Page 10 of Love Game

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“I hired a naturopath,” Jason said, rocking back on his heels. “She’s like a life coach to help you keep calm. She does meditation, yoga, Reiki…”

“Reiki? What the hell is that?”

Jason coughed suspiciously. “Sports medicine. For your elbow. We want you in top shape for the Open, yes?”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Sports medicine.”

“Don’t knock it until you try it. Many athletes swear by it. The NFL uses it for their players all the time. Look it up.”

“Don’t mind if I do,” I said and pulled my phone out of my back pocket. I Googled Reiki and then barked a laugh. “Really, Jase? You’re trying to strengthen my life force energy?”

“Well, I—”

“You think you can wave a few crystals over my head and I’ll behave on the court. Is that it?”

“Yes,” my agent spat back. “At this point, I’m ready to hire a priest to do an exorcism to get your head out of your ass. I’m at the end of my rope with you, Kai. You’re sitting on a pile of treasure and instead of appreciating what you have, you’re shitting all over it.”

“I play how I want, when I want,” I said, tucking my phone away and picking up a ball. I whacked it at my practice partner who barely got his racket up in time to deflect. “Everyone takes this stupid game too seriously.”

“This ‘stupid game’ pays for your mom’s house. For this house. For your Range Rover and your expensive clothes. When it’s not paying off your fines, that is. You heard the ATP ruling. One more tantrum and you’re going to get kicked out of tennis altogether.”

“So your solution is to hire a witch to hex me?”

“The specialist will be here in a few hours to set up shop in the guest house.”

I rolled my eyes. “Just what I need. A distraction. Some old lady wandering around here, burning sage and chanting…”

Jason looked like he was holding back a smile. “I wouldn’t call her old. Can’t promise there won’t be chanting, though.” His expression turned serious. “Do me this one favor. One favor and I’ll leave you alone to mess up your career however you want.”

“Way to sell it, Jase.”

“Give her a shot. Whatever she says or wants to do for you…just let her. Okay?”

“What is she going to want to do to me? Cast a spell to make me stop swearing?”

“One could only hope,” Jason muttered. “One favor, Kai…”

“Fine,” I said. “I’ll do the Reiki. For my elbow only. No one’s messing with my head. You got me, mate?”

“Of course, of course.” He checked his watch. “I have a plane to catch. Other clients who actually care about their careers are waiting for me.”

I grinned. “Now you’re hurting my feelings.”

“Doubtful. I’ll see you soon.” He reached up as if he were going to pat my cheek, then thought the better of it and walked away. At the gate at the end of the court he stopped and said, “And be nice to her. You remember what nice is, don’t you? It’s the opposite of how you usually are.”

He left, and I bounced a ball on my racket for a minute.

Energy healing? Crikey.

My practice partner for our stay in Hawaii was a guy Jason hired from the country club down in Wailea. A tall, gangly bloke whose name might’ve been Owen. He was scrolling his phone, racket dangling from his hand.

“Oi! Mate!” I called. “You ready, or what?”

Owen jammed his phone in his pocket. “Right. Yes. Ready.”

I went to the baseline to practice my serves. For thirty minutes, I served while Owen tried—and mostly failed—to get the ball back over the net. The experts liked to call my serve untouchable. Magnificent.

Deadly.


Tags: Emma Scott Romance