Page 10 of Courting Trouble

Delilah blinked. ‘Jesus.’

Cassie turned and walked to the baseline. ‘Stretch. Properly. Ten minutes, full warm-up.’

She could feel Delilah glaring at her back. There was a long pause before the rustle of fabric signalled movement. Then some very half-hearted lunges.

Cassie bounced a ball, preparing for the first drill of the day: a simple forehand feed. Cassie sent ten balls over the net, evenly spaced, not too fast. Delilah missed nine.

‘Good effort,’ Cassie said flatly.

Delilah turned to face her, sweat already sticking her hair at her temples. ‘That was sarcasm.’

‘That was the truth. You’re trying, and I can see that. Now, try bending your knees before you swing.’

Cassie fed the next ball. This time, contact. It skidded off the racket frame and into the side netting.

Delilah let out a bark of laughter. ‘This really is pathetic.’

‘Could always walk off again,’ Cassie said casually, scooping up the next ball. She didn’t look at her. Just felt the weight of the silence settle for a beat too long.

‘I’m not going to walk off,’ Delilah said finally. ‘I’m not a quitter.’

Cassie looked up. Just briefly. ‘Good,’ Cassie said. And fed the next ball.

It went on like that. Two hours. Heat rising off the court, Delilah’s form slowly improving in microscopic increments. She didn’t complain again, not out loud.

By the end of the session, Delilah was soaked in sweat and hunched on a bench, breathing hard.

Cassie tossed her a water bottle. ‘Same time tomorrow.’

Delilah took it without looking up. ‘You’re not going to say well done?’

Cassie shrugged. ‘You’re not there yet.’

Delilah let out a dry laugh. ‘You’re not a flies-with-honey type, are you?’

Cassie considered saying something nice. But she didn’t.

‘Stretch before you seize up,’ she said and walked away.

She didn’t see Delilah roll her eyes. But she heard the muttered, ‘Bloody hell,’ as she passed through the gate.

Cassie smiled to herself. Delilah needed to be pushed. And Cassie could handle that.

Thirteen

Delilah peeled off her sports bra with the air of someone shedding battle armour. It landed on her bathroom floor with a wet slap. Her entire body ached. Not just the usual post-Pilates glow. This was full-body sabotage. Even her toes felt tired.

She stared at herself in the mirror. Red cheeks, sweat-matted fringe. She looked broken.

She turned on the shower, stepped in, and groaned as the hot water hit her lower back like a grudge.

Delilah closed her eyes and leaned her head against the tiles. She could still hear the scrape of Cassie’s voice—low, flat, unimpressed. She gave compliments as if they cost money. And Delilah hadwantedone. That was the most irritating part. She’d been standing there, legs aching, ribs burning,waitingfor a crumb of praise like a schoolgirl hoping to get a gold star.

By the time she was dry and dressed, her legs had stiffened up like concrete. She winced her way to the sofa, phone in hand, and called her agent.

‘Ashley. She doubled it.’

A pause, then Ashley’s voice crackled down the line, maddeningly calm. ‘Doubled what?’