Page 40 of Match Point

It was complicated. She’d refrained from sleeping with anyone she worked with after her last disastrous relationship with her bodyguard.

“Did you call security on him?” she asked. Her voice came out low and worried. She cleared her throat. She couldn’t let Leo see her upset by this or alert the men in the front to her distress. “Not that it’ll do any good.”

“No, it would only make things worse. I gave him my card and invited him to the press conference.”

“What the hell did you do that for?” The question came out louder than she intended. Breathing through her nose, she tried to calm the rising panic.

Howler glanced at her in the rearview mirror, eyebrow cocked. She averted her gaze, heart in her throat.

“He wants a story and he’ll stalk you until he gets one,” Leo said.

“Stalking is the key word. I have a restraining order against him in Ireland, but they refused to grant me one in the States.” She turned her attention to the heavy traffic, agitated by the entire situation. After leaving the green room, she’d expected things to be a bit awkward and had been pleased that they’d continued their flirtation in the elevator. Then Tim had to ruin it, dragging her back into a harsh reality.

“That wasn’t included in your paperwork to our public relations team,” Howler said.

“It was a personal matter.” She blew out a breath, missing her dad even more. He’d handled all these painful things for her, and getting upset with Leo or Howler didn’t help. It was apparent that Leo had no idea what he’d done, which meant she’d have to explain every painful detail. After such a stimulating afternoon, her evening was turning into a colossal drag.

“We can’t help you if you don’t tell us the truth,” Leo said. He clasped her hand, his fingers warm against her own cold ones.

She wanted to curl her fingers into his, but she couldn’t afford the luxury. They weren’t alone. She crossed her arms against a sudden chill and swallowed. “I’m surprised you all didn’t read about it online, but then again, it was five years ago.”

Silence hung in the car, broken by the windshield wipers. How to disclose the ugly truth without revealing her own stupidity? No, not stupid, naïve, and vain. “Tim started following me when I turned twenty one. He’d show up at whatever bar I was at, get pictures of me and my friends drinking. Of course, I was number one on the circuit for the first time and I liked the attention. I was on the front of fashion magazines, attended the best parties, and made out with, well, a lot of guys.”

“Living the dream?” he asked, tapping his finger against his thigh.

“I said made out with—not fucked—so you can stop with the judgement. It was fun for a while, until it wasn’t.” In many ways, she was sheltered from the world by her dad and insulated from the shady side of professional athletics. She’d gathered fans across the globe, signed thousands of tennis balls and t-shirts. “With exposure came the slime balls, paparazzi who got paid by the picture, the seedier the shot, the better. Back then, a picture of me dancing in the cage would have ruined my career. I was the Tennis Court Princess after all.”

“You still are a bit of a princess,” he said, a small tilt at the corner of his mouth.

She nudged him with her elbow and rolled her eyes. “Sorcha means Princess in Gaelic.”

He laughed at her teasing, the sound cutting through the tension that rode her shoulders. “That’s why the nickname makes sense. For the record, dancing in the cage can still hurt your career,” he said.

Her night out with Trent had been therapeutic and she refused to apologize for it. “I felt sorry for Tim the pap. I was in Paris and it was snowing. I saw him on the street outside my hotel room, just standing on the corner in a flimsy jacket with no gloves. All the other paps had left but he stayed.”

“He had nowhere to go.” It was a statement, not a question.

“That’s what I assumed. He was kind of cute and I was fascinated by his profession, curious as to what made him tick. I sent the bellhop over and invited him in for dinner. We sat at the bar, had a surprisingly great conversation. I figured if I could humanize myself and develop a truce, he’d back off. As you can guess, it didn’t work.” A fool. She’d been a naïve fool.

“He makes his living taking embarrassing photographs,” Howler said. “Money is what makes him tick.”

Now came the hard part. She tightened her fingers in Leo’s, gaining strength from his strength.

“In my case, it wasn’t just the money. He tried to convince me to bring him back to my room. I refused and he left.” She retrieved her purse from the floor, extracting her compact. Even after so many years, it was still difficult to forget the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach when she recalled that night.

Nobody said a word, but she could sense the silent question. She considered changing the subject, praying that he’d let it drop, but this was Leo. He wasn’t shy about asking her to clarify further or to simply find out the truth for himself.

The Pike Street Market sign appeared in the distance and the car couldn’t get there fast enough for her.

“When I went to catch the elevator, the front desk person told me it was broken so I took the stairs.” She dabbed on some lipstick and padded more of the powder over the beard burn that reddened the underside of her chin. A short hour before, she’d seduced Leo, and everything had been right in her world. Everything changed in an instant and she was forced to relive something she’d rather forget. “My room was on the fourth floor and he was waiting for me on the third floor landing.”

Leo’s thigh that still rested against hers tensed.

“I tried to blow it off. He came after me and kissed me against my will. I kicked him in the balls and went back to my room. He called the police on me. Said I assaulted him on the way to his room. On the third floor of the same hotel. Turns out he was smoking on the street corner when I spied him.” She’d been gullible and had felt sorry for him. “It was all over Scandal, the rag-mag that he works for. Of course, the cameras in the stairwell were broken so it was my word against his.”

“Miller’s magazine, no big surprise there,” Howler said with a scowl as he dodged a group of tourists and braked fast.

Sorcha was jostled against Leo. She’d never heard anyone say anything positive about Miller. It was apparent by Howler’s comment that he didn’t like the guy.

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