cruel schedule for lovebirds. There must be more couples on the tennis circuit, Tom wondered, yet nobody seemed to see them.

“I wonder who else is dating?” Tom asked Ted. They had been talking about Antonia Sapore and Martina Rodriguez when they were briefly overcome by lust and distracted by a quick physical intermezzo. Tom had omitted to tell his lover about the picture he had taken. He needed more information first before he would decide what to do with it, if anything at all.

“Well, Felicia is dating Amanda.”

“That’s not a big secret,” Tom mused. “Everyone knows the Oister is gay.”

“Yes.” Ted seemed not too happy about it.

Tom wondered if Ted felt his masquerade with Felicia could be exposed someday due to the rumors surrounding Amanda.

“Who else do you know of?” He tried to take Ted’s mind off of his own charade.

“I heard something about Sasha once. But she has this soccer guy now. So apparently these were just rumors. You know how that works. Girl plays tennis and hits the ball hard. No boyfriend seen for miles. She got a gay rumor just like that.” Ted snapped his fingers and shrugged. Then he gave Tom a kiss.

“Sure. But perhaps this soccer guy is a beard,” Tom wondered. He kissed Ted back.

“Why are you so interested in the girls. Do I need to worry about you?” Ted laughed.

“Just a little obsession, darling,” Ted giggled.

“How old are you again?” Ted said with a grin, rolling over and pinning Tom to the mattress.

“I’m thirty, love.”

Ted laughed. “30 – Love? Means you are half-way there, Tommy boy.”

They looked at each other, smiling in a moment of silence, and Ted let his fingers travel up his lover’s chest. He leaned forward to Tom’s ear.

“But here comes Ted Curry,” he whispered. “He will never give in. No, looks like he’s going to go down.” Ted slowly moved his lips over Tom’s body.

“30 – 15.” He moved down biting Tom’s left nipple. Tom slapped Ted’s buttock.

“Here we go! Good serve by Richardson into the left service box. But Curry responds with a pin-point winner down the line. 30 – 30. What’s Tom Richardson going to do about it?”