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Post by Annie on Jun 28, 2006 9:08:04 GMT 3
Hate at First Sight by Addie Chapter 1 Step by agonizing step, Alexis walked up the stairs of her ten story, walk up apartment with a heavy bag of groceries. The day at work had been stressful, tiring, and almost painful in her favorite pair of Jimmy Choo heels; but everyday at the New York Times was like that. Since she had graduated from Columbia University a year ago, Alexis had worked at the NY Times as a field reporter. After shuffling around the subways of New York City following a lead all day, Alexis had decided to surprise her boyfriend with a romantic dinner in their cramped, one-bedroom apartment. Switching the weight of the grocery bag to her left hip, Alexis unlocked the door into the living room. As she passed by the coffee table to go to the kitchen, Alexis noticed Bryan’s textbooks from medical school sprawled on the surface. Smiling to herself, Alexis unpacked the groceries and put them neatly away in the cupboards and the refrigerator. Bryan had been Alexis’ first boyfriend and the only man she had ever truly trusted. They had met while attending a Columbia University soccer match. Their love for soccer was what drew them to each other, but their love for each other was what kept them together. “Bryan,” Alexis called from the kitchen as she sat down at the table. Removing her black slingbacks, Alexis waited for Bryan to come into the kitchen but he never did. “Bryan, did you hear me? I’m home.” Walking across the scratched hardwood floors to their bedroom, Alexis opened the door expecting to see her boyfriend asleep on their bed. But when her eyes adjusted to the dim lighting of the room, she saw her boyfriend draped under the bed sheets with a blonde, giggling woman. Stunned into silence, Alexis let the door swing into the bedroom and hit the wall violently and loudly. Bryan jumped ten feet in the air, while the blonde threw the sheets over her exposed chest. Alexis could say nothing, but stood in the doorway staring at Bryan. His eyes were wide and his hair was disheveled on top of his head. Finally moving from his startled position in bed, Bryan jumped out of bed and threw on a pair of sweatpants. “Alexis, this isn’t what it looks like,” Bryan said quickly searching the floor for a t-shirt. “Why does everybody always say that?” Alexis asked rubbing her forehead with her hand. “If it’s not what I think it is, then what is it?” “I love you, Alexis. It was the stress of medical school that made me do it,” Bryan explained urgently. “Bryan, cheating isn’t love. And no one ever said love or medical school was easy. Don’t you think I’m having a tough time trying to get a breaking story at the Times?” Alexis yelled. “You’re not in school. You’re getting paid to work; I’m not.” “I don’t get paid if I don’t write a good story. Do you know how hard that is? Just look around this apartment,” Alexis shouted motioning around the apartment. “Obviously, I don’t get paid much to work my butt off! What do you do for us, Bryan?” “I’m going to school so we can move out of this roach motel,” Bryan shouted back. “Don’t you dare yell at me,” Alexis growled. “I haven’t done anything wrong.” “Um, excuse me,” the blonde said meekly from the bed. “WHAT?!” both Bryan and Alexis screamed back at her. “I’d like to leave, but I need to get dressed,” the blonde replied. “You seem to have no problem getting undressed in my home, so you might as well get dresses in it too,” Alexis shouted. “I’d rather not be naked in front of you,” the blonde replied. “But my boyfriend is okay?” “Lauren, there’s a bathroom down the hall,” Bryan said dragging Alexis from the room. “You can get dressed there.” “Get your hands off me!” Alexis screamed as they arrived in the living room. “You are the biggest piece of shit I’ve ever met in my life!” “You need to calm down.” “Me? Calm down? How would you feel? But I guess you wouldn’t care. You have no feelings, and you especially have no feelings for me,” Alexis yelled. “The landlord is going to get complaints,” Bryan said quietly. “Why should you care? It’s only a ‘roach motel’ as you called it!” “We have to live someplace,” Bryan shrugged. “I have to live someplace. You will not be living with me!” “Are you kicking me out?” Bryan shouted. “Ladies and gentlemen, we have a genius,” Alexis said as she rolled her eyes. “Ugh, I can’t be in here anymore. I’m gone.” “Where are you going?” “To see my dad,” Alexis replied shoving her feet into an old pair of sneakers. “Your dad? David Moore? Ha! That’s funny!” Bryan snorted. “He’ll be a great support system.” “Shut up! You’re just as bad as him! I trusted you. I thought you were the one man I could trust in this world. For once in my life, I felt loved, but it was all a lie,” Alexis yelled starting to feel tears accumulate in her eyes. “I do love you.” “You love yourself!” Alexis shouted and slammed the apartment door behind her. ***** Driving in her silver Toyota Camry, Alexis wiped a tear from under her eye. She couldn’t believe she was driving back to work against rush hour traffic. Was she insane to run to her father? Alexis knew she wouldn’t receive love and attention from her father when she walked into his corner office at the NY Times. David Moore showed no more emotion than a serial killer. Using her office building key, Alexis rode the elevator to her father’s floor. Although it was 7 o’clock at night, she knew her father would still be at his computer with his glasses perched at the end of his nose. Knocking gently on his open office door, Alexis waited for her father to look up. Nodding his head, David continued to type furiously on his keyboard. Alexis sat down and waited for him to finish whatever he was so intent on finishing before he would talk to his daughter. The entire wall behind David’s desk was covered with large, tinted windows. The wall to the right of the chair Alexis sat in contained David’s Columbia University diploma and his most prized possession sitting on a shelf, his Pulitzer Prize. In exchange for