Page 79 of Long Shot

Mac

The first threerounds of the U.S. Open sped by. And as Mac sat in her cold plunge, she shook off the fourth round.

“Mackenzie Bennett is overperforming all of her previous metrics.” A pundit shook her head.

Another commentator scoffed. “I mean her unforced errors are down by massive percentages. I can’t say I’ve seen a player perform like this in quite some time.”

Babs smiled as she watched the TV in the locker room.

Submerged in a cold plunge, Mac eyed her. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. I’ve just made it to the quarterfinals, I still have to win two more times before I’m even in the Finals.”

“I just want to watch you kick her ass.” Babs crossed her arms. “Mostly to stick it to Kim. Taylor is nice enough.”

Mac laughed, sinking deeper into the tub. Her joints ached from the cold but it was a welcome relief from the direct, late August sun. She’d played mostly in the Louis Armstrong Stadium and the Grandstand. Her rank was still too low for the organizers to justify letting her take the Arthur Ashe spot.

Babs’s timer sounded and Mac lifted her sore body out of the tub. Mac grabbed the towel from the rack next to the tub and wiped herself off.

“Look, if I face Taylor, I will kick her ass. But I won’t be happy about it.” Mac shrugged. “I’ll be happy about Kim though.”

Babs patted her back and nodded. “Are you going back to the hotel?”

Mac nodded. “I’m going to order a stupid amount of room service and pass out.”

“That’s what I like to hear. See you tomorrow for training.” Babs headed out of the locker room and disappeared.

Mac collected her things and took another look around the locker room. As she thought, Mac had an idea. She opened her phone and typed out a message:

My room, one hour. Room service and TV?

She sent the text while leaving the locker room and going to her car.

A little over an hour later, Mac heard a knock at her hotel door. She ran to go answer it, a giddy smile on her face as her robe pillowed in the gust of wind.

She swung the door open and hugged her mom, who stood on the threshold. “Hi, Mama.”

Piper wrapped her arms around her daughter and smiled. “You did so well today.”

Mac released her tight grip and held the door open for her mom. “Come on in.”

Stepping inside, Piper gawked at the Suite. “Holy shit.” The entrance opened up to a small living room, a dining table, and a view of Lexington Avenue.

“I know, right?” Mac smiled. It was the nicest room she’d been put up in yet. “Weirdly, there’s only TVs in the bedrooms so we’ll have to have dinner there if we want to watch something.”

Piper waved her off, staring at the silk rugs scattered throughout the Suite. “It feels like it should be against the law to eat something here. It feels like a museum.”

Another knock came from the door, this time an unfamiliar voice called out, “Room service.”

“Eee!” Piper squealed as she ran to open the door. As soon as she did, a cart full of food was wheeled inside and set up next to the bed.

“Thank you.” Mac smiled, handing the bellhop a fifty dollar bill. She grabbed the TV remote and climbed on top of the duvet. “Real Housewives or Under The Sea?”

Piper rubbed her chin. “Housewives. I want to feel like a glamorous divorcee.”

Mac laughed as she selected the channel and opened up the food. Most of what she’d ordered for herself wasn’t all that fun, trying to stick to her tournament diet as much as possible. Instead, while she ate, she eyed Piper’s dishes.

Each bite was more delicious than the last. Mac dug into a salmon filet that melted in her mouth.

When the plates were empty, Mac leaned back into the mountain of pillows. The TV went to a commercial break.

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