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I watched Maddy as she hurried off, her hair fanning out behind her.
Why did I have to find girls with issues—particularly this tall, blond one—so compelling?
I turned back to Mia, trying to follow what she was saying about the trendy bars she frequented in Boston. But all I heard was “Blah blah blah, me me me, blah blah blah.” Mia was certainly pretty, and she knew it, but I had no interest in her, all her cooing over my lacrosse history, or her eye-fuckery business. She was pure wedding-guest predator, looking to hook up and have a wild weekend with someone new. I didn’t judge her for that. I also couldn’t get into it.
But I knew I was getting into something, all right. My heart had twisted when Maddy sat on my lap. I’d just about burst with pride, which was ridiculous. It was pretend, and I knew it.
But still…I thought of the way she’d smiled at me. I was good at picking out fake smiles. Maddy’s was real.
Maybe I shouldn’t be so harsh about her issues—her family was pretty screwed up. Speaking of which, Mr. Delaney waved impatiently from the head of the table. “Let’s get a move on!”
“Excuse me.” I flashed the dimple at Mia, the only consolation prize I had to offer. “It was nice talking to you.”
She looked vaguely surprised. Probably not too many men willingly left her presence.
Still, I breathed a sigh of relief as I escaped and joined Mr. Delaney. “I’m ready, sir.” Tennis, and exercise in general, were where I felt most at home.
“Just a friendly match.” Mr. Delaney patted my shoulder. “It should only hurt a little.”
I changed into the tennis whites Madison had provided, and I was stretching near the changing rooms.
“Are you nervous?” A female voice whispered behind me.
I turned, and when I saw it was Mrs. Delaney, I jumped a little. “Not at all. I enjoy tennis. Your husband was very kind to include me.”
She leaned against the building, her eyes raking over me yet again. “Don’t let Art fool you. He takes his tennis very seriously, probably more seriously than he takes his own daughters. He might not even know there’s a wedding going on this weekend, but he’ll be able to recite the lineup for the Australian Open, even though it’s still months away.” She smiled without warmth. “He was never much of a partner to me, you know. He’s left me alone an awful lot.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” I didn’t know if I was sorry or not, but I needed to be polite. I decided to stretch my wrists next because it was the most benign thing I could think of.
She leaned closer. “Not as sorry as I am, darling.”
“Mom, hey!” Madison suddenly appeared, looking flushed. “Let’s give Bob a chance to warm up, okay?”
Mrs. Delaney fanned herself. “I’d say he’s plenty hot already.”
Maddy rolled her eyes. “Dad’s waiting, and he’s on the warpath. Let’s go.” She ushered her mother off and smiled at me nervously. “My dad can be a little intense about tennis.”
“I can handle it. I play with all types of people. I’ll get a read on him, and I’ll adjust. I promise I won’t be a jerk.”
“Oh no—no. That’s not what I’m worried about. I’m worried he’s going to be a jerk. Like, a big jerk. He’s a nice guy, but for some reason, the tennis court is where he lets his freak flag fly.” She gave me another tentative smile. “So just be ready.”
“You’re cute when you’re worried about me.” My voice came out a little husky.
Maddy squeezed my hand. “I’m not worried, not yet. Just let him win.”
“Excuse me?”
Her nervous smile broadened. “Just let him win. And maybe make him look good.”
“Um…okay.” Obviously, Maddy didn’t know me very well. I was a humble guy, and I didn’t like to show off, but I was a damn good athlete. Also, letting other people win violated my sense of fairness and honesty. It was like cheating and I hated cheating.
Losing was so not my thing. I looked across the court at Art Delaney, who was wearing a sweatband across his forehead without an ounce of irony. He was more fit than I’d realized. The sinewy muscles in his calves were evidence of years on the court. He bent down to stretch his hamstring, and two other men walked out onto the court. One was older than Mr. Delaney, with a white mustache; the other was younger than me, fit and trim, rocking an enormous smart sports watch. They nodded to Mr. Delaney, who casually pointed in my direction. “That’s Bob,” he said. “Maddy’s new boyfriend. She says he can play.” He snorted.
The men approached me. “I’m Lucas,” the younger one said, gripping my hand hard.
“And I’m Frank.” The older gentleman shook my hand, too, and leaned closer. “You need to watch out for Art. He plays dirty.”
“Bob, you’re with Frank. Lucas, with me.” Art nodded in my direction. “Good luck, son.”
