Page 3 of Long Shot

Shaking her head, she looked away and turned her attention to the glimmering water instead. The glass front of the infinity pool overlooked a private beach. The view was completely unobstructed: just sand and ocean as far as the eye could see.

Tossing the towel onto the lounge chair, Taylor checked her phone. There were a few texts, almost all of them from her publicist.

Need to get you a man. Sports Central is starting to ask questions.

“Ughhh.” Taylor groaned as she lobbed her phone into a nearby pile of towels and fled toward the water. There were three people in the world who knew Taylor’s big secret: her dad, Kim, and her publicist.

As she perched at the edge of the diving board, her toes curling against the sturdy aluminum, Taylor sighed.And maybe one other…But Taylor couldn’t even bring herself to think her name, let alone say it.

Sucking in air, Taylor bent her knees and launched herself into the cold water of the in-ground pool. As her body sunk to the bottom, Taylor opened her eyes. It was the only place she was truly alone.

So, she opened her mouth and let out a blood curdling scream.

3

Mac

The last thingMac wanted to do after practice and a hot shower was descend into the humid hellscape that was the New York City subway. But what other choice was there? As she walked down the steps toward the 6 train, Mac swiped her card and maneuvered her black duffel bag around the turnstile.

She’d make it to the office just in time. Hopefully, Tommy wouldn't mind that she was still in her gym clothes.

As the train doors slid open, Mac snagged a seat right by the exit. Luckily, it was the middle of a work day; most commuters had already made it into their offices, so the train was relatively empty. Mac’s shoulders dropped as she settled into the seat.

A quick scan of social media showed far too many clips of Taylor Young. Mac’s jaw clenched at the sight of her. Calling her an ex wouldn’t be accurate… but she wasn’tnotMac’s ex. Mac chuckled thinking of the conniption Taylor's PR team would have if she ever made that claim.

The rocking of the train hit a comforting rhythm just as the exhaustion of a grueling early morning practice started to hitMac. With each sway of the train, Mac’s eyes grew heavier. As her eyelids closed, the image of swaying trees flooded her mind.

Soon, the sound of rustling leaves filled her mind.

Mackenzie ran through the woods, sprinting toward the lake. Behind her, the patter of smaller footsteps closed in. A giggle rose from her chest.

“Tay, stop!” Mac laughed as she reached the edge of the lake. Wearing a pair of denim shorts, a t-shirt with the sleeves cut off, and a pair of beat up sneakers, Mac whipped around toward the incoming noise.

Tennis racket in hand, Taylor Young broke through the treeline and jumped toward Mackenzie. “Got you!” Taylor lifted the racket and swooped Mac up in a hug.

Mac giggled as they rocked back and forth, the smell of Taylor’s sweet hair wafting into her nose. It somehow overpowered the smell of the lake.

“Wanna play water tennis?” Taylor asked, a giddy smile taking over her face as she squeezed Mac tighter.

Groaning, Mackenzie shook her head. “My mom will be pissed if I ruin this racket. It’s my only one.”

Taylor rubbed her chin, wearing a mischievous grin that would be etched into Mac’s brain for the next decade. “What if you use one of my old ones in the lake? I have too many anyway.”

Mac crossed her arms, breaking the hug the pair was locked in. “No, it’s okay. You should just ask one of the other girls.”

“No,” Taylor shook her head, placing her hands on Mac’s shoulders. A jolt of nervousness passed through Mac’s body, Taylor’s hands radiating warmth into her tired shoulders. “I want to go in the lake with you.”

“Please stand clear of the closing doors.” The jarring voice of the automated announcer ripped Mac from her memory.

Looking up at the map, Mac realized it was her stop. “Crap!” She jumped up from her seat and slipped through the sliding doors. The end of her duffel bag jostled on the closing door but just narrowly escaped the train car.

She made it just in time. She caught her breath while the train squealed along to its next stop. Once the platform quieted, Mac took one more deep breath and climbed up the steps, pushing open the exit door before finally reaching the surface. Each step shook the memory of Taylor from Mac’s mind a little more.

The loud bustle of Manhattan smacked her in the face. Taxis zipped by, sirens blared, and business people shoved past. She tried to fit into the crowd, to hide how flustered she felt, but the city was a far cry from the small town she grew up in. Mackenzie wondered if she’d ever feel like she fit in here.

After a few blocks, Mac arrived at the front SDO Management. With a deep breath, she pushed open the heavy, glass door and smiled at the security guard as she approached the front desk. “Hey, I’m here to see Tommy.”

“Mac, I know.” Jerry laughed from the desk. “I saw some clips of your training; you’re looking good. Are you ready for Garros?”

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