Love/Forty Read online

  Mercedes kept herself on deadline and beyond, like Buzz Lightyear, she thought, amused, as she completed most of her current projects on time and some earlier than their due dates. She gave up dining out and going to parties in order to achieve two weeks of free time that she planned to spend glued to The Tennis Channel for the French Open. Dante won the semi-finals and through him and her brother, she felt the excitement as if she were in Paris.

  Lynda advanced to the round of sixteen. They all considered this a great achievement for someone so young. She had a lot to keep her excited before competing at Wimbledon in July.

  Mercedes highlighted her TV guide between the Tennis Channel and the local network covering the event and she set her remote to the two channels in order to go back and forth and taped the tournament to insure she didn’t miss a single moment.

  There wasn’t a minute of the French Open finals that she missed because she had a special interest in the tournament. She was able to catch a glimpse and hear a report about Max and his two new clients. She felt a great deal of pride when he and Lynda appeared on the network interview after she had won round two.

  Her brother was relieved that Lynda and her parents had decided to wait until she turned eighteen before turning pro. If by some miracle she happened to beat a grand slam champion, at her present age, then she could change her mind in an instant. All parties seemed satisfied with the decision.

  Mercedes paused before closing her computer and asked herself, “Whom are you fooling?” There was no denying she wanted to catch every single one of Dante’s matches. The mere thought of seeing him, filled her senses. She couldn’t stop thinking about him and that made her well aware nothing would help her confront the feelings she had for him in spite of attempts to convince herself he was the last person on earth she’d ever dream of marrying.

  She told her friend, Faith, “This is insane. What makes me think he’d be interested in me?”

  The eternal best friend, answered, “He’s not a fool.”

  Truth was, having him fall in love with her would be a dream come true, although she doubted that would ever happen. The beautiful women who came into his life were too much competition for her. She considered herself an amateur in the world of romance.

  Even when she daydreamed about what life would be like if they became an international item, the fantasy ended the moment she considered what would happen once the whirlwind affair had ended and how she would deal with the aftermath of reporters and photographers following her around. And, she was convinced that would happen. Whenever she allowed herself to love someone, the relationships generally failed. Her brother was a part of her, and their parents loved them, which is why they were adopted. Her small, close-knit family, along with a few friends, completed her world, in comparison to Dante’s.

  ****

  On the day of the championship match, Dante left his parents’ apartment after telling them he’d see them at the Open as he headed to Roland Garros for the men’s finals.

  He felt confident about his chances to win and believed if he lost the championship he’d have no one to blame but himself−a poor game plan against a player who had a better strategy. But he intended to win. The current number one player was forced to withdraw during the quarterfinals in Madrid, with a knee injury, and the number three seed was surprised in France with a loss to the number sixteen player, who then lost the semi’s to number five, which usually happens when someone unexpectedly beats a top seed. That person rarely goes on to win the tournament.

  Audiences usually were quick to support an underdog, but became immediately disappointed if that player lost the next match in a humiliating defeat. The outcome was simple−the loser missed a chance to pull off a spectacular win and move up in rank.

  Dante considered this championship match even and he needed to take advantage of the opportunity to win the title, even though he felt sympathetic for the players who were injured or who had lost a match early in the competition. You spend an entire year preparing for the opportunity to win at least one of the four major championships.

  The fourth ranked player had shoulder surgery and wouldn’t be participating until perhaps the U.S. Open at the end of the season.

  Dante was pleased that his opponent happened to be ranked fifth in the world. Their statistics showed the numbers between them were close and the match figured to be a challenge. He looked forward to playing with someone he respected, an Australian man, whom he considered competitive.

  He even relished a four or five set match to gain the title. He had no intention to disappoint his fans, not to mention the plans he had in mind if he won. And what drove him on his quest was Mercedes McFadden. He shook his head, realizing he had to be careful not to give the wrong impression and have her believe he considered her a trophy. He did not, but Max’s words concerning how she felt about champion sportsmen made him think twice.

  Max, along with his coach and trainer, were at the tennis complex waiting for him when he arrived. The Press was in full bloom; he waved to the screaming crowd of fans and nodded to the clicks and lights of the cameras, and spent five minutes giving autographs to the kids yelling and screaming for his attention.

  Once inside Roland Garros, the four of them sat and studied some new video of his opponent before his workout began and after that, a shower and change of clothes before they sat and discussed strategy while enjoying a hearty meal of steak and eggs for lunch. Hopefully, dinner would be a victory celebration at the fancy French restaurant where his parents had made reservations.

  “My secretary alerted me that you changed your plans about returning home,” Max began.

  “Yes,” Dante interrupted, cheerfully. “I decided to stay over in Paris for an extra day or two to visit with my parents then I’ll take my parents’ plane to New York, to visit your sister. But I’m not sure if that will work. I want to surprise her, and would appreciate your not mentioning my plans, not that I think she’ll ask.”

  Max snorted. “Client privilege. But, egads, you’re beginning to sound like someone in love!”

  “Maybe,” he answered, tilting his head.

  “I can assure you that she’s not out of town, if that will help, but I can honestly say that she’s not too fond of unexpected surprises.”

