The Singles Game
Page 92

‘Not the time for this …’ Charlie knew she wouldn’t keep anything from Piper, but it certainly wasn’t a conversation she was ready to have in front of Dan.
‘I’m, uh, going to head to the site in a few. I just stopped by to, um, see if you wanted me to take anything. Your racket bag?’
With this, Piper began laughing. ‘Her racket bag? You two are adorable, you really are. Whatever is going on here isn’t my business. At least, not until later tonight, when we’re all toasting a US Open win or drowning a loss in rivers of vodka – and, yes, you are having a drink one way or another, Charlie. Then I will want every sordid detail. But until then, suffice it to say, I think you two look adorable together.’
‘Piper …’ Charlie warned with a stern look.
‘Thanks?’ Dan said. He turned to Charlie, who realized she wasn’t the least bit self-conscious standing there in a bathrobe with wet hair. ‘Do you want me to wait for you or meet you there?’
Charlie turned her face to him and looked directly into his eyes. How had she never noticed their unusual shade of gray before? Or the way he read a book, a real, actual book printed on old-school paper, during every meal he ate alone? Or the way he cracked his knuckles when he was nervous but stopped the moment he noticed someone watching him?
From her tiptoes, Charlie pressed her lips against his. ‘Go ahead. I’m here for another hour and then I’m supposed to meet Marcy in player dining. I’ll text you when I’m on my way.’
He nodded, kissed her again, waved to Piper, who was busy feigning indifference to the whole scene on the couch, and left. Charlie couldn’t help but smile. Months ago she was skulking around, desperate for Marco’s erratic attention. She marveled at how surprised Marco had been when she ended it. He, like Todd, had shown her she was making exactly the right decision.
Charlie looked at Piper but said nothing.
‘What?’ Piper shrugged. ‘You think this is remotely surprising? It was a matter of when, not if.’
‘Oh, come on!’ Charlie said. She sat down next to Piper and pulled a pillow into her stomach.
‘You and Dan? Please. Anyone with two eyes could’ve seen that one coming.’
‘Am I really that predictable?’
‘Yes.’
‘Thanks.’
‘Charlie! A little self-awareness, please. Marco Vallejo? Zeke Leighton? Not what I – or anyone else – would exactly describe as boyfriend material. But doe-eyed Dan with the puritanical work ethic? Who also happens to be tall, kind, and very cute? He’s a no-brainer.’
‘We’re taking it slow,’ Charlie said, forking a piece of honeydew from a bowl of fruit salad.
‘How slow?’
‘Exceedingly.’
Piper tilted her head. ‘You haven’t slept with him yet?’
‘Yes.’
‘Yes, you’re telling me that, or yes, of course you have?’
‘We just both think it’s better not to rush into anything. We acknowledge we’re … I don’t know … into each other. We just don’t need to dive into bed yet.’
‘Really.’
‘It’s not like it’s been so long. A month. We didn’t even kiss for the first time until Toronto. Four weeks ago. Things progressed a little in Cincinnati, a little bit more in New Haven, and now here we are.’
‘So where does that get you now? Second base? Third?’
Charlie gave Piper the finger. ‘Laugh all you want. You’re married now and destined to a life of sexless boredom forever and ever. At least I have something to look forward to.’
‘Fair point.’
Charlie took a sip of her fully caffeinated coffee – the very first change she instituted after firing Todd – and said, ‘He’s a pretty great guy, P. Smart, loyal, kind, the whole nine. But you know the best part? Things are just easy when I’m with him. He has a way of boiling the most complicated things down to what really matters. No games, no drama, no Is he going to text me? Does he like me? bullshit. It’s really refreshing.’
‘Sounds it. I’m happy for you, Charlie. You deserve to date a non-asshole.’
‘I’m blushing.’ Charlie checked her phone and saw the time. ‘I have to run. We have a very abbreviated practice today, but I’m meeting with Marcy beforehand.’
Piper stood up and slung her enormous bag back over her shoulder. ‘I hope you’re going to grovel, plead, beg, and bribe her to coach you again?’
‘That about sums it up.’
The two women hugged. Piper took both of Charlie’s hands in her own and said, ‘Kick some ass tonight, Silver. It’s about f’ing time you won one of these things.’
Charlie placed her racket bag at a table near the windows, which offered an expansive view onto the stretch of empty practice courts. The hundreds of players who’d already been knocked out in the earlier rounds had left Flushing Meadows. Some took a break and went home; others traveled to wherever their coaches were based for a few days’ intensive work; still others trudged on to the next tournament in preparation for the grueling Asian swing of the tour, the final stretch before they had six or eight weeks off at the end of the year. Everyone who wasn’t injured or retired would begin again in January in Australia. And although there had been weeks this summer when Charlie thought she might not be among them, she had decided that no matter what happened in this final match, she wanted to give herself one more year.
Player dining, like everywhere else at the Open that day, was nearly empty. Normally it bustled with players and their entourages of managers, coaches, hitting partners, agents, families, and friends. The flat screens hanging from the ceiling usually showed all the live matches happening around the site while mothers and nannies chased young children around the tables, plying them with chocolate milk and cheddar bunnies. You couldn’t walk two feet without hearing at least three languages. Everywhere people jostled for space and called to each other in Spanish, Croatian, Serbian, German, Chinese, Russian, French, and every imaginable accent in the English language. People were busy typing into laptops or iPhones as all sorts of business deals were negotiated and schedules were tweaked and travel plans were booked, canceled, and booked again. She loved the energy of player dining – especially at a Slam – knowing that after so many years on the circuit, she could walk over to pretty much any table and recognize at least a dozen people. But today it was unnerving to see it so quiet.