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CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Drop Dead

W e had three weeks until Wimbledon. We’d flown home, even though staying in Europe would probably have made more sense, because Joel still felt bad about leaving Sandra alone. I totally got it. I wanted to be home too, even if just for a fortnight.

The first morning back in my apartment, I got up late, eating a couple of slices of toast and sipping at my latte while staring out my kitchen window. It was raining. I texted Joel and asked if I could have a day off training. He replied immediately.

Joel: Of course, Stink, just try not to miss me too much x

I rolled my eyes as I grabbed my umbrella and raced out to the letterbox. That would be my exercise for the day.

The letterbox was stuffed with the usual bills and a large, padded envelope, damp at the edges, from Allied Australian Publications. My mouth twisted in confusion as I took the stairs two at a time back to my apartment.

Discarding the bills, I ripped into the parcel, pulling out three copies of Woody.

In the picture they’d chosen to use for the cover I was kneeling on the court, gripping the handle of the racquet in an overtly phallic way. There was a handwritten note from the journalist who had interviewed me attached to the cover with a paperclip.

Mel, I hope I’ve done your story justice – and that our readers don’t miss the point entirely (spoiler alert, they might …), Kayla

I slid the note away, to see the headline they’d used for the cover story. ‘I LOVE HOT SEX!’

Oh, for fuck’s sake . I rubbed my forehead. This was totally not the message I’d been trying to get across. But of course, sex was always the focus. And then I read the smaller print under the headline.

‘ As long as you get my consent first.’ Mel Black talks tennis, relationships, and the infamous sex tape. Page 27.

I flicked through until I reached the feature. Another shot of me lying down, arching my back, filled one page. But there was a full article beside it. I glanced at the quote that had been highlighted in bold.

“I love exploring my sexuality, there’s nothing better than trying new things in bed. But me consenting to get adventurous with a partner isn’t blanket permission for them to act out their own fantasies without my knowledge.”

I laughed giddily as I devoured the article in its entirety. Kayla had indeed done the best she could. If it got through to just one horny teenage boy the importance of communication and consent, then I’d feel like the shit with Pete had all been worth it … somehow.

By late morning I was stir crazy. I almost called Joel to ask him to pick me up and train me. But then I mentally slapped myself

Instead, I called an Uber, and spent four hours and untold sums of money at the local Eastmeadow Shopping Centre.

Thoroughly retail-therapied out, I walked in the door of my apartment and plonked my purchases down on the kitchen table. Something fluttered to the floor.

Melanie , the creamy paper read. I unfolded the note.

Mel,

I don’t know if Joel told you, but I’m back in Australia – to stay.

I dropped by to visit you, but you weren’t home.

I would really like to see you soon, if you’re not busy.

I’m staying at my investment apartment in Kirribilli: 901/27 North South Road, until I get a chance to go house hunting.

It would be lovely to see you. Drop by tonight if you get a chance.

Love, Ben

I looked away from the paper. I wasn’t sure that I wanted to see him, after the conversation I’d overheard him having with Joel. He’d sounded frighteningly possessive. I thought I’d made it pretty clear that I wasn’t interested.

I sank down into a chair at my kitchen table and thought back over the conversation I’d had with Ben in Dubai. I’d told him I wasn’t interested, hadn’t I?

No, I hadn’t. I’d told him that there was no point in starting something up when he lived in Dubai and I was in Australia. Damn it! I’d thought I was letting him down easy. How was I supposed to know that he’d take it way too literally and move back here?

God, what should I do?

No answer.

I put my head in my hands. I couldn’t come up with a solution on my own. I couldn’t ask Joel, for a thousand different reasons.

And then another thought hit me. How the fuck had the note made its way to my kitchen table? If he’d dropped by while I was out, the most he could have done was slip it under my door. I shivered, suddenly feeling cold and very alone in my usually cozy apartment.

Someone had been in here while I was out. Amanda had known that I’d gotten home last night; I’d texted her so she wouldn’t wake me early in the morning on her way home from work, thinking she needed to give Connor his morning feed.

There was one other option.

I stood up, took a deep breath, picked up the phone and dialled.

“Hello?” my mother’s prim and proper voice answered.

“Hi, Mum,” I began. I opened my mouth to speak again, but she didn’t let me.

“Melanie! I can’t believe you would do this to me! I feel like I can’t show my face in church ever again!”

