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“Now that you’ve made history, we expect to see you try for another slam in a few weeks at the U.S. Open.” The older man said. Tyler’s eyebrows lifted for a moment, then a smile spread across his face.
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world, John.” He said. The stadium erupted at the news, excited to see him play again in the year’s final Grand Slam in New York.
Chip’s heart stopped for a moment, and a rushing sound crashed through his ears. Play the U.S. Open? What the hell? What about going home? He felt a hand on his, holding it. He looked to Aunt Dixie, who drew him into her arms for a hug.
“I can’t do it, I won’t do it.” He muttered over and over to himself, while she stroked his hair
“Don’t worry, sugar, we’ll get this straightened out. Now remember, the cameras are on us.” She whispered. He forced a smile on his face, while inwardly he dreaded the future. After she let go of him, he turned and noticed something that should have filled him with fear, but instead was indifference.
Scott was gone.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Tyler- London
“I can’t do it.” Chip stated.
Tyler was wiped out. After playing five long sets, and accomplishing his dream of winning the career slam, he wanted nothing more than to go to sleep. Problem was, the Champions' Ball was required. All of the press would be there, as well as the bigwigs of the tennis world. The only thing that got him through the last set was the thought of being with Chip, who was now having a meltdown.
“Babe, I know, I didn’t realize he was going to ask me about New York, and I spoke without thinking. All I have to do is cancel, it’s not a big deal. Please, I’ll say or do anything to get you to come with me to the ball.” He pleaded.
Chip’s eyes were red, and his face puffy. He sat on the edge of the bed with a sigh, then pulled his t-shirt off.
“Are you going to ignore me all night? I mean, it’s not like I’ll really be your date.” Chip murmured. Tyler sat next to him, reached over and gently kissed Chip’s cheek.
“I want you there because celebrating with you means more than anything else in the world to me. I do have one official dance with the women’s champion. It’s a tradition. Otherwise, I don’t anticipate dancing with anyone else. Now seriously, I love you, and I want nothing more than to celebrate my success with you. Will you please come to the ball with me, Chip?” Tyler said, then kissed him deeply on the lips.
“Well, if you put it that way…” Chip’s sad face broke into a smile.
“Oh my God, it’s beautiful.” Chip murmured, his eyes like saucers.
They were pulling up to Guildhall, one of the oldest buildings in London, where the ball was taking place. Tyler took Chip's hand, wondering for a moment if it was one of the last times they could display affection for the next few hours. They were in the back of a limo, and a mob of reporters were gathered at the entrance, snapping pictures of everyone as they stepped out of their vehicle.
“Before we get out, just remember, I love you. I have to do some official stuff tonight, but hopefully it won’t be too bad. Oh, when we get to the curb, stay here for a few moments before getting out while the paparazzi take my picture.” Tyler said. Chip frowned for a brief second, then squeezed his hand. The limo pulled up to the entrance, and a doorman reached for the door handle just as Tyler released Chip’s hand.
Tyler stepped out into a sea of blinding flashbulbs. Photographers yelled at him to turn this way and that, which he did, hoping they’d get enough pictures that they’d leave him alone, but they only seemed to be getting worse. Finally he beckoned to Chip, hoping the paps would eventually go away. No such luck. Chip joined him at his side, and the two made their way into the giant hall, escorted by security guards. The paps kept snapping pictures, then Tyler heard something that made his blood run cold.
“That other bloke’s coach, Scott Turner, called a press conference for tomorrow morning. Something’s brewing. I wonder what the hell he’s got to say?”
“What’s wrong? C’mon, let’s get inside. They scare me.” Chip said, referring to the paparazzi. Tyler had stopped in his tracks when he heard about the press conference. Why the hell hadn’t anyone told him about it? Tyler smiled at Chip, hoping he hadn’t seen the worry in his face. One look at his blue eyes was all it took for Tyler to shake off his apprehensions.
Inside, the Great Hall was packed with people. Dance music played over large speakers while catering staff supplied everyone with drinks and canapés. Tyler wasn’t much of a drinker, but after the last few weeks he felt like he deserved a few. He snagged two glasses from a passing waiter, handed one to Chip, and tossed back a glass of bubbly.
“Whoah, slow down Tyler, you won’t last long chugging them back like that.” A voice from behind said. He turned to see the men’s doubles champions Greg Martin and Silvio Bianchi.
“Hey, guys, congratulations!” He said, giving each of the men a brief hug. They talked for a few minutes before Tyler realized Chip was no longer by his side. He glanced around, then was swept up in a tide of well-wishers who wouldn’t let him go in search of Chip. Before he knew it, the speakers and presentations started, and he was forced to take his seat in the place of honor, alone.
“C’mon, dance with her!”
Tyler laughed, feeling light-headed from the champagne and the backslapping. He got out of his seat and walked over to the women’s champion, Elina Lisowski, and asked her to dance. Thankfully it was an old disco song, “Boogie Nights,” so he didn’t have to worry about slow dancing. Neither of them really knew how to dance, so they laughed and moved their hips in time with the music while the few photographers allowed in the building snapped their pictures. As the song ended, he finally saw Chip at the back of the hall, standing alone by a tray filled with empty champagne glasses. He waved to the crowd, then made his way toward his man.
“Hey, I wondered where you got off to. Why the sad face?” He asked. Chip mustered a smile, then a tear slid down the side of his nose.
“Shit, I’m sorry. This is your night, and I’m ruining it for you.” He mumbled, wiping at his face with the back of his hand.
“No, I’m the one who should be sorry. This has to be hard for you.” Tyler said, then looked over his shoulder to see if anyone was near them. Thankfully, they had these few moments alone.
“I love you, Chip, a hell of a lot more than any of this.” He said, waving his hands at the people behind them. “This is my job, not my passion.” He said, then straightened his back as the truth settled in his head. His passion was standing in front of him, and his job was all but behind him now.
