Page 4 of Advantage Love

"Number one in Australia. Number three worldwide." He loosens his tie, a gesture that shouldn't be distracting but is. "The video's got ten million views."

"Fantastic. I'll add it to my resume while I'm applying for jobs at the local tennis club."

"Or," he pushes off from the door, "you could let me help you turn this around."

I laugh, but it comes out bitter. "Right. Because you're such a charitable guy."

"I never claimed to be." He moves closer, and I catch a hint of his cologne, expensive, subtle, maddeningly familiar. "I'm a businessman. I see an opportunity, I take it."

"And I'm your opportunity?"

His eyes darken slightly. "You could be. If you're smart about this."

"About what, exactly?"

"A partnership." He pulls out his phone, starts scrolling. "Your ranking's slipping. Sponsors are bailing. You need someone who can rebuild your image, and get you back in the game."

"And you need?"

"A breakthrough client." No pretense, at least. "Someone who'll get attention, make headlines for the right reasons this time."

I cross my arms. "So you want to be my agent? Thanks, but I think I'd rather teach tennis to toddlers."

"Not just your agent." He meets my eyes. "Your boyfriend."

The word hangs in the air between us. I wait for the punchline.

"You're joking."

"Think about it." He starts pacing, energy radiating off him. "The bad girl of tennis, tamed by her former rival and now agent. It's a story the media can't resist, they’ll eat it up."

"You want us to fake date?" The idea is absurd. Insane. Completely….possible?

"Two months." He stops in front of me. "That's all I'm asking. Long enough to change the narrative, get sponsors interested again. You focus on your game; I'll handle the PR."

"And what do you get out of this? Besides commission?"

"Partnership track at the agency. I land this, prove I can handle high-profile clients." He shrugs. "Everyone wins."

I turn away, needing distance from his intensity and from the memories his proximity stirs up. "And what happens when people realize it's fake?"

"They won't." His voice drops lower. "Because we'll make it convincing."

Heat crawls up my neck. "Like Miami?"

The air changes, and I hear him step closer but don't turn around.

"Miami was real." His voice rough now. "This would be business."

"Right." I face him, chin lifted. "Just business."

His eyes drop to my mouth for a fraction of a second. "Exactly."

"And there'd be rules?"

"Of course." He takes another step closer. I hold my ground. "Professional boundaries. Clear expectations. Everything in writing."

"No touching?"

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