Page 2 of Long Shot

Still fresh-faced, Jazz laughed at Mac. “Even after that clip of Taylor, you still think any of us stand a chance?”

“No one likes a nepo baby.” Mac gritted her teeth as she looked back to the screen. After just five minutes on women’s sports, the anchors had gone back to their nonstop coverage of men’s games.

Jazz rested her hand on Mac’s shoulder. “Still holding that grudge?”

Mac rolled her eyes. “Not a grudge. She’s just had everything handed to her, and I don’t think that builds a strong player.”

“Strong enough to win all the Opens last season.” Jazz shrugged. She looked down at her watch, realizing it was time to hit the courts. “I’ll catch you later. Try not to get too angsty while I’m gone.”

Before Mac could find a witty reply, Jazz was pushing open the locker room doors. Mac didn’t have long before she needed to be back in Manhattan. And given how inconsistent the buses out of Randall’s Island were, she needed to hustle.

I can’t be late.

2

Taylor

“Don’tyou dare drop that racket.” Kimberly Young’s voice echoed off the stone surrounding the clay court.

Taylor’s head dropped at the sound of her mom’s voice. Clenching her jaw and catching her breath, Taylor grumbled. “I won’t.”

Kimberly shook her head and walked closer. “Louder!”

“I won’t drop my racket.” Taylor gasped for air. Sweat dripped down her forehead, the baseball cap on her head too soaked to absorb any more. Careful to keep her racket from touching the ground, Taylor moved back to her starting position.

Her practice partner, a retired player from Belarus, stared at Taylor as she waited for Kimberly’s signal. It had been clear to Taylor from a very young age that her practice partners were never there to help her. No, they were there for her mom and no one else. Even if Taylor begged for medical attention, another ball would be flying toward her at her mother’s command.

But as another round of shots came zipping across the court, Taylor reminded herself not to be too hard on her mom.Everything Kimberly did was to ensure Taylor’s success. Even the private courts that Taylor practiced on now were built long after Kim had retired.

Taylor stretched to hit the incoming ball with her forehand, just barely making contact in time. Her feet slid slightly on the orange clay, leaving a long trench where her foot dragged.

Resetting her position, Taylor walked to her baseline at the back of the court. As soon as her back was turned, a ball boy ran out onto the court with a wide broom and swept away the divet. Taylor nodded her appreciation to the young man.

Kim waved him off as soon as Taylor turned to face her opponent. “Again!”

The late spring sun beat down on Taylor’s body as she played for another two hours. Eventually, Kim was satisfied with the session and dismissed Taylor’s practice partner. Only then did Taylor collapse into the dust of the court.

I definitely just stained this skirt.Taylor shook her head as she tried to steady her heart rate.

A shadow eclipsed the harsh sun, protecting Taylor from its burning light. “This is what Roland Garros feels like. The sun is unrelenting that close to the equator. The humidity is even worse. You need to be ready.”

“I am ready.” Taylor shaded her eyes as she looked up at her mother’s towering figure. She had won the last two French Opens she had competed in. “It’s not my first time on the circuit.”

Kimberly laughed as she turned toward the exit, the sun beating down on Taylor again. A wince escaped her lips as she tried to cover her eyes from what could only be described as a death ray.

From over her shoulder, Kim hollered. “Every time is your first time.”

A moment later, Taylor was alone on the court… except for the court attendant who stood off to the side with a towel.

It took Taylor a few minutes to stand up from the clay. She clapped her hands together, a cloud of dust rising as she cleaned off her hands. As soon as she stood, the attendant – Kayla – jogged over and passed Taylor the towel.

“Thanks, Kayla.” Taylor smiled, her hands barely strong enough to grip the fabric. Leaving the court, Taylor made her way toward the pool. There was no point in showering since Kim would just make her come back to the court in a few hours for more practice.

But Taylor shivered as she felt the caked on sweat and dust covering her skin. Trying to recenter, she looked up at the massive evergreens that covered the property. If she listened hard enough, she could hear the sound of the waves lapping against the Long Island shore.

As she walked up the hill toward the house, Taylor felt her body starting to relax. Her shoulders dropped as she took in another breath of fresh air.

But all of her peace dissipated when she reached the crest and the towering mansion came into view. The marble exterior with black trim sent a jolt of anxiety through Taylor’s being.

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