Page 12 of Risky Match
“Unfortunately, they can. There’s a clause in your contract that says they can make this request at one Grand Slam event per year. If you don’t comply, you’ll be in breach of contract, and they will sue you. They will also terminate their sponsorship deal with you.”
What is Noah good for if he can’t properly manage my schedule and contracts? He’s supposed to protect me from these distractions.
“Noah, I’m not playing doubles at Wimbledon, period. They can pick another tournament—just not this one. Tell them.”
“I already tried. That’s when they pointed to the contract and mentioned calling their lawyers. You don’t want the bad publicity, and you don’t want to lose a sponsor that pays you millions per year. Your contract is up for renewal. They’ve made it clear that the renewal depends on you playing doubles at Wimbledon.”
What a cocked-up mess. I continue pacing, weighing my options. Then a solution pops into my head.
“Fine. I’ll play in the first round.”
Noah is grating on my nerves. We’ve been going through this song and dance for years. I’m tired of it. Soon I will take the plunge and hire a new manager who negotiates tighter contracts for me. That can wait until after Wimbledon though.
Noah adds, “And you’ll play towin. There are sizable monetary incentives the further you make it in the doubles bracket. They also have a penalty if you lose in the first round. In other words, you must play your best.”
“Shite. I don’t need this hassle. I was willing to play one round, but no more. I’m going for a run. When I get back, I expect to hear how you found a way out of this mess. Fix it!”
“Don’t you want to know who your partner will be?” Noah asks.
“NOOOO!!!! I don’t give a flying flip who the sponsor wants me to partner with. It’s not happening.”
I storm out, slamming the door with a loud bang.
Is the universe against me? Why am I always screwed at Wimbledon? I’ve been plagued with ridiculously tough draws, innumerable rain delays, twisted ankles, back spasms, and even the stomach flu once. Why do these things always happen here? Not that I want them to happen at the other tournaments, but it’s uncanny how many things go wrong here.
Now it’s an unreasonable sponsor insisting I play doubles. I don’t have time for relationships, not even a working relationship with a doubles tennis partner.
It’s not going to happen. I can’t let it.
3
BRIANNA
Chills run down my arms as I stare at my parents with wide eyes. Could it finally be true?
“I’m one of the wild cards? Are you serious?”
They nod in unison.
My heart’s beating out of my chest, and my body’s shaking with excitement. It’s really happening. My lifelong dream is coming true.
I’m going to play at Wimbledon.
It takes all my restraint not to jump up and down. But proper protocol for a twenty-eight-year-old princess prohibits such displays, particularly when standing in my dad’s—or more accurately, the former king’s—palace office.
But damn, I’m human, and this is the best thing that’s ever happened to me during my tennis career. With my royal duties, it’s impossible to play in enough tournaments to rank in the top 100 and automatically qualify for this prestigious Grand Slam event. For a long time, I’ve known my only chance was to be granted one of the handful of coveted wild card slots that are given to players the tournament deems deserving.
As I’m riding on a cloud, I notice my parents look worried rather than pleased at the news. What’s up with them?
Reeling in my emotions, I ask, “Aren’t you happy for me? It was a long shot, but you knew I was hoping for this.”
“Of course we’re happy for you, dear,” Mum says.
She’s still frowning though. Then it hits me.
“Ohhh! I know what’s wrong. You’re concerned about my safety. Don’t be. The royal box on Centre Court is always packed with British royals and celebrities. Not only would they be the first targets for any threat, but security will also be first rate. I’ll be fine.”
The problem is that Mum and Dad have fewer royal duties since they stepped down as the rulers of Catalinius, letting my oldest brother, Xander, become king. They soon learned there weren’t enough events to keep them occupied in our small island nation during their retirement. Once they tired of vacations to nearby Italy and France, they jetted around the world but soon became weary of constant travel. And when charity work wasn’t enough to fill their downtime, they decided to take more of an active interest in my tennis.