attending the Pulitzers, David had skipped Alexis’ high school graduation. So as she accepted her diploma, Alexis had no one in the crowd to smile at triumphantly. But that was a perfect example of David Moore: self-centered, uncaring, and cold. “Almost done,” David said quietly. “There. What do you need?” “Dad, I can’t even begin to explain,” Alexis sighed rubbing her temples in unison. “Well, figure it out,” David snapped. “I have a deadline to make.” “I went home early today to surprise Bryan,” Alexis explained ignoring David’s cold retort. “I found him with another woman. He was cheating on me, and I had no idea.” “I would hope you didn’t know about it. If you did or had any idea, you are a very weak and sad individual.” “I wouldn’t stay with a guy if I knew he was cheating, Dad,” Alexis replied. “Maybe, but sometimes I doubt your reasoning,” David sighed taking off his glasses. “I had to get out of there, so I came here. I told him to pack his things and leave. I can’t even stand the mention of his name,” Alexis groaned. “This is good,” David said matter-of-factly. “There will be no need for Bryan to move out.” “What are you talking about?” “You have yet to make a splash here at the NY Times. But I take the blame for that. My shadow is too big for you to step out of,” David replied. “I found you a new job, one that will take you far away from New York City.” “You’ve just decided to change my life?” Alexis asked in anger. “I will improve your life if anything. You will be moving to London to work at the Times. It is time you get a real job at a newspaper.” “What if I don’t want to go?” “You have no choice. Today was your last day at the NY Times. I have your flight tickets in my drawer. You leave at 11 o’clock in the afternoon,” David answered handing her the lone ticket. “How could you do this to me?” Alexis asked feeling tears form in her eyes. “You have to leave the nest sometime,” David shrugged. “I’m doing what’s best for you.” “Why does everyone think they know what’s best for me?” Alexis yelled. “I am the one who will plan my life, not you!” “I suggest you go back to your apartment and pack. I’ll ignore your last comments,” David said coldly as he put his glasses back on and resumed his typing. Alexis knew the conversation was over, and there was no more she was allowed to say. David had always been this way, but it had gotten worse after Alexis had decided to become a journalist. Driving her car back to her apartment, Alexis called Bryan to warn him of her arrival. “Bryan, I’ll be home soon. I need to pack, but I don’t need you. I suggest you make yourself disappear,” Alexis said as soon as he answered the phone. “Pack? I thought I was moving out.” “My father found me a job in London. My flight is tomorrow,” Alexis replied. “Alexis, you can’t leave like this. You can’t run away from things,” Bryan said softly. “I can and I will. Please, don’t be there. You’ll only make it harder.” “You’re just like your mother, running away,” Bryan mumbled. “What did you say? Don’t you ever talk about my mother like that,” Alexis yelled over the phone. “I didn’t mean anything by it.” “Yes, you did. It’s over. Give me my space to pack, and I’ll be gone tomorrow,” Alexis said as she hung up and drove home. Unlocking the door of her apartment, Alexis switched on the lights. Bryan’s books were still on the coffee table, but he was nowhere in the apartment. Finding the suitcases in the bedroom closet, Alexis took two of them and packed the possessions she could fit in the large, rolling duffel bags. After her suitcases were placed near the door, Alexis prepared her carry-on bag. Looking over at the almost bare shelf near the door, Alexis picked up her most prized possession. It was a small, wood-framed picture of her mother and herself at four-years-old. They were smiling together on a sunny day in Central Park with their matching dark brown hair and piercing, silver eyes. It was a time when Alexis had at least one parent to watch over her and love her. Holding the picture frame to her chest, Alexis fell asleep on the couch with her work clothes still on.
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Post by Annie on Jun 29, 2006 9:33:02 GMT 3
Chapter 2
Sitting in the back of the taxi, Alexis fiddled with the zipper of her carry-on bag. She didn’t care that the sights of London were flying past her window. As soon as she had arrived in England, it had begun to pour. The dark skies and hovering clouds fit Alexis’ mood exactly. The last thing she wanted was bright sunshine to taunt her somber and depressed face.
Alexis was already on her way to work, fresh off a flight from New York City. She had nowhere to put her suitcases and would have to bring them with her on her first day of work. Her father had kindly forgotten to tell her where she was supposed to stay during her new job. When the cab finally halted in front of the large and imposing Times building, Alexis paid the driver, grabbed her bags, and ran into the lobby.
Although she had only been in the rain a minute at the most, her clothes and hair were soaked. Walking up to the front desk with two suitcases, a carry-on, wet hair and clothes, and make-up dribbling down her face, Alexis knew she must have looked like a compete psychopath. But considering the mood she was in, it wasn’t exactly a stretch of the imagination.
“Excuse me. I’m Alexis Moore. May I speak to Robert Tomson?” Alexis asked politely wiping her wet face with the cuff of her suit.
“One minute,” the receptionist said before dialing a number and speaking to the editor. “Yes, sir. I’ll call him down.”
“Is everything alright?”
“Everything is fine. The editor is busy at the moment, but I’ll send down Neil Harman to assist you in your first day. I hope your flight wasn’t too stressful,” the receptionist smiled warmly.
“It was fine, thank you. Miss?”
“My name is Linda. I apologize for not introducing myself earlier,” she said extending her hand.
“No, that’s fine,” Alexis said shaking the older woman’s hand. “I know it’s asking a lot of you, but do you know what I’m working as?”
