Page 30 of Match Point

Even though I was technically retired now, my life didn’t seem to be slowing down any time soon. When I returned home to New Jersey after the Australian Open, I immediately turned around and flew to Los Angeles for a week of auditions for Celebrity Survivor. That’s right: a full week of interviews with the producers, directors, and writers (yes, writers) of the show. There was a lot more scripted content than I expected for a reality show. But all the work was worth it, because at the end of the week I found out I was being given the last slot on the show.

When I got home, I immediately texted Dominic. It took him several hours to text me back.

Me: I’m finally back in New Jersey! Got any plans this weekend?

Me: More specifically: got any plans you’d be willing to cancel to get dinner with me instead?

Dominic: Sorry for the slow response. It’s 6:00 AM here in Dubai.

Me: Crap! I forgot all about the Dubai Invitational.

Dominic: Coach wants me to stay sharp between now and the French. I’ll be home in two weeks, and I intend to keep a completely empty schedule until the Quebec tournament.

Me: Two weeks? UGH.

Dominic: What?

Me: In two weeks, I fly to Costa Rica for the next season of Celebrity Survivor.

Dominic: I wish you could see me right now, because I’m laughing really hard at the mental image of you eating bugs.

Me: You don’t think I could do it?

Dominic: I think you would crush the physical competitions, but fall apart when you have to do something gross.

Me: I played outdoors when I was a little girl. Bugs don’t scare me!

Dominic: How long is filming?

Me: One week of prep work, then thirty days for the competition itself. Or, at least however long until I get voted off.

Dominic: Is it bad that I’m kind of hoping you get sent home early so I can see you?

Me: Is it bad that I’m hoping you lose in the first round of the Dubai Invitational for the same reason?

Dominic: Wow. Uncalled for.

Dominic: But also totally understandable. That will be a nice silver lining if I lose.

Me: I’m still MOSTLY rooting for you!

Dominicdidn’tlose, and won the minor tournament. This wasn’t too surprising: most ranked players were skipping the tournament this year, including Gabriel Moreau. And the day Dominic landed at Newark, I was already on a flight down to Central America.

Filming Survivor was so much fun. I made it to the final week before being eliminated, but most of the cast had to stick around for interviews and minor reshoots.

And by the time I got home, Dominic was off to Quebec for another tournament. I briefly considered flying up there to surprise him, but ultimately decided against it. That felt like too big a move considering we’d only been on one date together. And it really wasn’t a date—just a few drinks before hooking up.

In the blink of an eye, it was mid-May and the French Open was looming. Dominic flew to Paris a week early to get used to the time difference, and to shoot a few commercials. I was scheduled for a flurry of interviews and match commentary gigs with NBC, so I flew to Paris three days before the tournament began. I landed in the morning, and immediately scheduled a dinner with Dominic.

“I booked a nice place for us for dinner,” he said on the phone. “I’m shooting a cologne commercial all day, so I’ll meet you there at seven.”

“Cologne commercial?” I replied. “Well aren’t you Mr. Fancy Pants?”

“I seem to remember a former female tennis player doing a lot of perfume commercials.”

“Don’t change the subject. This is about you, not me. Besides, that was me in a former life. I’m a new woman, now.”

There was a ruffling noise on the line. “Gotta go—the makeup girl is waving at me. See you tonight!”

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