“Then why are you here? You already know the answer.” Alina stopped and turned to face Tova.
The corridor was an artery for the Australian Open. Players moved swiftly to and from the locker rooms. Coaches, tournament officials, and umpires hurried to wherever they had to go. Nerves prickled Alina’s skin. What would Tova say in response? What was it about her that unsettled her so?
“I want to get to know you. I want to write an article that shows the real you, not the superficial version that is trotted out for the press.” Tova’s voice was steady. There wasn’t the urgent demand Alina heard from other sports writers.
“Most journalists say that.” She should keep walking to the locker room where surely Tova couldn’t follow, but something kept her feet rooted to the floor.
“Consider it a chance to say what you want to say. Maybe, what you need to say. I report honestly, Alina. I don’t sensationalise.” Her gaze skewered Alina, so that her skin prickled. “Here’s my card.” Tova pressed the rectangle into Alina’s hand. “Check my articles on the internet. You might be interested in my interview with Andy Murray on his life after surgery. Or Viva Jones about the reasons for her retirement. Talk to Viva if you wish. She’s here, commentating for Tennis Australia. Then, if you want, call me. I hope you do.”
Alina watched Tova’s lithe figure stride down the corridor in the direction of the café. Her fingers clenched on the card in her hand. She wouldn’t call. Women like Tova were dangerous.
She slipped the card into the outside pocket of her tennis bag.
“I don’t know what I’m doing here.”
Across the table, Tova sat silently. A half-smile graced her face, and she turned the coffee mug around in her hand to cup it.
“My agent says you’re dangerous. That you get people to say what they shouldn’t. He told me to stay away from you.” Alina heaved a breath. “I read your articles. They are excellent. You humanised Serena, whereas so many interviewers make her out to be some sort of machine.”
“Did you talk to Viva?” Tova moved her own mug a few centimetres across the table into Alina’s space.
“No. Viva and I never got on that well. As you pointed out, I don’t have friends on tour. I read the article though. It was well done.”
“Viva is a good person. Her decision to retire was made with difficulty, at some personal cost. Yes, her wrist injury was pushing her towards retirement, but her relationship with Gabriela Mendaro, a tennis official, was the deciding factor. It was, at its roots, a case of choosing love over career. That was the human angle I wanted to emphasise.”
Alina closed her eyes and pushed down the twist of shame. Viva had followed her heart. Wasn’t that what everyone should do? Except me. Never me.
“Let me shadow you for the next few days. We’ll talk, yes, but I won’t interrupt your routine. Then I’ll write my article. You’ll have the right to veto anything you don’t agree with.”
“Do people veto much?”
“Serena vetoed a couple of things about her daughter. Andy didn’t like how I talked about his potty mouth. Viva vetoed nothing.” Tova watched her closely.
It was like being pinned by a searchlight. Alina heaved a breath. She wasn’t sure what was pushing her this way, why she was going against the advice of her agent, but something deep and visceral was telling her she could trust Tova. That this was something that she needed to do.
“I’ll do it.” Anxiety twisted deep in her belly. This is a mistake.
Tova nodded as if she hadn’t expected anything different. “Can we start tomorrow? What’s your routine?”
“I’ll be at the gym at six. A light breakfast. Then I’ll work with Anatoly until lunch. Later I’ll work with my fitness trainer.”
“The tennis centre gym?”
Alina nodded.
“I’ll meet you there.” Tova hesitated, then laid a hand on Alina’s arm. “Thank you for agreeing. I hope to get to know you a lot better.”
The light touch of Tova’s hand seemed to radiate fire. Danger! But despite the alarm bells clanging in Alina’s mind, Tova’s smile seemed sincere. Genuine. It wasn’t the fake, practised expression that she saw in so many people who wanted a piece of her.
“Six.” Alina finished her mineral water and stood. With a nod at Tova, she turned and left the café. She wouldn’t think about it now. Right now, her