Chapter Twenty-Four

The opening of Wimbledon kept Mercedes and Faith spending a lot of time together on the weekdays keeping track of Dante and Max. Max and Faith had begun a long-distance friendship by phone and had made plans to see one another during the U.S. Open.

Mercedes spent a lot of time at Townsend Publishing working in Faith’s office and following Dante’s challenges on the large flat screen TV, through the round of sixteen, quarterfinals and especially the semifinals after he lost the first two sets, but miraculously came back and won the next three sets and the match.

That evening Faith received a frantic call from Max. “I don’t know what happened, Faith, when I arrived in London Dante seemed rested and happy and even excited about the tournament, but as each day passed, he became more and more disheartened. I don’t know what to do. The tournament will be over soon and he will be able to take some time to rest, but I’m concerned about now.”

“What do you think is wrong with him?”

“My sister. He has fallen deeply and madly in love and can’t seem to concentrate or think of anything except Mercedes. He misses her, and he simply can’t wait for the tournament to end. She is all he talks about and he can’t wait to be with her.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Maybe if you can figure out how to get her here. Tomorrow the women’s single finals and double matches will be held, which gives us an extra day. Being able to book a flight and find a place to stay is the problem. I’m not sure my staff would have much success. This town is loaded with tennis enthusiasts and regular summer tourists to boot.”

“I can help, Max. Give me a couple of hours and I’ll call you back. If you don’t mind getting woken up in the middle of the night?”

“Anything you can possibly do, Faith, I know Dante will thank you. I hate to see him lose and give up his lifelong dream of winning all four grand championships in one year. The U.S. Open is the only one he has never won, and up until this last match, I thought winning Wimbledon again was in the bag. Now I’m not too sure.”

“If I can reach my dad, and have him make a few phone calls, I might have a solution.”

“I think I was already interested in falling in love with you, now I’m sure you’re the one.”

“Wait a few hours before you make up your mind,” Faith said laughing. “I have a lot to do. Are you sure I won’t wake up Dante, or are you in a separate room.”

“I’m next door, but we have connecting rooms. However, his coach is staying with him tonight because he’s worried Dante might withdraw from the tournament, and I’ve locked the connecting door.”

“Perfect.” They said a quick goodbye, and Faith called her father.

****

When Mercedes’ intercom buzzed late that evening, she jumped then released a deep sigh. She had been franticly pacing her apartment, waiting for Dante or Max to call her after the scare of watching Dante nearly lose his semifinal match and seemed to be in a quandary as to whether she should risk calling them. She smiled now, thinking Dante had sent something by special delivery. Instead, she heard Faith’s voice. “I need to see you.”

“Come on up,” she said, hurrying to the door. She waited in the hallway for Faith. When the elevator door opened, she asked, “What’s wrong?”

“You. Get dressed while I pack your bag, we’re going to London.”

“Are you crazy?”

“No. You are. You’re crazy for what you’ve done to Dante.”

“What did I do?”

“You fell in love. Max called and thinks Dante may drop out of the finals, but if he doesn’t, he’s certain he’ll probably lose. You have to come with me to London. I’ll explain details later.”

“This is insane, Faith. How will we ever make plans to get there on time?”

“I’ve already taken care of that—Townsend Publishing has a private jet waiting for us. We have to be at the airport by midnight. I’ve already spoken to Max, but he’s not going to tell Dante you’re coming. He wants you on standby in case he needs you to come sit in the box at the tournament. He will have passes waiting for us at the hotel desk.”

“How did you do all this?”

“My father made the arrangements. Since the Townsend Corporation publishes in London, they also keep a suite at a hotel in the city, which is not currently occupied. Where’s your suitcase?”

“In storage.”

“Great, call downstairs and ask Harold or whatever your live-in manager’s name is and ask him to escort me to the basement storage to get you a suitcase and you’d better be dressed by the time I come back,” she ordered, as Mercedes handed her the key.

Mercedes couldn’t believe how fast they had thrown clothes together. She wore a comfortable three-piece jogging outfit for travel, packed her computer and her important work papers, in case she ran into an emergency while she was gone, rushed out of the building and couldn’t believe Faith had the company limo waiting for them. As soon as she was settled in the backseat, which she eyed in case Dante was serious about making love in the back of his limo, she called her folks and told them she was on her way to Wimbledon.

Mercedes and Faith did their best to relax on the flight to England. Everything they could possibly discuss had been hashed over and over again until they were comfortable about how the plan would work.

Faith spent time explaining what Max had told her about Dante’s psychological processes falling in love with her had presented, and how his career alone kept the media hounding him for interviews to discuss how he dealt with the pressure of attempting to win all four majors in one year. “Two down, two to go. Then there’s the constant question about whether or not he thought he could be the number one tennis player in the world.

“Dealing with that alone has to be stressful, Mercedes. Then he met and fell in love with you and that presented a greater problem for him emotionally. Give up tennis or you. Max said Dante talked to him about abandoning his career for you, yet he still seemed concerned because that didn’t necessarily mean he’d no longer be a celebrity. The two of you would be hounded and he feared you’d end the relationship in order to return to your life of peace and quiet.”

With those words on her mind, Mercedes stared out the window of the plane until the Atlantic Ocean began to frighten her with the possibility of crashing in the middle of the ocean. She said silent prayers yet remained skittish flying across the ocean in a small private jet, especially without Dante next to her for comfort and security.

She gave serious thought to the fact that becoming the number one tennis player in the world, and most likely winning all four grand slams, would keep Dante at number one for quite some time, and with that achievement came the publicity seekers.

Taking a look at Faith who seemed occupied reading a book, Mercedes sighed. The one thing she remained certain about was her love for Dante. Even if she wanted to maintain her lifestyle in her private world, she’d be an idiot to risk losing the love of her life.

