Page 82 of Courting Trouble
As people began to shuffle out, Delilah let go. She glanced at Cassie with a half-smile.
‘Drink?’ she asked, as if nothing had happened.
Cassie nodded. ‘Sure.’
Cassie knew this was a big day for Delilah and that she was feeling the pressure. But Petra had been wrong. This could be something. It had to be. If Cassie could find the nerve to say it.
Seventy-Nine
Delilah leaned against the polished wooden railing of the patio while people milled and chatted behind her. The scent of champagne mingled with the faint tang of the tennis courts drifting up from below. She was alone. Cassie had excused herself to the bathroom, leaving Delilah a few minutes to quietly freak out about what was coming if she needed to.
But she felt OK. Cassie had prepared her for this. And Cassie thought she could do it. That meant something. A lot, actually.
Ashley sidled up to Delilah, a conspiratorial grin on her face. ‘So… what’s going on with you and Cassie?’
Delila was furious at her agent. ‘Why are you asking me aboutthatright now? You know this is an audition, don’t you?’
‘Sure. But my God, the tension between you two is bloody outrageous. I nearly cut myself just standing between you.’
Delilah cocked her head at Ashley. ‘You’re trying to distract me, aren’t you?’
‘Yes. Would you let me?’ Ashley asked.
Delilah sighed. She couldn’t deny it. ‘…Yeah, something is happening with me and Cassie,’ she admitted, her voice low.
Ashley leaned closer, curiosity gleaming. ‘And… where’s it going? Is it… serious?’
Delilah’s eyes flicked to the edge of the patio, and her heart skipped a beat. James Rourke was heading toward her, Lena Dalton with him. There was no time for love confessions.
Delilah pressed a hand to Ashley’s arm and whispered, ‘I don’t have time for that right now.’
She turned and braced.
‘Delilah, there you are,’ James said, reaching them. ‘Have you met Lena before?’
Delilah looked at Lena Dalton and gave her very best and politest meeting-people smile. ‘No. Hi. How did you find the match?’
‘Not bad,’ Lena said. ‘It’s not the first time I’ve seen either of them; they were both at Wimbledon last year. The play’s just a little more… well, competitive, I guess.’
Delilah nodded. ‘I’m sure.’
James turned to Delilah. ‘How’d you find it?’
‘Interesting,’ Delilah said and then added. ‘Santos was mixing up his spins more than usual, and Fujimoto—her footwork, the way she angled those drop shots—it was clever.’
Delilah had spoken before she thought, but she couldn’t help but notice that James looked slightly agog. She didn’t hate it.
James glanced around the room. ‘Hey, Delilah, did you know that the guests are going to play a bit?’
Delilah smiled. ‘They are?’ she said, resisting the urge to clutch her pearls in mockery.
‘What do you think? You up for it?’ he asked.
Delilah shrugged. ‘Sure.’
‘Lena, you were looking for someone to play, right?’ James said with a rictus grin.
Lena looked at him with barely masked annoyance. ‘Was I?’
