Page 4

"Great backhand, Andrew," Leah compliments one of the three children she's teaching that afternoon. "Okay, we're done for today. You can keep practicing on this court until your father comes to pick you up, Oliver," she adds, checking her watch.

The three kids always come together, dropped off and picked up by one of their parents, always taking turns. When it's Oliver's father's turn, he's always late, so Leah usually keeps that court free for an extra hour to keep them entertained while they wait.

Leah leaves the kids on the court, wipes the sweat with her towel and peels her shirt away from her back, feeling relief when a gentle breeze passes between her skin and clothes. She takes a couple gulps of water to cool down, picks up her bag and heads toward the main building to find out which court her next class is on. Anne and Natalie, her mothers, wait for her there, along with what she appreciates most on these summer afternoons—the air conditioning.

"Put this on before you catch a cold," says Anne, approaching her with a thin sports jacket that Leah eyes with horror.

"Give me a break, mom, I'm roasting," she says, sitting in one of the padded reception chairs lined up next to the glass wall, directly in front of the air conditioner.

Leah stretches out her bare legs and slouches as if she's about to faint. Natalie lets out a laugh, but Anne doesn't yield, always excessively worried.

"Put it on, I said," she insists, holding the garment in the air.

Leah sighs and takes it from her hands while sitting up to put it on.

"What do I have now?" she asks, approaching the counter where Natalie checks the schedule on the computer screen.

"A new student. Around your age, her name is Emily. Very nice," her mother notes, pushing up her glasses. "She just wants to learn as a hobby. Apparently, she loves tennis but is terrible at it. When she came to sign up, she mentioned she couldn't return a ball without tripping, and if she did, she'd send it flying off the court."

Her mothers laugh with complicity as they remember.

"I don't know if it's true or if she was exaggerating," Anne adds, "but she told it with such humor that it seemed real."

"Nobody can be that bad at playing," Leah says, checking the time on her sports watch. "Where's Mia?"

"In the storage room checking equipment. You know she can't stand doing nothing, and since Oliver's father hasn't arrived, she can't prep the court yet," Natalie replies.

"Fine." Leah takes off the jacket and hands it to her mother. "I'll go find her and we'll go meet this Emily. Which court is it?"

"Six."

Leah exits the building and heads straight to the storage room. She finds Mia sorting out used tennis balls, placing them in a basket that once a month a guy picks up to distribute to various animal shelters for dogs to play with.

"Let's go, Mia. We have a new student. Apparently she's quite a beginner, so bring a couple of rackets just in case. I don't know if she'll bring her own," the coach says.

Mia obeys. She selects a couple from those available for clients and leaves with Leah.

"Which court is it?" Mia also asks.

"Six. My moms say she's pretty bad at playing," Leah says, summarizing what they just told her.

"I don't know if she's bad, but she's definitely punctual," Mia says, pointing to court six as they approach.

Leah looks up and sees her. Emily stands on one side of the court holding the racket in one hand while bouncing the ball with the other. She has blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail, is tall with pronounced curves, and although she doesn't appear to be in shape, her overall figure is striking because she radiates positive energy that's visible from a distance.

She seems about to serve, but when she raises her racket to hit the ball, the last bounce against the ground hits her shoe and the ball rolls flat across the court as Emily watches in disbelief, drops her racket, and sighs while chasing after it. Mia lets out a soft laugh and Leah holds back her laughter as they continue approaching.

Emily reaches the ball and steps on it to stop it, but instead of bending down to pick it up, she decides to tap it with her racket as she's seen many people do, making the ball bounce until she can catch it with her hand.

"Is she trying to murder it?" Mia says, unable to stop laughing.

Leah elbows her, but a chuckle escapes as they stop right at the court entrance. Emily persists and the ball seems about to rise, so she delivers another hit. When she gathers momentum for the next swing, she lifts the racket too high and it smacks her in the face, causing her to yelp in pain and fall on her butt.

"Damn, she really is bad," Mia blurts out as Leah stares in disbelief, still processing what just happened.

She drops her bag and runs into the court, crouching next to Emily.

"Are you okay?" she asks, placing a hand on her shoulder.

Emily raises her head and removes her hands from her face. Leah's eyes widen when she sees Emily's face covered in blood. She saw the direct hit but didn't think it was that hard.

"Wow, you've busted your nose," she says and gestures to Mia. "Bring me a clean towel from the bag. Are you dizzy?" she asks while Emily examines her hands.

"I'm fine, but my eyes are watering," Emily laments, blinking. "It hurts..."

