Page 8 of Double Fault

He grins from ear to ear, eyes crinkling at the corners. We played tennis together as kids and teens. We were rivals and hated each other most of the time, yet here we are. After an injury caused an abrupt end to his career when he was twenty, I asked him to join my coaching team. Insight from the man who was my biggest opponent for years is invaluable. Thankfully, he agreed, and we’ve been best friends ever since.

“Exactly.” He drops down onto the couch beside me. “She was great.”

I glower at the guy. He looks younger than twenty-seven, while I probably look older. The death of my wife a year ago did a number on me. Most days I feel like it aged me half a century.

Annie was my high school sweetheart.

When she got pregnant our senior year, we didn’t hesitate. We tied the knot and never looked back. We obviously hadn’t planned on becoming parents so young but we embraced it. When Maddie was born, our world only became more perfect. My tennis career took off, and Annie and Maddie traveled with me. Though we had little downtime, we always made the most of it.

The cancer diagnosis was shocking.

Annie had been fine. We thought it was nothing.

Nothingturned out to be terminal.

She was given six months to live. She made it nine. She fought so hard, not wanting to leave us. By the end, she was miserable, in constant pain. Though I wasn’t sure it was the truth, I assured her we’d be okay. She could go. I couldn’t stand to see her suffer.

It was the worst kind of torture, watching the person I loved most wither away.

After she was gone, I needed time. For a while I thought my passion for the sport had died with her. But the itch returned, and I tossed my hat back into the ring. After an almost two-year hiatus—the nine months she was sick and the year after her passing—my rank has dropped, which means I’ll have to climb way back up.

For Annie.

Becauseof Annie.

For the past few months, I’ve played tournaments in order to elevate my ranking before the tennis season starts, lucky to snaga few late entry spots. It didn’t take long to realize that if I want to fight back to where I was before Annie got sick, then I need help. It’s been a major challenge, parenting Maddie, making sure her schoolwork is done, and getting back into the swing of things.

“Hey.” Fisher’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts. “We’ll find someone, buddy. We still have another one to interview today.”

I nod, though my expectations are low.

We’ve already met with six applicants. I highly doubt the seventh will be any better.

Besides, seven is an odd number, and I’m superstitious when it comes to those.

“If this one doesn’t work out, then the job is yours.”

He shakes with laugher. “You couldn’t afford me, sweetheart.” He blows a sarcastic kiss in my direction.

At the sound of the doorbell, he bolts up and heads for the door. “That’s her.”

I drop my head back and close my eyes. Sitting through yet another interview is pointless. After six not-so-great applicants, I can’t imagine unlucky number seven will be Mary Freaking Poppins.

Antsy, ready to get on with my day, I unlock my phone and check my social media apps.

A few posts down, one catches my eye.

Noah Baker—comeback or send-off?

There’s a poll beneath it that allows people to vote about whether they think I’ll come back for good or whether this will be my final year.

I roll my eyes. The speculation is already out of control.

A throat clears, startling me. When I look up, Fisher is glaring at me from the arched entry into the dining room where we’ve been conducting these interviews.

I turn my phone over and plaster on a smile.

With a roll of his eyes, he steps aside.

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