When she watched the tennis matches on TV, she took notice of how often the cameras focused on the wives and girlfriends of the male players. Not many of them were married, only a few. And, to her surprise, the girlfriends remained composed, smiled when their boyfriend won a game, set or match, but weren’t overly conspicuous, nor did they make fretful faces when things weren’t going well. She wasn’t certain she’d be able to control her emotions.

She assured herself that she could overcome her complexes and follow her heart that ached during their separations. Phone calls and bouquets of flowers didn’t quite satisfy her longing for him. She smiled and decided that she’d no longer live in the shadows. She closed her eyes and sighed. Soon. Soon they’d be together and she felt wonderful since she put him on her radar screen. All she had to do was to be there to help him through Wimbledon, now that she understood his love.

****

When they landed in London, Faith’s dad made arrangements for them to be met at the baggage claim by one of the British employees. Another limo—Mercedes shut her eyes and shook her head. Who couldn’t get used to this treatment?

The older, yet distinguished hotel located near Wimbledon, from the outside didn’t look large, but the remodeled spacious lobby, furnished in eighteenth century décor with twentieth century replica pieces and huge flower arrangements, soft lighting and two small elevators with mirrored doors looked classic and inviting.

The concierge handed them a large envelope when they checked in containing British currency, room keys and passes for the tennis tournament and Dante’s player box, along with a note from Max.

When the door of the suite opened, Mercedes gasped. “Why didn’t you tell me about this lovely place, Faith?”

“I wanted you to be surprised. I kept begging you to accompany me on my London trips.”

“I’ll have to rethink my answer next time.”

The large living area, decorated with overstuffed sofas covered with white slipcovers and bright print colored pillows strewn everywhere invited one to sit and relax. Ornamental large brass lamps sat on the end tables and the coffee table held neatly arranged current magazines with colorful eye-catching covers that Townsend published.

A round dining table and six chairs filled one corner of the room with a bar and a copper sink against one wall—wine and liquor bottles sat on glass shelves above a small refrigerator that Mercedes opened and found full of sodas and juices and bottled water. One cabinet was stocked with snacks.

Faith opened the drapes and shouted, “Ta, da!”

“Oh, what a lovely view.”

“There are two bedrooms and two baths. Choose—door number one or door number two,” she joked, hurrying to open the door for the bellman delivering their luggage.

Mercedes opened one bedroom door and said, “I’ll keep this one, even if the other one is more beautiful. This is heaven. Guess we need to eat and get ready to meet with Max, but this large down comforter awaits my body.”

“Here,” Faith said, wheeling her luggage to her. “There’s a nice restaurant connected to the hotel. We should order room service and shower while we’re waiting for the food to arrive. We need to be ready the minute Max calls. His message said he wouldn’t have a lot time to finalize our plans. He’d be able to have brunch with us while Dante and his coach have a practice session.”

****

An hour later, when someone knocked on the door to the suite, Mercedes called hesitantly, “Max?”

“You were expecting Kate Middleton?”

“Maybe,” she teased, opening the door. “Wasn’t sure if it was you or room service.”

They hugged, and he asked, “How was your trip? Did everything go well?”

“Seems between Faith and Dante, I’ve been given a bird’s eye peek into the world of luxury and convenience. She’ll be out in a minute. We were tired and wanted to shower and freshen up when we arrived.”

“I offered you a job. I keep telling you this is the life, not to mention the traveling, phone calls, press conferences, meals on the run,” he kidded, “packing and unpacking are included among the benefits.”

“Right. I get the message! How is Dante?”

“Hyper. You’re all he talks about and this is not good for his career. However, he has vowed to do his best during the finals tomorrow, and said he will resign from the tour at the end of the year, maybe sooner, depending on you—whatever that means.”

“What do you think I should do now that I’m here?”

“Well, Dante will already be inside the tennis club when you arrive tomorrow. He’s giving a short press conference earlier in the day. He looks great and sounds confident, but his insides are a bundle of nerves. I don’t want you to come until right before the match begins because I don’t want him to get a hint that you’re here. I’m afraid you are all he’ll think about and won’t be able to concentrate once he sees you.

“Then, I will buzz you when I think it’s safe for you to come and stand in the archway near his player box and the minute he seems to be in trouble, I’ll signal for you to come and sit with me. His coach and his trainer are aware that you’re here, and agree this is the best way. Your attendance at that point should spurn him into wanting to win in order to be with you. I look forward to spending time with you and Faith after the tournament tomorrow.”

“Hmm, what do you know—at least I fixed you up with someone pretty, intelligent, and classy, compared to some of the boys you used to introduce me to…”

“All right, don’t get carried away. I hope I’ve covered everything, Mercedes. Are you sure you’re all right?”

“Yes. I’m overwhelmed and overjoyed. I cannot wait until tomorrow.”

“Thanks. Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

Mercedes, Faith, and Max sat in the hotel suite and enjoyed a pleasant meal together before he had to leave.

Max didn’t have a lot of time left before he would join Dante and his entourage, which included his parents. They planned an early supper, after the women’s finals, and Dante would have a massage afterward and they’d turn in early, relax and get a good night’s sleep, if all went well.

“As much as I hate to recommend this, I believe you two need to stay in your suite until tomorrow when you leave for Wimbledon. I’m sure it would be a rare occasion, but we can’t risk someone recognizing you.”

“Don’t worry about us,” Faith said. “I come here often enough and can order dinner from the restaurant later this evening and Mercedes can keep out of sight when the food arrives. Besides, we’re both tired and will enjoy an early evening, maybe rent a movie on the telly after dinner,” she said with her imitation English accent.

Mercedes hugged her brother and excused herself. “I’ll let you two be alone together for a few minutes to say goodbye,” she said, disappearing into her room.