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“Tell me about the rackets, please,” Mac looked up at her and blushed. It was the description of her game she’d always hoped for. A combination of brute force and understanding was what Mac spent decades honing.

As Margaret launched into her speech about each racket, Mac tried to avoid looking over at Taylor. But her eyes felt drawn to her. With a racket in hand, Taylor stood from her bench and twirled it in her hand.

Even from across the room, Taylor’s eyes looked past the racket at Mac.

Averting her eyes, Mac looked back to Margaret. Once the coast was clear, Mac allowed her eyes to look at Taylor in her periphery again. She wore a delicate, white tank top that blew in the slightest breeze. It framed her toned biceps perfectly while giving her plenty of movement as she tested each racket.

Mac’s heart pounded as Taylor moved through her forearm grip before switching to her backhand.

“Ready to try it?” Margaret’s words ripped Mac from her haze, as the racket appeared before her.

Nodding, Mac tore her eyes from Taylor. “Yeah, that’d be great.”

Mac stood up, gripping the fresh piece of carbon in her hands. The overgrip was crisp, no sweat stains marking its neck. It was lighter than Mac’s current racket.

“So the Titanium is meant to absorb more of the shock, stopping your arm from taking too much of the force.” Margaret said as she watched Mac twist the racket in her hands.

Mac shrugged. “It feels nice.” She lifted the piece up, positioning her hand in just the right spot. Turning toward Taylor and Kim, Mac got into her serving position. Without straining herself, Mac faked a swing.

Biting her lip, Babs shook her head. “It’s too light. Do you have something slightly heavier.”

“How did you know?” Mac rolled her eyes.

“That’s what you pay me for.” Babs gave Mac a pat on the back.

While Margaret returned to her cart of equipment, Mac sat back down. She looked at her shoes for a while before Kim’s voice made her look up. Across the store, Kim was bent over the back of Taylor’s bench, whispering in her ear. Mac could tell just from the purse of her lips how furious Kim was.

Taylor’s face stayed neutral. But when she felt Mac’s eyes on her, she lifted her gaze and met Mac’s.

Mac’s heart stopped as Taylor’s eyes softened.What the fuck is she thinking?

12

Taylor

“I just can’t believethey would treat us like that.” Kim shook her head as she tossed her menu down onto the table.

Taylor sighed. “To be fair, none of them know about…”

Scoffing, Kim crossed her arms. “It’s not about whosheis to you. You’re a star and you deserve to be treated as such. Not just lumped in with some lucky quarterfinalist.”

The waiter came to the table and Taylor smiled up at him. “I think we’re ready to order.”

He took out his notebook as the duo recited their choices. While Kim gave hers, Taylor tapped her finger against the wrought iron table. A warm summer breeze blew toward the outdoor seating of the Fifth Avenue brunch spot.

Once the waiter disappeared, Kim stared off into the traffic. Her sunglasses hid her face as usual, making it hard for Taylor to figure out exactly what her mother was thinking.

“We’re going to have to train harder. Every outlet is talking about how she might come for your title at Wimbledon. We can’t let that happen.” Kim’s lip twitched as the words left her mouth.

Taylor cleared her throat. “I’ve been thinking about that, actually.”

With a chuckle, Kim leaned back. “Oh good, a bright idea from the star.”

It took everything in Taylor to suppress her eye roll. “I think I need to practice with more unknown players. Everyone in the tournaments is used to regulation rules and what the audience likes. But that isn’t conducive to winning against newbies.”

Kim shook her head. “No.”

Taylor’s head dropped. “But it’s also about public perception. Everyone thinks I’m too high and mighty. That’s why they want Mackenzie to beat me. I’m the spoiled rich girl. In their eyes, I didn’t earn it.”