  “Well, how do you know she’s not anticipating one? Maybe she’s secretly wishing I’ll show up at her door.”

  Max beamed this time. “You’ve got the bug worse than I thought. And if Mercedes is happy with your surprise visit, I can tell you she must be in love, too!”

  “See, I told you things would work out. I haven’t given up and as a matter of fact, I’ve only begun. I have played this tournament with renewed enthusiasm because of your sister. I wanted the two weeks to be over because I wanted to be free to visit her. She was my motivation and incentive to win, not the money or the ranking. Even if I tried, I doubt I’d be able to stop thinking about her, night and day.”

  “All right. I’m going to leave you alone now. Let you get settled,” Max said, offering him a hand and shaking his head in disbelief. “Good luck. I’m rooting for you in your quest for Mercedes. But please try and focus on today’s game. I feel this might be the year to win all four majors. You’ve got Australia under your belt; winning the French will put you through the halfway mark.”

  “I’m well aware of that fact; let’s aim for the gold ring…”

  ****

  Mercedes placed a hand on her midriff to quell the butterflies. She finished fixing the snack tray; the dessert was in the fridge and Faith would soon arrive with the takeout meal she ordered. She turned around in a circle for one last look to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything, then rushed to lower the cloth Roman shades to block out the afternoon sun.

  She didn’t want to be interrupted once the championship game began. Three-minute commercials left barely enough time to take a quick trip to the bathroom and/or grab something from the kitchen. Max admitted he was as excited as she felt and he
was pleased that his new client, Lynda, advanced to the round of sixteen before being eliminated. But having Dante at the French Open was the ace. He told Mercedes with Dante in the finals, the championship hung out there like a carrot. He simply had to sit in the stands and stay calm, all the while rooting for him to win.

  As soon as the buzzer rang, Mercedes hurried to open the door to admit Faith, and then she rushed to the elevator to greet her. Faith’s arms were loaded with packages. “Good grief, Faith. What did you order?”

  “In honor of the Italian god, I ordered from one of Mario Batali’s restaurants.”

  There was barely half an hour left before the match began and Mercedes muted the TV to try to calm down her insides while they chatted and enjoyed some wine and appetizers.

  Without losing a second to bring up the subject, Faith said, “You should have gone to France, Mercedes. Who in the world would turn down the honor to sit in Dante’s box along with the opportunity to watch the French Open Championship live? I would have gone with you if you’d asked.”

  “I didn’t want to go, even with my brother there.”

  “Yes, you did. You simply refuse to admit that to yourself. Look at you. You’ve been a wreck for two weeks worrying about whether or not he’d advance to the next round. Why don’t you face the facts, Mercedes; you’re falling in love with him. Why fight a chance at happiness?

  “The time has come for you to quit worrying about what other people might think or say. And, so what if the relationship doesn’t work? Enjoy the moment. Your love life is non-existent now. In fact, it’s stagnant. Quit being a prude and acknowledge your sexuality.”

  “I can’t do that. IF, I had a chance, the moment the relationship became a headliner, all those beautiful women who follow him around the tennis circuit along with the gossip journalists will wonder what I have that they don’t, and they will start digging.”

  “And that’s what’s bothering you?” Faith asked, frowning. “Let them wonder, and who cares if they dig? You have nothing negative in your past. Obviously you have what Dante’s interested in and that’s all that matters. You’d better change your mind before he changes his. I surely wouldn’t keep him waiting.”

  “I don’t want to have to explain my past life in foster homes.”

  “He already knows you’re adopted,” Faith interrupted, “You mentioned that you talked to him about your parents dying and being moved in and out of foster homes. Do you honestly think he’ll want to hear about each and every one? And, even if he did, that means he’s more than interested in you. He’s not hoping to hear some Oliver Twist story or something that happened that would make him change his mind about you, even if you had been on the Orphan Train. It’s not that complicated, Mercedes. He’s interested in you.”

  “I don’t want to be known as his girlfriend,” she said, making quotation marks in the air with her fingers. “I don’t want to be known, six months from now or a year from now, as his ex, the woman whose heart he broke, or the woman who possibly broke his. Plus everyone in the world will now be informed that M. McFadden is a woman.”

  “They are going to know soon enough anyway, Mercedes, after the Arizona incident. Why not give yourself a chance. Go out with him once and see what happens, and quit worrying about what other people will think and whether or not you’ll break up in six months or a year. Carpe diem.”

  “I’ll think about it, but I’m not sure he’s going to ask me out on a date.”

  “Want to bet? He’s not only going to ask you, he’s not about to take no for an answer. And, remind me before I leave to give you my therapist’s card,” Faith said, ducking the incoming pillow Mercedes threw at her.

  ****

  The moment the championship match opened and the players were on the court during the warm-up, Mercedes found herself on the edge of her seat, her insides in commotion.

  At the sign of the first commercial break, she and Faith hurried to fix their plates for dinner. They sat on pillows around the coffee table and leaned their backs against the sofas. Once the match was underway, Mercedes barely touched her food. She didn’t want to avert her eyes, or even blink, for fear she’d miss a stroke and even worse, he’d lose his serve.

