Page 7 of Serve (Men of Hidden Creek Season 1, #5)

Chapter Seven

Tyler

“Oh God, I forgot about your aunt. She’s here to do a few things for me today. You can either try sneaking out, or you can face the music. I doubt she’ll give you a hard time about it.” Tyler said. They could both hear her whistling as she worked in the kitchen.

“Maybe I’ll get lucky and she won’t notice anything. She is getting up there in years.” Chip said wistfully.

“Dixie notices everything. You should know that better than anyone. Oh, and I doubt she missed your truck in the driveway.” Tyler said, holding the bedroom door open. They headed straight for the living room as quietly as they could. Dixie ambushed them as soon as they got there.

“Good morning, sunshine. What the hell are you doing here so early?” Aunt Dixie said to a blushing Chip.

She placed a hand on his chin and lifted his face.

She took a hard, long look into his eyes and smiled.

“Say no more. You know what, Tyler? You’ve got great taste in men.

Want some coffee?” She hustled back to the kitchen, leaving both men speechless.

Tyler gazed at Chip, who somehow turned an even deeper shade of red.

“Dixie’s priceless. It runs in the family, huh?

” He winked at the younger man, then checked his phone for messages.

Several were from Sania, who seemed frantic.

He’d neglected to answer her texts last night, so he tapped out a message letting her know he’d be at the hotel at eleven.

“I wish I could stay here all morning, but I have to meet with my agent.”

Dixie emerged with the pot and poured the two of them a cup each. Her eyes were red, as if she’d been crying. Tyler looked at Chip, who hung his head, a guilty look on his face.

“Dixie, you know you mean the world to me, and if I’ve hurt you by being with…” Tyler began, but was interrupted with a teary chuckle from her.

“Tyler, it took me and Sue years to find each other. Seeing the two of you happy is…” She put the pot of coffee on the table and swiped at her eyes. “Ignore this silly old woman.”

She picked the pot back up and started to leave when Chip spoke.

“Aunt Dixie, can I get a to-go cup? I’ve got to be at work in a couple of hours, and I’m trying to get there a few minutes early.

Seems I have a problem getting anywhere on time.

” His face was still red, but now his eyes were a tad moist, too.

“No problem. Be right back.” She took his cup and hustled into the kitchen. As soon as the door closed, Chip crossed over to Tyler. He leaned down and kissed him, running his fingers through his thick, blond hair.

“Thank you for last night.” Tyler whispered. “Will I be seeing you again soon?”

“You’ll have a hard time keeping me away.” Chip said.

“You want to learn how to play tennis? I need to get back on the court, and teaching you would help me get my focus back.”

“I’d love to.” He kissed him full on the lips, then backed away when he heard footsteps.

Dixie emerged with a thermos and a knowing look in her eye.

“Will you just kiss him goodbye and get out of here. Damn, now I have to see my nephew being mushy with my boss.” She shook her head in mock disgust.

“I’ll swing by after work.” He waved his fingers at his aunt, then leaned in and kissed Tyler on the cheek.

Once she heard the front door shut, Dixie spoke again. “Well, you know if you hurt him you’ve got to answer to me?” She stood in front of him, hands on her hips.

“I would never hurt him, I swear.” Tyler blushed and took a sip of his coffee. “Plus, this is new, and we don’t know where it will go.”

“Just understand, I’ve got to say the exact same thing to him, too. This is either going to be fantastic, or an utter disaster.” She shook her head and went back to the kitchen.

“I was in a car accident, which has been investigated by the police, and I’ve been cleared of any wrong-doing.

I swerved to avoid hitting a dog and ran into a picnic shelter in Moore Wood Park.

As a result, I had a very mild concussion, and my ribs were bruised thanks to the air-bag.

It’s that simple, ladies and gentlemen, just a simple accident.

” Tyler stated to the reporters. They were both his friends and his enemies.

Many of them he’d come to know well over the years, and mostly they were okay people.

Despite the casual friendships he’d cultivated with a few of them, he never forgot the most important thing. They could destroy his career.

“Are you retiring from tennis?” Steve from the Cable Sports Network asked. The one thing Tyler enjoyed about reporters was how direct they were. He took a deep breath, and proceeded to make the announcement. He’d only told Sania of his decision this morning, much to her relief.

“I will return to competition soon. I’ve got my sights set on the one slam I’ve not won before, Wimbledon.” He leaned back in his chair, pleased to see a few smiles at his decision.

“Why do you think you’ve never won Wimbledon before?” A reporter shouted, much louder than necessary.

“Because, I’m not very good on grass?” He laughed.

The court at Wimbledon was grass, and it was a surface best suited for an attacking game.

He excelled at defense, playing at the baseline near the back of the court.

Those two styles were diametrically opposed, and few athletes could play both ways.

The reporters laughed along with him, then he answered the question more seriously.

“Grass is better for attacking players, who can serve and volley at the net. As all of you know, I grew up on the hard courts, which favors a distinct style of tennis. I learned to love clay courts, so I don’t see why I can’t make grass my bitch too.

” The reporters gasped at his language. He should have toned his words down, but he meant business.

“Have you hired a new coach yet?”

“I’m looking at a few prospects. My primary focus is Wimbledon, and achieving a career grand slam.

It’s the only tournament I need to win to achieve it, so I’ll be looking at coaches with success there.

” Now that he’d answered the primary questions, he signaled Sania with his eyes that they should wrap things up.

The journalists would start asking stupid questions just to keep him talking, and his patience for that was slim to none. Sania walked in front of him and spoke.

“Folks, thanks for coming to our press conference. Please help yourself to the food and drinks in the back of the room.” Sania announced.

