Page 27 of Breakpoint
He cut her off with a laugh. “I wouldn’t take branding advice from Jaz Mason. The media hates her, whereas theyloveyou. That’s why we need to keep you out there.”
Dani became offended on Jaz’s behalf because the Jaz she knew was definitely not who the media made her out to be. “Chris, I justcan’t travel to New York, but I’ll do all the social media blasts. Send me the info,” she acquiesced.
“Okay, but let me set up a couple of paparazzi to get some photos of you out to dinner in Miami or something?” He tried to slide in quickly.
Dani was over this conversation, but she knew Chris could be persistent, and she would eventually give in. He had gotten her this far, and some of those sponsorships had kept her afloat financially. “I’ll think about it. I gotta run, Chris, send me the details on the posts I need to do. Byeeee.”
She hung up with a smile before he could get another word in. She shook off that call and walked over to the bench to wipe down the rest of the sweat she was covered in. This Florida humidity was no joke, but they would play in similar temperatures in Atlanta in a few weeks.
Moving to grab her water bottle, she saw Jaz’s phone. She must have left it when she picked up the rest of her stuff. Jaz would likely come looking for it after her cool down stretches, so she could listen to her book while getting her massage from Scott.
That made Dani wonder what Jaz was listening to right now. It became a personal challenge for Dani to find a book that Jaz would be interested in that she hadn’t already read. Maybe she could pick up the same book and listen to it, and they could chat about it together.
She looked on the screen to see what Jaz was currently consumed with, giving her some guidance. She didn’t recognize the title but pressed play on the screen. The narrator was describing a very graphic sex scene between two women. She dropped the phone on the ground in shock. She picked it up, hoping that she hadn't cracked the screen, then clicked onthe title of the book so the cover would appear. This was definitely a sapphic romance novel. She scrolled down and Jaz had hundreds of them, some of them well-known titles from authors that she recognized like Sarah Waters, but also LOTS of sapphic erotica.
Why was Jaz reading lesfic? She felt like complete shit for invading Jaz’s privacy because that wasn’t her goal. She just wanted another way to find some common ground. But now that she heard and saw it, she couldn’t unsee it.
Was Jaz queer? Dani would definitely know or at least heard rumors, because the women’s pro tour was just as gossipy as a high school cheer squad. If she was, there was no way this would have not leaked somewhere. Although Dani’s own queerness wasn’t well known either, obscured by gender conformity and her feminine appearance. But if you asked enough questions to the right people, Dani’s could be confirmed.
So no, Jaz couldn’t be. Dani was just projecting her own hopes. Finding this meant nothing. Straight women listen to queer romance and erotica all the time. And just because she was a female athlete didn’t mean she was automatically a lesbian. But then she thought about their interaction with Lena and how awkward it was with something underlying it.
A warmth spread through Dani, entirely unrelated to the oppressive heat.
Woah.
Chapter 10
Face down with a towel covering her body, Jaz leaned into the massage and Scott’s firm pressure on her calves, a sigh escaping her lips. Her muscles screamed for relief, finally beginning to unclench as Scott worked methodically, kneading out the knots and fatigue. The scent of lavender and eucalyptus filling the small room.
Every part of her body was sore, and she wondered why she still put herself through it. The roar of the crowd, the flash of cameras—it all seemed miles away now, muted by the rhythmic kneading of practiced hands. She closed her eyes, trying to fully relax, but the adrenaline and pain still buzzed beneath her skin.
A gentle knock on the door jam preceded its opening as Kira walked inside. “Hey, hey, how you doing?” She was always a whirlwind of energy, even in the tranquility of this moment.
“Living my best life right now,” Jaz murmured, not opening her eyes. “What’s up?”
She couldn’t see Kira, but she could feel her presence in the room. Her long, lean body always stood with the quiet confidenceof someone who knew her worth. Her skin, a rich, dark chocolate, often contrasted with the bright athleisure she wore, which was likely more expensive than most thought. She was in her early forties, though her vibrant energy made her seem younger. She came into Jaz’s life as soon as her career took off and guided her every step of the way, even though Jaz often made her job harder with the press and her sponsors. Kira never turned her back on her, and Jaz appreciated having another successful black woman in her corner.
“Don’t let me interrupt,” Kira said, though she clearly intended to do just that. “But I wanted to talk to you. First to say congratulations on your first gold medal.”
Jaz finally opened her eyes, a small smile gracing her lips. “Thanks, Kira. It still feels a little surreal.”
“Surreal? You and Dani dominated out there! The entire world was watching. And,” she added, pulling out her phone, “my phone hasn’t stopped buzzing. We’ve got more sponsorship offers than we’ve had in the last five years coming in from everywhere. Everything from luxury car brands to sports drink companies. They’re all throwing bigger numbers at us. The gold medal has definitely upped your market value, more than I actually thought possible at this phase of your career.”
Kira was right about one thing. She and Dani had really dominated. They breezed through the doubles draw and didn’t even drop a set.
The quarterfinals saw them face a seasoned European pair known for their defensive prowess. But Dani and Jaz met every lob with a ferocious overhead and every angled shot with a perfectly placed drop volley. Jaz’s anticipation was uncanny; she seemedto know where the ball would land before it even left her opponent’s racket, while Dani’s backhand consistently pushed their rivals deep, creating opening after opening. Everyone thought the semifinals would present their toughest challenge, but Jaz wasonthat day, and her forehand became a cannon.
By the time the gold medal match arrived, Dani and Jaz were a juggernaut. They seemed to play with a synchronicity that was breathtaking. Their high fives, hand signals and even secret code words for certain actions were in perfect sync. Their final opponents, a formidable team in their own right, seemed overwhelmed from the first serve.
“We got this. We got this,” Jaz kept saying between points, psyching herself and Dani up.
Dani hit a crushing forehand down the line that seemed to deflate the other team's spirits. “Let’s fucking go!” Dani screamed out when the ball was called in.
“Yeah! Keep doing that shit!” Jaz screamed at her, raising her hand for a high five which Dani promptly smacked.
Every attempted passing shot was met with a decisive volley, every angled return with a powerful cross-court drive. When the final point was won, a powerful backhand by Dani that landed just inside the baseline, the roar of the crowd in Atlanta was deafening.
Dani jumped in her arms, embracing Jaz as tears streamed down both their faces. A mixture of joy, relief, and triumph. They had done it. Gold at the Olympics. The thing that had brought them together.
