Howler raised a dark eyebrow, shaking his head. “Off-roading?”
“Hey, you said to train her, and the treadmill wasn’t cutting it. She’s also had some issues with her ankle, so she’s been doing aquatic jogging and swimming.” Guilt over his part in her fall still rankled. She could have been seriously injured. Could have being key. She wasn’t and he had to stop beating himself up over something that didn’t happen.
“The town has a pool now?” Howler asked, leaning back in his chair.
“No, the old swimming hole is doing the trick. I got us some wetsuits and diving weights.” The sleek neoprene hugged Sorcha’s thighs and butt to perfection. Even in diving gear, she was tempting. He couldn’t share this information with the couple at the table. “Non-impact exercise. So far so good, the ankle seems to be stabilized.”
Raina released a visible shudder. “I remember falling into that river, it was cold as all get out.”
“Yes, it was,” Howler agreed. “Sorcha is okay with this unconventional training?”
“I didn’t give her a choice, but yes, she’s loving the off-roading, well, the downhill part.”
She’d yet to beat him up the hill, but not for want of trying. Once she accomplished that, he’d be satisfied that she’d reached the ultimate goal. “With the way she’s improved on the court since Tucker arrived, I think she’s on track for the Bellevue Invitational.”
Leo took a bite of broccoli, savoring the salty flavor. He’d been on the same diet as Sorcha and it was killing him. He’d never admit it to her, but he missed butter, big-time.
“Great news, but I don’t want us to get ahead of ourselves. She’s proven to be fickle in the past.”
The comment pricked his temper and he scowled. “You more than anyone should know better than to judge somebody from their past.”
Howler shared a surprised look with Raina. “That’s a big turnaround from last week. I’m glad to know you’re getting along with her.”
Don’t react. They were already suspicious about his about-face. Play it off and then let it go. “We have a truce of sorts. I’m even learning how to play tennis.”
“I tried in high school and failed miserably.” Raina shook her head, jaw angled. Something about the familiarity of the gesture caught him off guard?
“It wasn’t by choice. She beat me in arm-wrestling, and before you give me any shit, she’s strong.” He still couldn’t believe he’d lost to her. She’d roped him in with her sultry smile and he’d fallen for the con.
“Are there tapes? I’d love to watch.” Howler grinned, tenting his fingers.
“There are tapes of us playing tennis, yes. And no, I’m not sending them to you.” Leo ate another spoonful of mac and cheese. If Sorcha could see him now, she’d punish him on the court. “Although I’m getting damn good. Not as good as her, mind you, but I can hold my own.”
With Sorcha, both on the court and off.
“Grace called and confirmed the interview for next week. She’ wants to interview Tucker as well. In a lot of ways, he’s more newsworthy than she is, and he’s signing with our agency, so it’s a win-win for all of us,” Howler said.
“You won’t regret it.” Leo liked Tucker and trusted his instincts when it came to Sorcha. He wished his own feelings for her were as simple. She captured his imagination, kept him on his toes, and infuriated the fuck out of him.
He’d learned a stark lesson early on; he couldn’t always get what he wanted. For the sake of her career and his own sanity, he’d push through the attraction for her sake and for his.
It didn’t mean he had to like it.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Sorcha walked onto the set of Seattle Now, her heels clicking on the wooden floor. The studio was decorated with the Seattle landscape in the background and three comfortable chairs lined up across from the camera. There was a small studio audience, distant voices, and scuffles behind the lights of the camera. Leo was somewhere amongst them.
Grace came onto set, dressed in a pair of cream pants and a colorful floral silk top, her straight black hair falling about her shoulders. She’d dropped in briefly to reintroduce herself to Sorcha before she’d left Sorcha alone to get ready.
She indicated Sorcha sit. Sorcha perched on one of the cream-colored chairs, smoothing the skirt of her dress over her knees. The dress was form-fitting and tight, constricting her breath, but at least she looked good. Although she’d sat for countless interviews over the years, none seemed as important as this one. Her comeback tour.
A glass of water sat next to her and she took a sip. Grace smiled at Sorcha and pressed the earpiece to her ear, nodded and raised her chin.
The director called off the clock.
Nerves sparked to a higher level; Sorcha forced her fingers to relax. Inside she was a jumble of fears and insecurities. Human. She was human and had to accept the fact that she was no better or worse than anyone else.
“Welcome everyone to Seattle Now. Today our first guest is Sorcha Templeton, one of the top champion women’s tennis players in the world. Thank you for coming, Sorcha.”