  She gave Faith her own play-by-play details of the match, describing each of Dante’s powerful strokes as well as his amazing footwork, and she drew in a sharp breath whenever strokes looked like they might go out of bounds, alarming her friend. But, Dante was at his best. He controlled the depth of his shots with power and spin, unlike anything tennis fans had ever seen.

  She explained that his intensive mental knowledge and his physical training were responsible for his ability to vary strategies depending on even a slight change in his opponent’s game plan.

  And that, she told Faith, should win him the title if he was able to continue the pace throughout the match. The first set was close, a 7-6 tiebreaker. Dante’s opponent won the second set and that made Mercedes more nervous and a little worried. She hoped he didn’t dwell on her second set theory.

  “See, if I were there, Faith, I’d be going crazy.”

  “I hate to break this to you, sweetie, but you’re going crazy in your own home!”

  “Well, maybe.”

  “No maybes, Mercedes. If you were there seated next to Max, you’d feel more secure and your brother would give you the inside scoop, not to mention Dante’s coach is a retired champion of several Grand Slam Championships. I have a feeling he’s not concerned about the outcome. Heck, Dante doesn’t even look upset. And, by the way, when am I going to get to meet your handsome brother?”

  “As soon as I can get you to come with me to Florida.”

  “All right, let’s plan that.”

  “Really? That’s great. I promised Max I’d come to visit soon.”

  Play started again and Dante won the next two sets and the championship in four. She didn’t think she could have survived watching a fifth set. The remainder of the time seemed to fly by once Mercedes told Faith the exact time she became convinced Dante had decided to put the match in overdrive and finish off his opponent. The change of pace and increase in the MPH speed of his first serve was evident even to non-tennis players.

  The cameras focused on Dante’s parents and Faith didn’t miss the opportunity to add, “See how much fun tonight could’ve been? His parents are well-known insiders in Europe, Washington and New York societies, not to mention good-looking and rich. You could be out on the town tonight celebrating in Paris with them and their entourage, and acquiring a huge jolt in your career instead of sitting here with me. All the tennis players will want you to write about them once you publish your interview with Dante.”

  Mercedes picked up another pillow and tossed it at Faith. “All right, I already promised I’d think about going out with him.”

  “I want more than a promise. Take a good look, hon. He’s a hunk. As a matter of fact, if you decide not to date him, how about introducing us.”

  “All right, Faith. I get the message. How about a cannoli?”

  Returning the pillow back to her friend, Faith said, “I never turn down dessert.”

  Chapter Nine

  Mercedes and Faith waited, watched Dante rush to his box and receive congratulations from his coach and Max and warm embraces from his parents and friends and fans in the stadium. He returned to the court for the final ceremony to receive the trophy.

  After all the excitement ended, Dante was expected to do a network interview, and as soon as the camera zoomed in for a close-up shot, he smiled and winked at the camera.

  “Oh, no!”

  “What?”

  With a broad smile, Mercedes said, “He told me if he won, he would wink at the camera, and the wink would be for me.”

  “That was a lot more than a wink. He gave you a slow-motion, sexy here’s lookin’ at you, kid, wink.” Faith stood, grabbed dishes and headed for the kitchen. “I’m helping you clean up and then I’m leaving.”

  “This early?�
��

  “Yes. That man’s going to call you as soon as the press interviews are over, and you need to be alone with him.”

  “I’m not going to be alone with him.”

  “You need to be. Pay attention to what that phone call means to you when you hear his voice. How does he make you feel? And the answer to that will determine how soon you change your mind and go out with him. Even a one-night stand with Dante Edwards would be something for the memory bank. But I have a feeling, he has a lot more in mind, especially if you’re the first person he calls after his match.”

  “That’s what scares me.”

  Mercedes became rather quiet after that, thinking about what Faith had said, rehearsing a conversation in her mind, while they packed leftovers for Faith to take home and put the loft back in tip-top condition in no time. Faith gave her a big hug, “Good luck tonight. Call me later!”

  ****

  Mercedes barely had time to fix herself a cup of tea and grab another cannoli out of the fridge, before her phone rang. She turned off the TV and sat on the sofa, putting her feet on the coffee table. She felt excited, and could barely speak once she saw his name on the caller I.D.

  “Dante,” she managed to whisper, but with enthusiasm, not giving him a chance to speak. “Congratulations! The match was wonderful. I’m positive this championship will become a classic and will be played over and over again for years. He was a great opponent and you played an almost impossible near perfect game.”

  “Except for the second set! I thought about you when I lost and decided I had to win the next two. Did you catch the wink?” he asked.

  “I did,” she answered, barely audible.

  “Are you blushing?”

  “Your wink was sensual and romantic. I not only saw your look, I felt it.”

  He took a deep, silent breath, “Honest?”

  “The answer will be a boost for your ego, but I was anxious to see if you’d remember and when you winked, I felt like I was…” she hesitated.

  “How did it make you feel? I thought you’d appreciate the fact that I remembered that little gesture.”