“I’m not sure, but not to worry. If Tomson knows who you are, you’re certainly not working as a delivery girl,” Linda laughed.
“What’s so funny?” a middle-aged man asked from behind them.
“Oh, nothing, Neil. Alexis, this is Neil Harman. He’ll see that you’re settled in,” Linda introduced.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Alexis nodded.
“Same. If you’ll follow me, I can show you your office. But don’t get your hopes up, it’s just a cubicle. Nothing special, but it does have an amazing view of the back of my head,” Neil smiled.
“I can’t wait.”
“You can leave your bags here. Linda will take care of them.”
“I’ll be happy to get rid of them,” Alexis sighed rolling her two suitcases behind Linda’s desk. “Okay, I’m ready to go.”
Following Neil to the elevator, Alexis stepped inside with him and waited by his side as the elevator climbed the floors.
“I have to ask. What’s your connection to Tomson? He never knows what’s going on with the new employees,” Neil asked breaking the silence.
“It’s not my connection; it’s my father’s connection. He decided I needed to leave the New York Times and come here. But I’m not some spoiled kid that hangs on Daddy’s coattails.”
“From what Robert told me, I can tell you don’t. Columbia University? That’s pretty good,” Neil mused. “Your father should be proud of you.”
“I wish it was that simple,” Alexis muttered as they arrived at their floor.
“Here we are. Alexis Moore, welcome to the world of sports,” Neil smiled extending his hands to showcase the maze of cubicles in front of them.
“Sports?”
“You are now a sports columnist at the Times,” Neil nodded. “Let’s get you unpacked at a desk.”
“Sports columnist? My dad won’t be happy about this,” Alexis said as she followed Neil around.
“He didn’t tell you what you would be working as?”
“Nope. But I can’t complain. I hope I’ll be working as a soccer columnist. Soccer is usually open,” Alexis said looking on the bright side.
“Whoa! Hold on there. Football isn’t what it is in America. Football is a big thing here and only the senior reporters get to write about football,” Neil explained.
“Then what am I working as a columnist for?” Alexis asked.
“Along with me and five other columnists, you’ll be writing about tennis.”
“Huh? Tennis?”
“Yup. Here we go,” Neil said as they arrived at an empty cubicle. “This is where you will slave away for hours. My cubicle is in front of you, and to your right is Isabelle’s cubicle. I have a feeling you two will get along. Actually, you’ll have to.”
“Why is that?”
“Hi, I’m Isabelle. But you can call me Izzy,” a girl popped out from behind them.
Standing at a diminutive 4’11” to Alexis’ 5’10” frame, Izzy’s mass of thick, curly, red hair added an extra inch to her height. Staring at Alexis with twinkling, dark brown eyes, Izzy looked like a child. But if she was working at the Times, she obviously had talent in that little body of hers.
“Hi. I’m Alexis,” Alexis replied warily. “I’m sort of confused right now.”
“You look that way. I’m guessing Neil hasn’t been very informative,” Izzy smiled sending a look to Neil. “Meet your flatmate.”
“You’re my flatmate? I mean, I didn’t mean for it to sound like that,” Alexis blushed.
“No worries. The newer journalists at the Times are usually placed in apartments together. And considering you’re from the States, you’ll definitely need the help of a true Brit,” Izzy laughed.
“So I’m no longer homeless?”
“You are no longer homeless. And I’m no longer a loner.”
“Sorry to break up the fun, but we all have work to do to be prepared for Friday,” Neil chimed in.
“What happens Friday?” Alexis asked.
“Izzy, you, and I are being sent to Paris to cover the French Open,” Neil answered.
“The French Open?”
“How much do you know about tennis?” Izzy asked.
“Very little,” Alexis confessed.
“We better use the rest of this week to research the basics. We’ll leave you with the interviews. Less actual writing,” Izzy suggested.
“Great. When do we start?” Alexis asked.
“In your case,” Neil said, “now.”
*****
“Are you excited?” Izzy asked as they sat around their tiny kitchen table the night before they left for Paris.
“I’m not excited to be on a plane again,” Alexis said taking a bite of her ice cream. “But I am very excited to be traveling to Paris.”
“Have you ever been?” Izzy asked before shuffling a huge mouthful of vanilla ice cream and chocolate syrup into her mouth.
“I was there once, but I was really young. I don’t remember anything.”
“You’ll remember this trip.”
“Oh, I’m sure, because you and Neil are such party animals,” Alexis teased.
“You’d be surprised. Under his married with children façade is a booty-shaking, martini-guzzling male Paris Hilton,” Izzy smiled.
“What about you?” Alexis laughed.
“Me? I’m only the male Paris Hilton’s sidekick.”
“I’ll need a few drinks after the last four days,” Alexis sighed.
“You’ve learned so much. I don’t know how you process it all,” Izzy exclaimed referring to Alexis’ tennis research.
“I’m so nervous. How will I ever be able to interview these players without feeling like a complete fake?”
“They won’t even notice. They’ll be too busy staring at you,” Izzy grinned.
“Ewww. I want nothing to do with professional athletes,” Alexis said poking out her tongue.
“You might change your mind when you see some of them.”
“Like who?”
“Well, your fellow American, Andy Roddick, is pretty cute. And if you like the tall, dark, and handsome type, you’ll love Marat Safin,” Izzy answered.
“I think I remember reading something about Marat Safin,” Alexis said. “Isn’t he the one that breaks rackets and parties a lot?”
