She was a birthday present! He doesn’t even want a dog: He never bothered to walk her or even play with her. He just wants revenge, the asshole. And, goddammit, I can’t respond because it will all be used in evidence against me, no doubt. I type back:
I’ve forwarded it to my lawyer.
See you in court.
His reply is followed by a string of celebration emojis.Shit.I close my eyes. I love tennis, but this is a huge pile of crap. I’d do well to remember that, no matter how cute men are, there’s always some sting in the tail. I know nothing about Adam. As a friend of Janus’s, he’s probably okay, but I’ve always known I can’t trust people, and that’s only gotten worse over the last couple of years as my profile has grown. I’m like a matryoshka doll: shell after shell until I don’t know who the person is inside anymore. It’s as lonely as hell.
Perhaps I’m always going to be asking myself that question now: Are they with me for me, or for Anna Talanova, tennis player?
5
ADAM
When we’re settled in the limousine, I glance sideways at Anna. “Where are you from originally? Do you live in New York?” That accent is …
She shakes her head. “I grew up in Russia. Honestly, I’m not sure I belong anywhere. I’m on the road a lot.” She gives a small, forced laugh. “But I keep the apartment here, so I have somewhere to come back to. My visa allows me to come and go, and I’ll apply for a green card once I’m not traveling so much.”
“That sounds …” I want to say lonely, but what do I know? Her life could be crammed with good people, and she might have lots of friends in New York and on the tennis circuit. However, if that was the case, why did she invitemeto this?
As if she can read my mind, she says, “Yeah, I don’t think tennis is conducive to steady relationships.”
I chew my lip. I know nothing about steady relationships. Although at one time I would have called myself a relationship guy, my trust was torched. So, what am I now? I don’t know how men can do one-night stands, and I don’t understand women at all. I’m like an odd creature that lives under a rock and comes out blinking into the sunlight once a year. There’s no way I would ever be on the radar of a woman like Anna Talanova, gorgeous as she is. The thoughtalmost makes me laugh out loud. “Are you in town for anything in particular this time?”
She turns to me with a small smile. “A break before Christmas. I’ve been competing on the international tennis circuit for seven years. I’ve just come back from the Billie Jean Cup. I’m gathering that you’re not a tennis fan?”
A cup, huh? That sounds impressive. “Sorry, I’m so out of touch. Did anyone pass on to you that …”
“You’re a very boring computer guy?”
I chuckle through my wince, and Anna laughs. “Don’t worry. I understand the obsession with the thing you’re doing. I’m fairly nerdy about tennis. The problem with my line of work is, when you spend eight hours on court every day practicing, and the rest of the time traveling, some people take exception to that.”
Bysome peopledoes she mean men?
“Anyway,” she adds, “the Billie Jean Cup is the main international team competition in women’s tennis.”
My eyes go round. God, half the world must be watching her play. “It’s finished? Crap. I’m sorry, I didn’t know that. That’s incredible. Holy shit, Anna, playing in something like that. Congratulations!”
She makes a face at me. “I sort of messed it up. We lost spectacularly badly.”
Oh!Damn. I rub my hands together. “Well, I think I’d take a gold medal in messing things up myself.”
She laughs. “Really? Why’s that?”
“I don’t want to get into how bad things are with my company right now.”
She raises her eyebrows. “I looked your business up. It looks amazing. Super complicated.”
The idea that she looked at my nerdy electronics website makes my heart ache. She turns in her seat. “Tell me about what you do.”
Oh dear.“There’s these things called printed circuit boards that connect together all the components used in electronic devices.” I wave my hand around the car, then fish the PCB out that I dropped into my pocket earlier as I was leaving the office and hand it to her. She turns it over in her palm. “I designthese and then write the code that makes them do something interesting. We sell these alongside components for people who want to learn, experiment, or prototype. It’s a nice community, and we do online tutorials, too. It’s as nerdy as all get-out.”
She laughs. “Wow, Adam. You must be very smart.”
“Not so smart in business, I think.” Why am I telling her this? “But my marketing manager, Susie, bends over backward to make what we do sound exciting.”
She blows out a long breath. “I have a good marketing team, too. Sometimes the expectations are a bit much, aren’t they? The technicalities of tennis … how hard I have to work. I’m expected to do well, so they try and knock me down a little. My team is good at handling all that for me.”
They knock her down? Jesus. “How on earth do you cope?”