“Are you talking about Woody Magazine, Mum?” I asked.

“I’m talking about everything ! What’s gotten into you?

I’ve heard stories about this … video … and now you’re in your unmentionables on the cover of a sleazy men’s magazine!

And Maureen Turner told me that when she was dropping her daughter to work the other day, she saw a giant poster of you at Chatswood Eastmeadow, wearing underwear and spanking some boy with a tennis racquet!

“I didn’t get you into tennis so that you could make an exhibition of yourself in this way! Your behaviour is getting completely out of hand. Have you been to confession yet? Because I’m getting very tired of always telling Father Shannon that you’re just busy and you’ll pop by to see him soon.”

She stopped to take a breath and I jumped in.

“Okay, Mum, you listen to me!” I said. “What I do with my body is nobody’s business but mine.

If I decide that I want to pose naked , I’ll do it.

So you can just go tell Maureen Turner that she can stick it!

And the ‘boy’ who’s posing with me, that’s Joel , Mum – remember?

The son of the man who made me the player I am today.

Mum, you’ve known him and his family for almost six years now!

“I don’t play tennis because I want to make an exhibition of myself.

I play because I love it and because I’m good at it.

You haven’t even spoken to me since before Indian Wells – did you know I made it to the final?

Did you know that I’m now ranked in the top twenty female players in the world? I’m achieving my dream here, Mum!

“No I haven’t seen Father Shannon yet and I don’t plan on visiting him anytime soon. So you’d better stop making him promises that you can’t keep.

“I don’t want you snooping around my house when I’m not here. Either stay out, or I’ll change the locks. I’m sick of you butting into my life!”

I hung up before she had a chance to speak again. She’d probably read the letter from Ben instead of just leaving it on the table. That would have been her style.

I collapsed onto the lounge, all energy sapped from me. It had always been this way with Mum – fiery screaming matches that left me drained immediately after.

I sent a group text to Brad and Amanda:

Mel: SOS guys – need relationship advice stat!

Amanda replied within ten seconds.

Mandy Moo: Be there in thirty. OK if Thomas comes too?

Mel: Yep!

I grabbed a packet of rice crackers and cracked open a cold bottle of white wine and poured myself a glass.

By the time I heard the knock on the door, I was a little tipsy. Amanda and Thomas were outside, Amanda holding wine.

“Sounded like this might be needed,” she explained. I toasted her with my half empty glass and grabbed two more from the cupboard.

“Oh, none for me,” Amanda said. “I’ve got a shift at the hospital at nine-thirty. I can stay until then, but I can’t drink.”

“Thomas?” I turned hopefully to him. He nodded, accepting a glass from me. I threw him a grateful smile.

Another knock at the door. Brad grinned at me from the other side, holding up a bag of Chinese takeaway. I grabbed bowls and chopsticks, and we all moved to the kitchen table.

“So, what’s the big dilemma?” Amanda asked, popping a dim sum into her mouth.

I scooped up a piece of honey chicken and chewed while I thought about where to start.

“Okay, so you remember that day that you came round to Joel’s place, before I went to Dubai?” The three of them nodded, waiting for me to elaborate.

“Well, you remember Ben, Joel’s uncle?” They nodded again.

“Oooh, the hot one!” Amanda said. Thomas threw her a mock hurt look and she grabbed his hand.

“Hot for Mel, not for me! You know I’m super turned on by your whole non-threatening nerd vibe!”

Thomas barked out a laugh. “Yep, I don’t feel completely emasculated right now!” But he turned and pressed a kiss to her temple, and she snuggled in closer.

Jesus, I wanted what they had so damn bad.

“Yeah, that’s Ben. Well, turns out he has a … bit of a thing for me. We stayed at his place in Dubai while we were there, and some … stuff happened between us.”

Amanda was virtually bouncing out of her seat; she loved my spicy drama. Thomas watched with polite interest, I guess not really knowing what to expect next.

Brad … his face was frozen the way I imagine someone looks when they’re trying not to be completely disgusted.

“Okay, so he seemed like a sweet, nice kind of guy. But, in the bedroom … oh my God, it was awful. Like, the worst sex you could possibly imagine; he was just completely clueless. But I didn’t realise until after that he was into me for more than just …

you know. Well, he did say a couple of weird things, but I didn’t …

well, I assumed it was just casual, or I would never have …