“Racket breaking? Yes. But he no longer parties like he used to. He’s just recovered from a knee injury. He’s an important player at Roland Garros this year. Everyone wants to see what he’ll accomplish,” Izzy explained.
“I don’t know. He seemed like a hotheaded playboy.”
“You can make up your mind when we get there. Tomson wants an interview from him,” Izzy informed taking both of their bowls and walking to the sink.
“I’m interviewing him?”
“It’s not arranged, but you can get it if you try hard enough. We are the Times after all,” Izzy smiled.
“This should be interesting,” Alexis said rolling her eyes.
“Oh, don’t act so depressed. Maybe you’ll grow a little crush,” Izzy teased before she left the kitchen.
“Yeah right. Love at first sight,” Alexis said to herself before she turned off the kitchen light and went to bed.
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Post by Addie on Jun 30, 2006 18:51:37 GMT 3
Chapter 3
“Alexis, wake up,” Izzy whispered softly. “You’re going to miss the view.”
“What view?” Alexis asked groggily as she wiped the sleep off her eyes.
“We’re about to land in Paris. You can see everything from where we are hovering,” Neil answered leaning over Izzy and Alexis to look out the window.
Looking out the window next to her, Alexis’ eyes slowly adjusted to the beautiful view below them. As the afternoon sun lit up Paris, the Eiffel Tower and the Arc de Triomphe stood awe-inspiring in the distance. Alexis immediately woke up from her nap, and the excitement of the next two weeks in Paris energized her.
*****
Wearing her press badge proudly, Alexis finally understood why Izzy and Neil loved tennis so much. As they walked around the grounds of Roland Garros, Alexis fed off the history that surrounded them. Besides the past, the present and future were equally inspiring. Sitting down on the side of Rafael Nadal’s practice court, she watched as Izzy took out her camera and Neil took out his notebook.
“Um, what should I do? I’ve never covered a sports event,” Alexis whispered to Neil.
“It’s just like any other story you research. Remember to absorb the details, take notes, and get the important quotes. You’ll do great,” Neil said before he walked off to interview an onlooker.
Still feeling apprehensive, Alexis turned to talk to Izzy. But as she looked down, the mass of red hair and energy was gone snapping away pictures. Sighing to herself, Alexis faced the facts that she was on her own. No one could help her now but herself. She had to prove herself to the editor of the Times and to her father. Taking out her laptop and finding a spot to sit down in the stands, Alexis began to type notes into her word processor.
Looking at her surroundings, Alexis took note of the weather, the amount of people populating the practice courts, and the sounds of balls bouncing on the clay courts. Finally, she stared at the courts and their players. Watching Nadal hit his left-handed forehands was impressive, but it was nothing to write about. The more interesting aspect to his practicing was his drive and determination.
It was only a practice session, but Nadal ran his butt off for every shot. Occasionally, she could hear the sounds of “vamos” from both Nadal and his coach, Uncle Tony. The atmosphere that came from his court was that of a winner and a returning champion. None of these details surpassed Alexis as she typed furiously away at her computer, never taking her eyes off of Nadal.
This was what Alexis was looking for. She always wanted something personal and intimate in her stories. Her professors at Columbia University had frequently praised the new and interesting angles she worked with. Before she knew it, Nadal’s practice was over and Neil and Izzy were beside her.
“How did you do?” Neil asked sitting down in the seat next to her.
“Not too bad. My notes are all over the place though,” Alexis answered biting her lower lip.
“Let me see,” Neil said leaning over her to view her notes. “Wow!”
“What?”
“How did you get all of this? I only have two pages of notes. You have five pages of notes, and it was only a practice session!” Neil exclaimed.
“I don’t know how it happens. But once I sit down and concentrate, notes pour out of my head onto my computer screen,” Alexis shrugged.
“That’s an amazing gift, kiddo,” Neil complimented giving her a pat on the back.
“Really? You think so?”
“You need more confidence,” Izzy commented.
“I have plenty of confidence, but I’ve never been good with compliments,” Alexis explained.
“Didn’t your father ever say anything to you?” Neil asked.
“Her father’s a real asshole,” Izzy explained. “I hope you don’t mind if I say that, Alexis. I’m just reporting the facts.”
“I don’t mind at all.”
“Well, let’s go back to the hotel. Maybe we can catch an early dinner,” Neil suggested.
“I’ll meet you two in an hour. I need to scrounge up some quotes,” Alexis said putting away her laptop and getting out her notebook.
“Are you sure you don’t want us to wait around?” Izzy asked.
“No, I’ll be fine. I’m kind of enjoying the mood of this place,” Alexis replied.
“Okay, we’ll see you later,” Neil said as he disappeared into the crowd with Izzy behind him.
Walking down to be with the crowds of fans, Alexis searched their faces for the best candidates. She didn’t want only young fans, or only older fans, but an equal mix of both. After questioning several eager fans, Alexis finally had enough quotes to feel comfortable. Stuffing her notebook in her laptop case, she began to walk past the practice courts to leave.
But as she reached the last court next to the grounds’ exit, Alexis stopped. She recognized the player practicing immediately. Wearing a light blue Adidas shirt with his hair in a bun, Alexis saw Marat Safin for the first time in person. Hitting backhands in every direction, his play was impressive as he practiced with Olivier Rochus. But after a few serves went into the net, the brilliance of his play dissolved and his rackets were soon being launched across the court.
