Page 45 of The Game

Ugh. I’ve been trying not to think about that visit this morning ever since I got here.

Mila makes a face as she heads over to us. “Arty the Asshole. That boy is creepy,” and she waggles her fingers like a witch. It makes me laugh, but Ilov frowns.

“We don’t need any drama before the Australian Open, Anna. You’re both heading out there in five weeks.”

“I get it, Ilov. I’m sorry. If it makes you feel any better, I took a restraining order out against him over the weekend.”

Ilov’s eyebrows rise to his hairline, and he stares out over the court. “A restraining order! Jesus Christ, Anna, this close to a major tournament … I hate this.” His eyes scan over my face. “Are you okay?”

“For the moment, yes. You know I’ve handled worse. But I don’t want to give Arty any headspace if I’m honest.”

“Okay, let’s get on with the practice. But stay out of the limelight, okay, Anna. No more drama,” he says, pointing his racket at me before walking to the side of the court.

“Yes, boss.” I salute him.

He’s being easy on me here. He knows I drive myself hard, and I’m grateful for it. But as if to underline his words, my phone starts ringing from the side of the court, and he looks at me and puts his hands on his hips. Normally, I don’t let anything interrupt our practice, but guilt about Adam being dragged into afight is still grumbling away in my gut, and that’s June’s ringtone. She’s the only call I ever take when I’m on court, because if she calls me when I’m practicing, it’s an emergency. I wave my racket at Ilov and Mila to carry on.

“His interviews are everywhere!” June hisses, her thick Louisiana drawl hitting my ear as I tap my earbuds. “I’m sorry, darling girl. I wouldn’t call you at this time unless the world was on fire.”

“Goddammit. What’s he saying?”

“That Adam took a swing at him first. That you’re using your fame and media connections to bully him and destroy his reputation. Yada yada yada. This guy’s bullshit could drown a city, let me tell ya. I’m gonna get my mafia friend to bury him six feet under.”

People make jokes about the mafia in the US, but I feel like I narrowly escaped the mafia in Russia. “Don’t joke about things like that. I hope he’s doing a terrific job of destroying his own reputation. And he’d have his own money if he didn’t spend all his sponsorship on bad business investments and legal cases. It’s not like he won’t inherit his father’s assets at some point.” I run my hand over my ponytail. “Sorry for the rant, June. Christ, he’s really showing his colors now.”

“I hear ya. I’ve had it up to here with the jerks myself. The charming ones with the golden smiles? They’re the worst. I drafted a statement. I just need ya to read and approve.”

“Okay.” I signal to Ilov that I’m going to take five minutes and sink down in a seat, opening my email and skimming through what June’s written. It refutes every point with a calm rationality. She’s a total professional.

“You can roll with it. I hope he’s going to start looking like a ranting idiot.”

“There’s only so many times you can pull this bullshit, that’s for sure. The press’ll wanna talk to ya.”

“Schedule whatever interviews you need to. I’ll be finished here at 4 p.m., and I can do calls up until 11 p.m.”

“Have I told you you’re a dream to work for?”

I laugh. “Thank you. Have you talked to Adam at all?”

“No, but there was a picture of him being doorstepped this morning.”

Oh shit.“They’ve found hisapartment?”

“I don’ think he has a doorman or security. It don’ look like that kinda building. He was flustered, you get me? Want me to get on it?”

Adam hasn’t called me about it, probably because he didn’t want to bother me. And there’s that rod of steel again. My gaze drifts to where Ilov is batting balls across the net to Mila. I want some way of sheltering Adam from all this bullshit. Most men would be running for the hills by now. Why isn’t he?

“I need to move him into my place.”

“Gotcha! And—real talk, girl—him being there is like leaving him in piranha-infested water. That could go down bad. The press will pester the neighbors, the whole deal. You want me to organize it?”

“That’d be amazing. I’ll chat to him now, but if you could make it all happen that would make everything easier. At least at my apartment he can escape the braying pack of wolves.”

“No problem, doll, I’m on it. Catch ya later.”

I turn my phone over in my hand, then press Adam’s number.

“Anna! How’re you doing?”

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