I shook my head. “Not my tournament this year. But Antonia has been fantastic. Have you seen her other matches?”
“Oh, yes.”
Mira cleared her throat next to me. I just about resisted the urge to roll my eyes. “Maria, this is Mira. She’s Toni’s new coach. She’s making her even better.”
The two started talking over the top of my lap, and of course Mira had more than passable Spanish. By the time the umpire called for silence for the first set to begin, I was starting to feel almost left out.
Until Toni caught my eye from the baseline and winked at me, anyway.
She’d won the toss and opted to serve. I watched her take slow, deliberate breaths. Centring herself, just like we talked about. She bounced the ball a few times and tossed it up like it weighed nothing at all.
There was no mistaking the sweet crack of perfect contact, and the serve sailed past her opponent as an ace.
Game on, Antonia Cortes Ruiz.
Chapter Nineteen
Toni won her first professional trophy since her comeback in straight sets, which was better than even she could have hoped for.
The whole crowd were on their feet as she jumped and punched the air in celebration, jogging to the net and shaking hands like every gracious winner. No interviews on court this time, but I knew she’d be running a gamut, with national and international press out in force in the staging area.
I passed a pleasant while with Maria, introducing her to everyone I recognised, and enjoying her pride as the federation officials and sponsors fawned over their winner’s family. I didn’t wait in the receiving line as Toni entered with her trophy—in the shape of a giant silver tennis ball—but we exchanged smiles so she knew I was hanging around for her.
“Dios mio, how have you done this a million times?” she asked when we finally met in the corner of the arena’s huge restaurant area, at least an hour after the match ended. “The aftermath is harder on you than the match.”
“Now you finally see what I’ve been saying all this time?”
“Yeah, but it’s a pretty great high all the same. I just didn’t think it would be so exhausting with the handshakes and the cameras.”
“Well, hometown advantage. Wait until you get one of the big four—and you will, I know it.”
She hugged me, hanging on just a moment too long. “Thank you. For being here.”
“It was worth it to get to sit next to your abuela. She’s so happy.”
“And worn out, she’s gone to lie down now she’s chatted with everyone from Mira to the mayor.”
“She’s staying with you, in your suite?”
“Mmm,” Toni confirmed. “I need to hand this trophy back, then there’s a cheque to collect apparently. What I really want is…”
“Yes?”
“A shower. It’s barbaric that we come straight from court without getting properly cleaned up.”
“Well, the locker room is that way, of course.” I pointed, like she hadn’t been in there every day of the past week. “Or, and this is just a suggestion, my room also has a very nice shower. Much more private too.”
“Is it rude to sneak out this early?” Toni asked.
“You know the best part about being the champ? You can pretty much do whatever you want.”
“Really?”
Anywhere else, I might have risked kissing her, at least on the cheek. The room was still far too busy for that.
“If you want to do one more tour, get all your praise, then go ahead. I…will be upstairs.”
“That sounds very distracting,” Toni replied.
“It does,” I agreed. “Luckily for you, the tournament is over and there’s nothing left to pull focus from. So really, it’s up to you.”
And for once I didn’t trip over my words, I didn’t fail to say what I wanted; I just said enough and left on the perfect note. All that remained was to see if Toni would take me up on my offer.
Half an hour later, I began to doubt if I’d told her my room number at any point during the week. Then I remembered that I must have, because she’d called for me for morning gym sessions at least twice.
After an hour, I began to consider that she had misunderstood and had gone to shower somewhere else, and that the well-wishers must have held her up again along the way.
Thirty minutes after that, I had run down half of my phone battery from constantly making it light up to check for messages. Someone less proud might have just sent a message asking if everything was okay, but I had put myself completely on the line for this one. I dreaded to think how desperate it would have sounded if Toni had simply changed her mind.
When my phone did ring, it was my mother confirming the arrangements for Monday. Indian Wells was close enough to Los Angeles that I could technically commute, but for maximum relaxation we’d be staying locally. I couldn’t care less about the details, other than the news that Alice was going to come for the end of the second week, assuming I made the finals.
I got off the call as quickly as I could, but when I ended and saw there were still no messages, I tossed the damn thing at the nearest wall. Since phones were basically overpriced pieces of plastic, it cracked badly and mocked me silently from where it landed just by the en suite bathroom.
Not really the Saturday night I’d had in mind, so I ordered room service for one and put the television on the first mindless music channel I could find, cranking up the volume as I started to pack my things. Even that didn’t take long, not with one bag and one case, so I ended up taking everything out