This was the Marat Safin Alexis had seen and read about on the internet. He made the same amount of winners that he did broken rackets. It was clear from his body language that the practice session was about to end. As he packed up his bag, Alexis saw the perfect opportunity in front of her. If she hurried, she could catch him as he left the court and ask for an interview.
Fighting the swarms of crazy fans, Alexis finally managed to push her way to the front of the angry mob. Taking out her credentials, Alexis prepared to make her request. But instead of signing autographs and going through the crowd, Marat escaped through the other end of the court.
“What an ass! Can’t he see all these people waiting for him?” Alexis groaned as she took off after him.
It wasn’t the easiest chase she had ever made. Wearing a pair of kitten heels and with her laptop bag banging against her hip as she ran, Alexis cursed violently and frequently under her breath. When she was finally in shouting distance of him, she stopped while other fans caught up with the fleeing Marat.
“You can’t run now,” Alexis muttered as she caught her breath and watched him being swarmed by fans. “Excuse me, Mr. Safin.”
Although her voice was steady and loud over the chattering fans, Marat went on signing autographs silently never looking her way.
“Excuse me, Mr. Safin,” Alexis shouted again. “I’m with the Times UK. I was wondering if I could speak to you regarding your performance here.”
“What?” Marat replied finally looking in her direction.
“I said ‘I’m from the Times, and I would like to speak to you about your performance here’,” Alexis repeated agitatedly.
“You might want to wait till the tournament starts,” Marat said before he left the crowd and headed to the locker rooms.
“What the hell was that all about?” Alexis asked to no one in particular.
Angry and confused, Alexis shoved her credentials into her bag and stomped out of the grounds. She couldn’t believe she had run her butt off to speak to Marat Safin, and he had swatted her off like a fly. When she arrived back at her hotel room 30 minutes later, all Alexis wanted to do was take a bath and drown her sorrows in a bottle of wine, but that wasn’t how it was meant to be when Izzy knocked on her door.
“Hey, are you ready to go out?” Izzy asked with her usual happiness.
“It might be a date night for you and Neil. I’m beat,” Alexis sighed letting Izzy into the room.
“What happened?” Izzy asked as Alexis fell onto her bed.
“After you guys left and I got my quotes, I saw Marat Safin practicing, so I waited around. When I went to talk to him, he ran off and I had to chase after him in heels. Once he finally stopped to sign autographs, I had to shout twice that I wanted to talk to him, but he just blew me off,” Alexis fumed.
“He must have had a bad practice,” Izzy said.
“When does he not have a bad practice? The guy seriously needs to grow up!” Alexis exclaimed shutting her eyes.
“Oh, don’t go to sleep,” Izzy said hitting Alexis gently in the stomach.
“Ouch! Why should I go out?”
“We’re going to this amazing restaurant. It takes forever to get in, but it’s worth the wait.”
“I really don’t feel like waiting in line.”
“You can bring your laptop with you and cross-check your notes with Neil. I got some pretty interesting shots of Nadal’s biceps,” Izzy giggled.
“Nadal? A little young, don’t you think?” Alexis teased.
“I’m only 25-years-old. You’re younger than me. You could go for him.”
“I’ll pass,” Alexis laughed.
“So, are you coming?”
“Good food?”
“Yup, and Neil’s paying,” Izzy answered.
“That’s nice of him.”
“It is. He just doesn’t know it yet.”
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Post by sabz on Jul 1, 2006 14:05:00 GMT 3
Chapter 4
“How much longer?” Izzy whined.
“You shouldn’t be complaining. You were the one who wanted to go to this restaurant,” Alexis said.
“But we’ve been waiting for an hour,” Izzy said resting her head against the wall.
“The lady who took our name said our wait would be at least an hour and a half. If you hold on for another 30 minutes, we’ll be in,” Neil said not looking up from his notes.
“I can’t believe the two of you aren’t bored.”
“We’re comparing notes, getting work done. You should do the same,” Alexis muttered.
“It’s different for a photographer. I’ve looked at every single picture a hundred times. I could draw them by now,” Izzy groaned.
“Be patient and let us work. When we get home from the restaurant, we have a deadline to make. If Alexis and I start writing now, we’ll be able to sleep a few hours tonight.”
“Did Tomson tell you what our story should be like?” Izzy asked.
“He wants something similar to an introduction to the tournament. We should talk about the sights and sounds, and how the players are doing,” Neil answered then turned to Alexis. “Your notes are perfect for that. I told Rob the story would be written by you.”
“Excuse me?”
“I’ll be here to help you, but this story is yours. You have an amazing talent for describing the atmosphere of a place. No one could do this first story better,” Neil explained patting her on the back.
“Do you think I can do it?”
“I know you can. Show your father who the real writer is in the family.”
“I will.”
“Well, look at that,” Izzy said.
“What?” Neil asked.
“Not what but who. Alexis might recognize him,” Izzy answered smiling at Alexis.
“Oh, crap. His royal highness has decided to grace this restaurant with his presence,” Alexis groaned.
Walking into the restaurant like he owned the place, Marat followed his coach and manager. His hair was still in a bun, but he was dressed in jeans and a wrinkled t-shirt. Listening carefully, Alexis waited to witness his reaction to the outrageous wait he would be given to get a table.
“Three, please,” Marat’s manager said.
“It might be a long wait, sir. A table for three can be an hour and a half wait,” the lady replied.
“You wouldn’t make a professional tennis player wait that long, would you? Especially one as popular as Marat Safin,” his manager said.
“Well, we just finished preparing a table for three, but it’s meant for another party,” the lady explained.
