I turn in Devon’s hold and place a hand flat to his chest as I plaster a fake smile on my face before I lift to my toes and press a kiss to his lips. It’s firm and there’s nothing affectionate about it. This kiss screamsshut-the-fuck-up-and-butt-out-of-my-tennis-game.
“Ah ... should we get started then?” Rob stumbles over his words, staring at me and his boss.
I force Devon’s hands from their death grip on me and spin my racket. “I’ve never been more ready.”
“If you insist.” Devon looks about as happy as he did when he found me lounging next to the pool yesterday. Hisjacket parts when he slides his hands into his trouser pockets. “I’ll watch.”
“Of course, you will,” I mutter.
I jog to the other side of the net and Roman follows. Devon stalks off the court but stops on the other side of the fence. He’s too tense to make himself comfortable on a bench apparently. Once we get out of earshot of Rob and Devon, Roman turns to me. “So I guess the rumors are true.”
I’m not an idiot. I know what this looks like. Everyone here knows who I am and that I was supposed to get married just a few days ago not far from where we’re standing.
I’m all out of fucks and take my place at the baseline. “My last name is Madison. I’m used to people gossiping about me, which makes me immune to rumors.”
Roman proves he gives few fucks about what I think and keeps pressing. “Rumor is the American Princess has moved on. Seeing as you’re kissing another man, and that man refuses to take his eyes off you, I’d say there’s a lot of truth to that rumor.”
I glance from Roman to Devon, who has slipped on a pair of shades, but it’s no secret who he’s glaring at.
Rob fires up the ball machine and yells, “Are you guys ready? You two are pros, I can tell. I’m cranking up the velocity. Madison, you first.”
I’ve had enough of everyone. I ignore the tennis pro and the possessive Brit and turn fully to Roman. “You said we’ve met, but I don’t recall what company you’re with. What do you do again?”
Roman swings his racket back and forth like a pendulum. “I knew you didn’t remember me. I’m an independent contractor these days.”
“I see.”
“Harlow, are you ready?” Rob yells from across the court.
I hold a finger up and motion for him to give me a minute and focus on Roman. “Who did you work for when we met at that fundraiser?”
Roman shrugs. “A tech company out of Great Britain. No one you’ve heard of, I’m sure. They aren’t nearly as generous as Stonebridge.”
“Not many are. I take it upon myself to make sure mymother’s foundation lives on. I pressure my father to give generously. Who are you contracting with these days?”
Roman tips his head to study me but says nothing.
Rob keeps trying. “I don’t want you two to waste your lesson time. If Harlow doesn’t want to go first, you’re up, Roman.”
Neither Roman nor I glance across the net. Something sours in my stomach and suddenly, everything feels off. “We’ve never met, have we?”
Roman takes a step back.
I move closer.
“Why did you tell me we’ve met?” I demand.
Roman’s eyes shift so slightly. I barely catch it, but his stare moves past me to the lake and mountains.
I tense.
“Let’s see what you’ve got!” Rob yells. “We’re going to start with a top spin!”
“Harlow!” This gets my attention, because it’s not Rob. It’s Devon, and he’s running toward us. Even behind his sunglasses, his expression is grave when he points off into the distance. “Get down!”
Confused, I turn to look over my shoulder, but everything happens at once.
The pop of the ball machine.