Page 13 of Best Year Ever
As I feel affirmed, and the guilt starts to recede again, the dressing room door swings open.
“Hi Miss Reilly,” comes a new voice with a hint of a Canadianaccent. “I’m Clara, your makeup artist for the photo shoot.” Clara starts clucking around me as she welcomes in other members of my glam squad for the day.
While they’re making small talk, I check my phone and see a text from Julie to my dad and me. “Updated for the clay court season schedule,” she says, with a link to an excel sheet with my tournament schedule for the year. She’s added the clay court tournaments planned for May and June, culminating in the French Open.
In tennis, we play on three types of surfaces. Hard court, like the Australian Open and most U.S. tournaments. Grass, the traditional tennis surface, is used largely in England, including at Wimbledon. And then clay, for many other European tournaments, such as the French Open.
When switching surfaces for the next Slam, you usually play a few warm-up tournaments first so you can get used to the different footwork required and changes in the way the ball bounces. I see that Julie has booked me for tournaments in Madrid and Rome before the big one at Roland Garros (aka the French Open). No complaints, as I love Europe. But clay is my least favorite surface, and reflexively, I start assessing the small changes I’ll want to make during that part of the season.
“Hello there, everyone,” I hear Nina exclaim as she walks back into the dressing room and takes in the now large crew working on me.
“Rori, I do have some news from my conversation with Nick,” Nina says as she sits down in a chair near me. “It turns out that Johnson had a family emergency, so there’s been a change in plans.”
“Oh okay, no problem. Am I going to do the shoot by myself, then?” I ask.
“No, they found a substitute, another football player,” Nina explains. “He was at the party in New York, I think you might have met. It’s?—”
“Me,” a familiar deep voice says from my open dressing room door.
I look up, and there he is. Taking up the entire door frame, with his hefty muscles popping out of a teal cotton shirt and white shorts. His curls are their normal length, looking like he had run his hand through them recently.
Landon. Grinning widely, with a twinkle in his eye.
CHAPTER 6
Landon
I’m not sure if my reveal is going to give her a jump scare, or even worse, make her upset.Maybe she didn’t have a good time that night, I let myself think for a minute.
But then my memory of her moaning as I licked her clit to her third orgasm that night comes roaring back. No, she had a great time.
So I keep smiling as I look at Rori’s stunned face, waiting for her to respond to my surprise appearance.
Her agent jumps into the silence and takes a step towards me. “Hi Landon, I’m Nina. We’ve met a few times. I’m at the same agency as Aiden. Glad to have a pro like you step in for Johnson.”
I turn my head away from Rori to acknowledge her. “Absolutely, I wouldn’t have missed this opportunity.”
As the agent smiles at me, I pivot my eyes back to Rori and decide to confront the awkwardness head-on.
“Hi, Rori. Nice to see you again.”
I get a chance to look at her more closely as I direct the comment her way. Her hair’s blown out, and thankfully, the makeup they have applied doesn’t take away from her natural beauty. I quickly check out her outfit—a tight peach athletic combo that showcases her amazingbody.
Strong, beautiful, and glowing. Just like I remember Rori.
At my greeting, she seems to wake up out of her shock and sits back in her chair as the ladies work around her.
“Good to see you, Landon,” she says with a small upturn of her mouth that doesn’t quite reach her eyes.
“Alright, now that we know our team today, why don’t we go over the plan really quick,” a woman on the photo team interjects.
She goes over the different shots we’ll do together and the clothing change breaks, but I’m lost in my own thoughts as my adrenaline cranks up in proximity to Rori. Does she not want to do this with me? Is she upset I’m here?
I’m not a man with insecurities, but something about her has me on my back foot.
“And if no one has any questions, Landon, why don’t I lead you to your dressing room so we can get you sorted,” the photo staff member continues.
“Sure,” I respond, snapping my head up. And with one last look at Rori, I wink and say, “See you out there.”