“That went well. Thanks Sania. Sorry I was such a pain in the ass yesterday.” He hugged her, then they sat down. He smelled smoke in her hair, and wanted to say something, but thought better of it. He’d come up to her hotel room to discuss strategy, not her bad habits.

“Well, the reporters asked a question I wanted answered. Who do you want for a coach?” She asked. Tyler looked to the ceiling, embarrassed to admit his choice.

“Scott. I know he left on bad terms, but I want Scott back.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. After the way he treated you, you want him back on your team?” Sania shook her head in wonder. She was a tough woman. It was unusual for her to be flustered, but this was beyond belief.

“He’s an asshole, I know, but I won all of my slams with him in my corner.

” He stood up and paced the floor. Scott Turner was his former coach.

He’d abandoned him after an embarrassing incident at a hotel in South America, right after a tournament.

Now he was coaching a much younger player who seemed on the verge of establishing a successful career.

Sania bit her lip, then scribbled a few notes on hotel stationery. He could tell she was thinking of ways to talk him out of this. Couldn’t blame her; it was her job to protect him.

“Let’s call him right now.”

It was Tyler’s turn to be surprised.

“You really want to? Right now?”

She didn’t bother to answer. Instead, she whipped out her phone and made the call.

Tyler’s heart raced. He’d never confronted Scott about his leaving.

In fact, they hadn’t spoken since he’d left.

The way he’d quit was a sore point for him.

He'd announced it to the press, instead of discussing it with him. He claimed Tyler was on the verge of retiring, because he was a loser. He’d never forget reading those words, but he was afraid of changing things.

He and Scott, despite their differences, were a winning team for so many years.

He wanted that magic back, even if it meant putting up with his homophobia.

“Scott, this is Sania. How’s it going?” She held the phone away from her and put it on speaker. She placed her finger over her lips, hoping Tyler would stay silent.

“Great. I’m busy. What do you want?” His answer was brusque, like he was speaking to a telemarketer. Tyler was surprised he’d answered at all. He and Sania had a mutual loathing for one another.

“We’re interested in bringing you back on the team. What can we offer that will make you say yes?” She got right to the point.

“Well, maybe one hundred percent of Tyler’s earnings, since they won’t be much. He’s on a losing streak, been on one for a long time. Nothing I can do to help him. He’s a loser. Why the hell are you sticking with him? You’re a smart woman. Don’t tell me you can’t see which way the wind is blowing?”

Tyler shut his eyes and fell back on the couch. Maybe he needed to hear this? Was this why Sania had called him up so quickly after he suggested it?

“I’m on Tyler’s team, because he’s a winner. We just held a press conference. He will be back on tour soon, with you or without you.” Her eyes never left Tyler, reading his reactions.

“Well, give him a message for me. I’m through dealing with him.

I don’t care how much money he offers, the answer is no.

I’ve got a great pupil now. You’ve heard of Travis Johnson?

He’s won his last two tournaments, and is breaking into the top fifty as of next week.

I’d be crazy to let him go in favor of a thirty-year-old has-been who’s lost the last two slams.”

“Thanks for your time, Scott.” Sania disconnected the call before he said anything else. She reached her hand into her pocket, then pulled it out and placed it on her hip. He spied the square shape of a cigarette pack through the fabric.

“I’m sorry, Tyler.” She murmured, then grabbed her pen and scratched through her notes.

“No, don’t be. I needed to know where I stood. He’s obviously not open to working with me.” He stood and started pacing again. He had no idea what the hell he’d ever done to Scott to make him so resentful.

They both spoke at the same time.

“Why…”

“He’s…”

“Sania, sorry, go ahead. What were you going to say?”

“Why is he so angry with you?” She asked.

“I don’t know. I have my suspicions, but does it really matter? Now you know that he’s not willing to be on our team. In fact, I’d say it’s for the best.” His voice was soft, resigned.

She stood beside him and took his hand. Usually she was all business, so it surprised him.

“I believe in you, not just as a tennis player, but as a person. I really meant it when I told you I’d support you no matter what you decided.

Your days of being a winner are far from over.

You’re one of the few players who’s never had a serious injury, and you take excellent care of yourself.

Thirty is the new twenty, and I think you have a lot more winning to do before you hang up your racket.

” She smiled, let go of his hand, and walked over to the mini-bar. “Want a beer?”

“Definitely.”

“I’m putting together a list of candidates, and I’ll get back to you ASAP about them.

” Sania said. They’d gone back and forth about coaching options.

For Tyler, compatibility was the most important thing.

He needed to get along well with his coach.

Problem was, since he’d spent most of his career hiding in the closet, he was more standoffish than most players.

He’d never made many friends on tour, and his list of coaching candidates was slim.

Sania focused on results. She wanted him to achieve his dream of completing a career grand slam.

To do that, you had to win all four major tournaments over the course of your career.

He’d won two U.S. Opens, a French Open title, and one at the Australian Open.

The only major he’d not conquered was Wimbledon.

This tournament was played on grass, a quick surface that didn’t favor his style of play.

She knew the only way he’d hoist that particular trophy was to retool his defensive, baseline-oriented style into an attacking game played at the net.

He was also older, and playing an attacking game would shorten points.

Winning matches quickly was important and would extend his career.

“Thanks for everything, Sania, including putting Scott on speaker. I needed to hear that.” He felt reassured, knowing she was on his side. He hugged her and made for the door.

“Hey, call me if you need anything. In fact, call me even if you don’t. We have a lot of work to do to get you back on tour, and little time to do it. Take care.”

He shut the door, then pulled his phone out. It buzzed in his pocket a few minutes ago, and he was hoping it was Chip. He was surprised to see Scott’s name. He opened the message, and his fragile sense of security departed.

You ever play against Travis you’d better lose, or the whole world will know your filthy secret