Leah can't help smiling as she takes the towel and carefully wipes away the blood.

"It doesn't look serious. Let's go to the first aid room. I'll clean you up and put some cotton in to stop the bleeding."

"What about the training?" Emily asks as Leah and Mia help her stand up.

"I'm afraid we'll have to skip it today. You can't train like this," Leah says and watches Emily's expression transform into a disappointed grimace that seems to hurt her more than the blow.

She walks with Emily to the first aid room while Mia cleans up the blood from the court and prepares it for the next class. Emily sits in a chair and lets Leah clean her with a damp towel and insert the cotton.

"That's it," the coach says. "Does it hurt a lot? I can get you some ice."

"No, it's fine, thanks," Emily says. "I think we can still train."

Leah raises an eyebrow, amused as she observes Emily with her light blue polo shirt covered in blood stains, her skirt dirty, cotton in her red and slightly swollen nose, and her tearful eyes.

"Let's get something at the bar instead. It'll be good for you to sit for a while, and I have time until my next class. I'm Leah, by the way," she says, extending her hand.

Emily looks at her for the first time. Until now, she's barely noticed her because embarrassment prevented it, but now that they're here face to face, she doesn't hesitate to give her a quick once-over while shaking her hand. Her toned body and tanned skin immediately catch her attention. She also likes her serene expression amid the brown strands escaping from what she's sure was once a perfect ponytail, but what strikes her most is the way Leah looks at her, as if she doesn't care that Emily's a klutz unable to bounce a ball. Leah doesn't judge her, and although Emily cares very little about what others think of her, she's had to get used to always being the target of laughter and jokes, and appreciates not being Leah's.

"Sounds good," she accepts and stands up smiling.

Leah startles at Emily's sudden movement, fearing she might get dizzy, but the lawyer brushes off her skirt and stands tall as if nothing happened, making Leah smile with fascination.

"Have you been working here as a coach for long?" Emily asks as soon as they sit at one of the terrace tables, under a huge umbrella that protects them from the sun and allows the breeze to cool them.

Leah looks at her, surprised. Although she's a very humble woman, she's used to most people who come to her club recognizing her or even signing up just to meet her in person, but Emily clearly has no idea who she is, and she likes that. She loves being able to present herself to someone as just Leah, not as the accomplished tennis player.

"About three years," the tennis player responds.

Emily leans forward while looking around, and Leah gets the feeling she's about to confess some secret.

"You must earn a good salary with the outrageous membership fee they charge monthly," she says with a little laugh.

Leah catches the humor. Emily seems like the most transparent person she's ever met.

"Well, I can't complain," she says simply. "And you? What do you do?"

"I'm a lawyer. I work at my family's firm, and obviously, I'm much better at that than playing sports," she says with an almost arrogant smile and confidence that fascinates Leah with each new detail she discovers about Emily. "Give me a well-pressed suit and a solid case, and I swear I feel like Roger Federer with a racket in his hand. Precise, unbeatable, and ready to send my opponent across the court with a perfect backhand."

Leah lets out a low whistle that makes Emily laugh and suddenly blush.

"Well, I hope you won't sue the club after that racket hit," Leah says, pointing to her nose while leaning forward.

Emily lets out a small laugh, so genuine that Leah wonders if the woman before her is real or a mirage created to give her some of the most interesting minutes of her life.

"If I had to file lawsuits against every place where my butt has kissed the ground without my permission, the entire county would be bankrupt, and I'd be drinking daiquiris on a private beach, funded by settlements for slips and falls caused by my clumsiness. Though I'm so good at convincing juries, they'd end up believing that in each and every place, there was an oil slick that made me slip."

Leah can't stop laughing. She reclines in her chair while staring at Emily who, infected by what she finds to be musical laughter, gets encouraged and continues exaggerating until Mia feels obliged to interrupt them.

"Sorry, but Alison is waiting for you on court five," she says, looking at Leah.

The tennis player checks the time on her watch and is astonished to realize how quickly time has flown by with Emily.

"Tell her I'll be right there, Mia. Thanks."

"Okay."

"I have to leave you," Leah says, standing up. "Are you feeling well enough to go home? I can ask Mia to drive you."

"Don't worry, I'm perfectly fine," Emily thanks her with a smile as she stands up. "So, we'll see each other at the next class? I promise not to touch the racket until you arrive."

Leah smiles again and says goodbye with a wave of her hand as Emily watches her walk away, thinking she could spend the entire day joking around if it means continuing to see that smile.