Page 44 of The Pickleball Girl Finds Her Match

A heated match played in front of them, with the typicalthwak, thwak, thwak, dink, dinka, thwakas the players hit and dropped the plastic ball. Three dogs were leashed up under a nearby tree, a bowl of water nearby. The tiny white Chihuahua growled and yapped sharply as they went past.

“What’s up?” Endy asked, lowering herself to the bench beside Joel. She couldn’t see his eyes behind his mirrored sunglasses, but his lips were pulled in a frown.

“I just got out of a meeting with Daniel,” said Joel. He placed his arms on his knees and leaned forward. “He told me that the board received a formal complaint that went to the chairman. It’s important enough that they are discussing taking action.”

“Action for what?”

“For closing down pickleball,” he said, drawing a finger across his throat. “Here at Whisper Hills.”

“Joel, that is ridiculous!”

“Is it?” They surveyed the grounds around them. Golf carts parked haphazardly on the neatly clipped lawn, one with its stereo blasting. They’d had to raise their voices over the dogs tied nearby when the Chihuahua began yapping again, setting off the others. Someone had even brought out a portable insulated keg cooler, which sat dripping under the awning.

“We just have to try harder with these guys.” Endy waved her hands toward the pickleball players. “You know, get them to tone it down, clean things up.”

“We’ve already tried that, Endy. It’s gone nowhere. Our efforts fall on deaf ears.”

“But to close it down completely? What will they do with the courts?” But Endy knew the answer to that. They’d revert them to tennis courts. Because tennis was where the money and prestige were. The tennis lessons that Joel taught could bring in over $145 per hour, and he was often booked solid throughout the day. Tennis racquets cost well over $200 each, and a single tennis dress could fetch more than $150. Even Sloane Stewart’s junior tennis academy already had full funding.

“Check this out,” continued Joel. “Guess who put in the formal complaint.”

Endy’s eyebrows came together, and she shook her head. “I couldn’t begin to guess.”

“I’ll give you a hint,” replied Joel. “We’re sitting on their bench.” He patted the seat next to them.

Endy leaned forward and then turned around to read the plaque mounted on the back.

In Memory of

CLIVE TENNYSON

Husband. Friend. Tennis Champion.

She gasped. “Barbara Tennyson?” She thought back to the time she’d run into Barbara and been dismissed so completely by her, when she’d dubbed Endy thepickleball girl.

Joel slowly blinked and nodded. “She’s the sole complainant. The board is meeting in a month to finalize their decision. And I have to be honest with you, Endy,” said Joel, his face serious. “I don’t actually know what they’ll do about your job at the pro shop if pickleball goes away.”

Endy closed her eyes and hung her head. How could Barbara Tennyson be so angry that she’d want to shut down a whole pickleball program? And did she really have that much say, that much pull? Probably. There were other Whisper Hills club members who felt the same way she did and would support her, if needed. What had Steven Markowitz called them?The tennis purists.

Endy drew a deep breath and bit her lower lip. If the pickleball program at Whisper Hills got shut down and her job got eliminated, Barbara Tennyson would be more than satisfied. She’d get her tennis courts back and be rid of anything having to do with pickleball altogether … including Endy.

28

Sebastian limped to his car after coming out of his physical therapy session at the sports club, but his face lit up when he saw her walking across the parking lot. Endy’s slender build moved gracefully—he couldn’t get enough of seeing her dark, shiny hair hanging across her shoulders and her long legs under her short tennis skirt.

But she looked distracted and seemed to be chewing at her thumbnail, so he moved silently behind her. When he got close enough, he grabbed her from behind and wrapped her in a tight embrace.

“Gah!” she screamed but swatted playfully at his arms when she realized it was him. “There you go again, being a strange man approaching someone in an empty parking lot.” She wrapped her arms around Sebastian’s neck and lifted her chin to look into his eyes.

Sebastian chuckled. “I’m not so strange.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” she replied, laughing. “Kiss me so I can decide whether you are or not.”

Sebastian pulled Endy closer and pressed his warm lips against hers. He sucked at her lower lip as his hand traveled from her waist down her hip and tugged at her short skirt. “Here I go, being a strange man making moves on a gorgeous someone in an empty parking lot,” he whispered against her lips.

Endy leaned into Sebastian’s kiss then pulled back with a sigh. “Maybe not soverystrange, but I’m still a little undecided. Could we take this back up later tonight? I can order a pizza, and we can watch a movie or something,” she offered, tilting her head and giving him a seductive wink.

He kissed her temple, then draped his arm across her shoulders, and she reached up, intertwining their fingers. Sebastian frowned and shifted his weight. “Damn, Endy, I wish you would have asked me earlier. I can’t tonight since I already have dinner plans.”

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