“I’m sure they wouldn’t mind giving up their table for Marat,” his manager responded.
“Like hell we would!” Alexis shouted.
The entire room of waiting diners turned their heads in unison to where Alexis was standing. She could feel everyone’s eyes on her, but most of them looked hopeful that she would defend their tables. Nobody in the room wanted to give up their table after waiting as long as they had.
“We’ve been waiting for over an hour to get a table. And I’ll be damned before I let you take a table from us or anyone else in this room,” Alexis said stepping forward.
“You don’t seem to understand. Marat has a match tomorrow,” his manager replied coolly.
“I understand perfectly, but maybe he should come to the restaurants earlier if he wants to get home at a reasonable time,” Alexis snapped.
“Wait. I remember you,” Marat said. “You’re the reporter who wanted an interview earlier.”
“How about we make an exchange? Your table for an interview with Marat,” his manager suggested.
“That’s not how it works,” Alexis replied. “My colleagues are hungry, and I’m disgusted that you operate that way.”
“But it’s an interview none the less.”
“After all the shit I’ve seen, I’d rather interview Stalin than your client,” Alexis snapped.
“Does that mean you’re not giving up your table?” the lady asked.
“So it is our table. No, we won’t be giving it up. May we be seated now?” Alexis asked not taking her eyes off Marat.
Standing in front of her, Marat look stunned that anyone would deny him what he wanted. In his eyes, Alexis could make out agitation, anger, and something else. She couldn’t make out what it was, possibly admiration. But why would he admire her? Shaking the thought out of her head, Alexis followed Neil and Izzy to their table with triumph.
“Moore, 1. Safin, 1,” Izzy whispered. “Way to tie up the score.”
*****
When they had finally gotten their table, Amit and Peter were fuming but not at the restaurant officials. Neither of them could believe a sports reporter would pass up an interview with Marat to keep her table. But most importantly, they couldn’t believe a woman would have the gull to fight back.
“I can’t believe that woman! Who does she think she is?” Amit fumed as they were eating their dinners.
“Someone entitled to claim the table she was waiting for,” Marat shrugged. “It was her table, and they had been waiting for over an hour.”
“Americans! They think they’re entitled to whatever they want!” Amit grumbled.
“Just drop the conversation,” Peter said. “It’s obvious Marat has no ill will to her.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Marat asked dropping his fork onto his plate.
“You seemed to like her. I saw your expression,” Peter grinned. “You like the difficult ones, don’t you?”
“Her? No way. I would never date someone like that,” Marat said coolly.
“Like what?” Peter continued to prod.
“She’s pushy, arrogant, and hot-tempered,” Marat answered.
“Hmmm. Sounds like someone I know,” Peter smiled.
“Me?” Marat asked incredulously.
“Those words do seem to describe you,” Amit agreed.
“Both of you have lost your mind,” Marat exclaimed. “I’m going to the restroom.”
“Fine, run away. But hurry, because we need to leave,” Peter said before Marat disappeared.
Winding his way through the maze of tables, Marat finally made it to the men’s restroom. Looking around the room, he was glad to see it was completely deserted. Putting his hands on either side of a sink, Marat leaned his body forward. He had never felt this uneasy before.
When he had first seen the reporter, she had been sitting in the stands near the practice courts. Typing away at her computer with the afternoon sun on her face, she caught his eye immediately in the swarm of reporters and fans populating the grounds. She wore no make up and her hair was in a sloppy ponytail behind her head. But when she looked up from her computer screen, her silver eyes made his breath stop.
Stupidly, he had acted like a jackass when she had approached him for an interview. And after the restaurant table fiasco, Marat was certain she would never look at him without contempt. Turning the water on in the sink, he splashed the icy liquid onto his face. What was her name? If he had time tomorrow, he could ask around but she was probably new. He had never seen her before.
Shaking his head, Marat found the paper towels and dried his face. Tossing the wadded paper toweling in the trash, he remembered that Amit and Peter were waiting to leave. Rushing out of the bathroom, he pushed past a woman going to restroom.
“An ‘excuse me’ would’ve been nice,” she mumbled continuing to walk to the bathroom door.
“What was that?” Marat asked turning around. “It’s you again.”
“I should’ve known it was you,” she said turning around.
“Why do you have to be so ornery?” Marat asked.
“Why do you have to be so rude?” she returned.
“Alexis? We need to get back to the hotel,” her friend said as she appeared behind them.
“Alexis? That’s your name?” Marat asked.
“Yes, like it matters to you. Alexis Moore, so if you want to complain to my editor, go for it.”
“Alexis, can we go?” her friend asked.
“Yeah, I’m sorry Izzy. Let’s leave Mr. Safin to himself,” Alexis said before she left with Izzy.
Standing in the hallway by himself, Marat watched as they walked away. When he could finally process the encounter, he smiled to himself. Alexis Moore was definitely unlike any other woman he had ever met, and even though she easily qualified as a bitch, he couldn’t help but feel something for her he had never felt.
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Post by Addie on Jul 7, 2006 1:27:13 GMT 3
Chapter 5
Brushing her teeth, Alexis yawned and almost gagged on the toothpaste in her mouth. As she rinsed, she heard the distinct tap of Neil’s knock on her hotel room door. Opening the door, Neil greeted her with a slap of a newspaper against her chest. Holding onto the newspaper and looking befuddled, Alexis waited for some explanation.
“Well?” Neil asked.
“Well what?” Alexis replied.
