Page 136 of Double Fault

She sputters, but before she can form a retort, I hang up and block her number like I should have years ago. Then I do the same with my dad’s. I didn’t want to do it before, but that naive little girl inside me who desperately wanted an apology and acknowledgment has finally given up. I’m done holding out hope that they’ll come begging for my forgiveness because I’ve finally realized that they don’t want it.

I collapse onto the bed, blowing out a breath of air I had trapped in my lungs.

And then I laugh.

I’m free.

CHAPTER 34

NOAH

For what feelslike the millionth time, I adjust my bow tie.

Beside me, Fisher smacks my hand away. “You act like you’ve never worn a tux before.”

It’s an honor to be invited to the Wimbledon champions dinner. Even though I’ve had a few days to process my win, it still hasn’t fully sunken in.

“Where are they?”

Sabrina and Maddie should’ve been here thirty minutes ago, and though they’re likely running behind because it’s taken longer for them to get ready than I expected, I’m imagining all the worst-case scenarios. The elevator broke. A car accident. A giant crane fell and toppled the hotel.

With a sigh, Fisher swipes two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter. “They’re not that late. Maybe Sabrina needed extra time to do her hair and makeup. Maybe they’re stuck in traffic. Whatever you’re thinking, I’m sure it’s not that.”

I narrow my eyes on my friend. “I feel extremely attacked right now.”

He passes me a glass, then takes a sip of his own. “So you’re telling me that you’re not running through a list of worst-case scenarios?”

I take a big gulp of champagne to avoid answering.

“As I thought.” He chuckles.

Since I arrived, I’ve been roped into posing for numerous photos with Jade Kerns, the Canadian women’s singles winner, and other members of the community. I’m tired of forcing a smile. Sue me for wanting my girls to be here. There’s a dance floor near the front of the large ballroom, and all I’ve thought about all night is getting Sabrina out there.

“Noah Baker. Just the man I was looking for.”

“Mr. Prinz.” With a dip of my chin, I shake Gregory’s hand. “Always a pleasure to see you.”

Lies.

Gregory Prinz owns an American football team and has more money than he has common sense. He’s in his mid-seventies, with a nineteen-year-old wife. I know exactly what she sees in him, and honestly, I guess I don’t mind that someone other than this prick is benefiting from all his money. Though I also know exactly whyhe’swith her and can’t help but feel grossed out any time I see him.

“Likewise. How have you been?”

Since his arena centers around football and not tennis, I don’t see him often, but he’s rich and likes to drop in to these events every now and then.

“Great, great,” he says, chin lifted and his stomach straining against the buttons of his shirt as he scans the room. “I’m expanding my businesses. You’re not in need of a new sponsor, are you?”

I plaster on the fakest of smiles. “You’d have to speak to my agent.”

Though I’ll speak to him first and make sure he understands that the last thing I want is ties to this scumbag.

“Perfect. I’ll do that. Well”—he lifts his glass in the air—“I have more rounds to make. We’ll chat later.”

No we won’t, if I have anything to say about it. “Looking forward to it, sir.”

When he’s a fair distance away, Fisher lets out a rough laugh. “You’re so full of shit.”

I shrug. “Unfortunately, I’ve gotta play the game sometimes.”

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