Page 58 of Match Point

The tears returned and she shifted in her chair, pulling out a packet of tissues. “I’ve been traveling across the world as a nurse, working beside my husband until I couldn’t anymore.”

“I never heard from you. Not a letter or a phone call since I turned sixteen.” And asked to come live with you. There, he’d said what was upmost on his mind.

“Because you were insisting on moving to Nicaragua and you wouldn’t take no for an answer. It’s a dangerous country, especially for children. Boys are inducted into gangs and girls are often abused. It was the most difficult decision of my life but I couldn’t subject you to that kind of world. I just couldn’t.” Pleading eyes met his, begging for understanding. “You were in a good home and you were happy. That’s all a mother can ask for her children.”

I didn’t know if you were alive or dead—” Leo placed his hand over his mouth, trying to rein in his hurt. He was a grown man, not a kid desperate for his mother.

“. It was a horrible situation. I know it hurt you. It killed me to leave you. I’m so sorry, but by the time I had the resources, you were eighteen and the state no longer told me where you were, and then this happened.” She pointed to her chair and he reached across to take her hand.

She raised it to her face and rested her cheek on it. With a watery smile, she whispered. “Tu es mi amor y mi corazon.” You are my love and my heart.

Chapter Forty-Six

Sorcha gripped her racket handle and palmed the ball. The crowds were quiet with the occasional murmur. She tuned them out, concentrating on the blonde on the other side of the net. The woman wore all white, the color popping off her olive skin. She was also frazzled and losing steam. One more good serve and she’d be a goner. One more opponent out of the way.

Popping the ball into the air, Sorcha drew back her arm and hit it over the net. Her opponent rushed forward, racket moving in a short arc. She overshot the return and the ball bounced to the side. The crowd erupted after the loss and Sorcha approached the net, shaking the woman’s hand.

Relieved and exhausted from a strenuous day, she jogged to the sidelines and high-fived Tucker.

“Excellent job!”

“Thanks,” she said, taking a fresh bottle of water from Trent.

“You kicked butt.” Trent draped a clean towel over her neck, grinning broadly.

“Yes, I did.” It was about time. She’d almost lost the first match but was able to pull off the upset. Three matches won, two more to go. She walked into the clubhouse and stopped short at the sight of a tall, familiar figure coming out of the locker room.

“Nina Garcia,” Trent murmured, looking from Sorcha to the other woman.

“Hello, Sorcha,” Nina said, flipping her long brown braid over her shoulder. She had tan skin, perfectly applied makeup and a sarcastic smile twisting her lips.

Sorcha tilted her head and settled her hand on her hip. “Nina. I thought I smelled something rank.”

“Really, Sorcha? Do you really want to talk rank? Because my ranking is much higher than yours,” Nina shot back.

Sorcha walked closer to her adversary, staring her down. While a few inches taller than herself, Nina didn’t possess the same powerful serve. Her strength was her speed, and thanks to Leo, Sorcha had gained the stamina to compete with her rival. The high she’d gotten off her last win deflated. It had been a week since he’d left, and she hadn’t heard anything from him. Not an email, not a text, nothing.

“Nina and Sorcha?” Tim, the pap from Miller’s magazine called from the doorway where a security guard stood, blocking the obnoxious man from entering the clubhouse.

Sorcha threw the towel over her head, blocking her face. Nina grinned at the cameraman. Of course she did; the magazine gave her positive PR and villainized Sorcha. Ever since she racked the guy for assaulting her.

“Come on, let’s get you out of here. I have a car out back.” Tucker took her elbow and steered her toward the exit. Outside, Vicki, her new manager was on the phone. Vicki had amber eyes in an oval face, nice skin and a compact body. She was organized and no-nonsense. Like Leo.

“Aren’t you coming? We can catch some dinner and watch the tapes,” Sorcha said.

Tucker darted a glance at Vicki before he met Sorcha’s eyes. By the heated glances Tucker cast in her direction, he was attracted to her. Interesting. She’d never pegged this woman for his type, but then her attraction to Leo had proved how off her own judgement was.

Was it her imagination or was Tucker’s color heightened? He’d been fighting a sinus infection. She prayed he wasn’t getting sick. “No, I promised Marco I’d introduce him to some of the other coaches. He’s in the market for a good coach and I have my hands full with you.”

“Are you trying to tell me I’m a handful?” she asked.

“Yes, you know you are. Go back to Howler’s and get some rest. I’ll see you later tonight.”

She nodded, her earlier adrenaline rush dissipating. Climbing into the car, Sorcha plopped down in the seat and waited for the rest of her entourage to climb into the front seat. Her phone chimed and she read the text, a stupid smile curving her lips. Leo.

LF: Congratulations. Three out of three. I’m impressed.

I kicked butt and if I win tomorrow, I compete against Nina in the final. If I lose… anxious emoticon.

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