“Look at the front page of the sports section,” Neil nodded to the Times newspaper still clutched to her chest.
“What’s going on?” Alexis asked as she turned to the front page. “Oh, my God! My story’s on the first page! How did this happen?!”
“The editor liked your story. I told you he would,” Neil replied with a huge smile on his face.
“But the first page? Tennis?” Alexis asked. “This is too good to be true.”
“If I were you, I would call up dear, old daddy and rub it in his face. I’m sure his first story wasn’t the first one of a section,” Neil laughed.
“No, it wasn’t. I think they stuck it between the classified ads,” Alexis giggled as tears streamed down her cheeks. “He’s never gotten over that.”
“Aww, don’t cry,” Neil said handing her a tissue.
“I’m so happy. This is unbelievable,” Alexis murmured staring at her story.
“Well, believe it. By the way, we’re running behind, so you might want to hurry up,” Neil suggested.
“Oh, yeah. I’ll be ready in ten minutes,” Alexis said shutting her door.
With her room quiet once again, Alexis let out a huge sigh of relief. She was finally making a name for herself and without the help of her father.
*****
Walking past the lines of people trying to gain entrance to Suzanne Langlen Court, Alexis felt important and privileged. With her press badge around her neck, Alexis could gain entry to almost anywhere on the grounds but so could a lot of journalists. When they finally arrived at the press box, all of the front row seats were taken, and all that was left were a few lonely back row seats.
“Oh, come on. We should have the front row seats. We’re the Times, aren’t we?” Alexis complained.
“Unfortunately, it’s first come, first serve,” Neil shrugged as he began to climb the stairs to the empty seats.
“Couldn’t we just sit in front of the first row and kneel down? We’ve got to get the best coverage, Neil,” Alexis said staring longingly at the court.
“You can go ahead and sit up there. But I’m warning you now, the clay flies up straight up into your face. I learned that the hard way as a rookie reporter,” Neil laughed.
“I’ll manage,” Alexis replied rolling her eyes. “Are you coming with me, Izzy?”
“I don’t want to leave Neil alone,” Izzy said looking sympathetically at him. “But I need to be as close as possible.”
“Then it’s settled,” Alexis said taking Izzy’s wrist. “You’re coming with me. Neil’s a big boy.”
“I’m all grown up, Izzy. Go get your pictures,” Neil smiled before he sat down in his seat.
Dragging Izzy to the railing of the press box, they kneeled down together and got out their equipment. For Izzy, it was her camera with the amazing zoom that had caught Rafael Nadal’s biceps during practice yesterday. But for Alexis, it was her laptop, her eyes, and her ears. Exchanging a few last words with Izzy, Alexis stepped into the zone she was always in when she reported. The only thing that mattered was the court below her, everything else could wait.
Turning her head to see the players walk on court, Alexis almost gasped when she saw Marat Safin walk onto the court behind Fernando Gonzalez. Sitting where she was, she couldn’t see his face well enough to read his emotions. She wanted to see him be nervous or confused, but when he got up from his chair to start the match, he showed none of those emotions.
The first set seemed like a blur as Marat lost 3-6. But when the second set began, something was visibly different about Marat. He was more confident and his groundstrokes were near perfection. It looked like someone had flipped on a switch, and he was once again a two-time Grand Slam winner and a former No. 1. Unfortunately, it was a fleeting glimpse of the player he used to be. He lost the next two sets 3-6, 1-6 and handed over a win to Gonzalez.
“How can he do that?” Alexis asked snapping out of her reporting zone.
“That’s Marat Safin for you,” Izzy shrugged.
“If only he would take his arrogance and confidence from off the court to on court, he would be invincible,” Alexis replied.
“Ready for a fun post-match interview?” Neil asked coming from nowhere.
“He’s going to be blowing off steam,” Alexis said as she finished packing up.
“He’ll be blowing fire. He might finally be able to match you,” Neil grinned.
“Shut up!” Alexis said hitting Neil playfully in the shoulder. “Let’s go wait to see the fireworks.”
*****
Sitting near the door to the press conference room, Neil, Alexis, and Izzy sat lined up on the bench. They had been waiting for 40 minutes to participate in Marat Safin’s post-match interview. But as the minutes ticked by, all of the reporters were becoming anxious and agitated. Neil and Alexis leaned back against the wall, while Izzy rested her head against Alexis’ shoulder.
“Something’s up,” Alexis said quietly.
“He has to do a press conference. It’s part of his contract,” Neil replied.
“Do you think he would skip it?” Izzy asked with her eyes still closed.
“If he did, he could be fined up to $10,000 dollars,” Neil said staring at the ceiling. “It wouldn’t be worth it to not go to the press conference.”
“But this is Marat Safin we’re talking about. He never makes sense,” Alexis groaned. “Where is he?”
“Ladies and gentlemen,” a tournament official called as he entered the hallway where the reporters were conjugated. “I have an announcement to make.”
“What is it?” Neil asked waking up from his trance.
“If you are waiting for Marat Safin’s press conference, there will not be one. We apologize if you have been waiting for a long time,” the official apologized.
“For a long time? We’ve been waiting for almost an hour!” Alexis said standing up from their bench. “Why isn’t there going to be a press conference?”
“Marat has decided to not attend his press conference,” he replied.
“Can he do that?” Alexis asked.
“We can’t force him to do a press conference, but he will most probably be fined,” he answered. “I’m sorry for the inconvenience.”
When the murmurs of the reporters grew into shouts, the tournament official quickly exited the hallway. Neil and Izzy grabbed their bags, as well as Alexis’, and began to walk out of the building. Alexis followed behind them feeling steam coming from her head. She had waited an hour to ask him questions, anything to make up for the fact she couldn’t get an interview with him.
“How can he do this?” Alexis shouted as they walked towards their car. “Everyone was waiting on him. Who does he think he is?”
“A professional tennis player?” Neil said rubbing the tension from his forehead.
“Maybe, but he really is a professional asshole,” Alexis exclaimed stopping in the middle of the sidewalk. “Who does he think he is? First, he denies an interview with me when he has nothing better to do. Then, he tries to steal our table, because he’s just so much better than everyone else. Next, he loses his first round match. And now, he skips out on his post-match interview!”
“Alexis, you might want to be quieter,” Izzy whispered.
“No, I won’t be. Why should I? I’m pissed. Just because he sucks at his job doesn’t mean I have to suck at mine,” Alexis continued to shout.
“Alexis,” Neil whispered.
“When was the last time he won a tournament? The guy has lost it, and he’s not man enough to face it.”
“Is that so?” a voice asked from behind her.
“Yeah, it is,” Alexis said turning around to look at them.
“You don’t know me. And you have no right to judge me,” Marat said loudly as soon as she turned around. “Do you play tennis? Do you think you could do a better job than me?”
“It wouldn’t be too hard to top you,” Alexis replied.
“You’re so full of yourself. If you think I’m such an asshole, take a look in the mirror.”
“I can look myself in the mirror without embarrassment. I work everyday for a tiny paycheck. But all you have to do is show up every other day, and you get millions!” Alexis snapped.
“Whatever you think woman,” Marat said throwing up his hands.
“Yeah, it is what I think. I know you’re not used to a woman with an opinion, considering your many flings, but women do have minds.”
“You know what? Ugh. Nevermind,” Marat shouted and walked to his car.
Still standing in the middle of the sidewalk, Alexis watched as his car drove away. Soon enough, Neil and Izzy were at her sides.
“Are you okay?” Izzy asked.
“She’s fine,” Neil answered for her. “Marat’s the one with the hurt ego. You really chewed him up.”
“Yeah, but I think I just lost any hopes for an interview.”
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Post by Addie on Jul 8, 2006 8:50:22 GMT 3
Chapter 6
“Who do I think I am? How about who does she think she is?” Marat shouted as his car drove through the streets of Paris.
They were already halfway to the hotel, but Marat was still fuming. Peter and Amit were forced to sit back in their seats and listen to Marat’s rants. Hitting the back of the front seat with his feet, Marat slapped the window of the car with the palm of his hand and groaned loudly.
“She doesn’t know me. I haven’t even said more than two sentences to the woman,” Marat said.
“She’s a reporter, Marat. She was frustrated that she wouldn’t be getting her story. Let it be,” Amit said from the front seat.
“I can understand why you’re angry, but not for the reason you say,” Peter commented.
“What do you mean? I’m angry, because she’s judging me, but she doesn’t know me. Wouldn’t you be mad?”
“I think the reason you’re mad is because you want her to like you. But after that sidewalk show, it’s evident she’s repulsed by you,” Peter explained.
“That’s complete shit! I have no feelings whatsoever for Alexis,” Marat defended.
“Ooo. Now we’re using her first name. It sounds like a crush to me,” Peter teased.
“I wouldn’t go any farther with that idea, Peter,” Amit warned. “Marat’s already in a bad mood.”
“You’re right. I’ll leave it alone,” Peter agreed and leaned back in his seat.
“Thank you,” Marat snapped and continued to stare out the car window.
*****
A week later, Alexis, Neil, and Izzy were up to their necks in Roland Garros reports. After Alexis’ front page debut, it seemed that England had grown a new appreciation for tennis. For once, they were tuning into tennis that was not being played on a grass court. But with greater demand, there came more responsibilities for Alexis and Neil. Every night, their deadline commanded a story as good as the previous one.
Sitting in Neil’s hotel room after dinner, the three of them were once again working away. From where Alexis was sitting on the couch with her laptop, she could make out a frown coming across Neil’s face. Hunched over his desk, Neil looked like he had aged ten years since she had known him. Setting her laptop down, she got up and walked over to Neil.
“Are you okay?” Alexis whispered.
“Huh? Oh, I’m fine. You really set the bar high with your first story,” Neil replied rubbing his forehead.
“Do you have a headache? I have some aspirin in my room.”
“No, it’s just stress. The older you get as a journalist, the greater the stress becomes,” Neil assured smiling up at her.
“If you’re feeling under the weather, I can write the story again tonight, and you can do the next two stories,” Alexis offered.
“No, that won’t be necessary. But I think I will go take a walk to clear my head,” Neil said standing up.
“Would you like someone to go with you?” Alexis asked.
“No. Please continue with what you are doing. You still need to think of a replacement for Marat’s interview,” Neil smiled.
“I’m thinking, I’m thinking,” Alexis laughed as she walked him to the door. “See you in a few minutes.”
Closing the door behind him, Alexis sighed before she walked back to the couch. She didn’t know Neil well enough to judge his behavior but something didn’t seem right. Sitting back down on the couch with Izzy, she couldn’t stop thinking about him. He was really worrying her.
“Izzy, I’ve got a question,” Alexis said not looking away from her laptop screen.
“What is it?” Izzy said dropping her camera on her lap.
“Is something wrong with Neil?”
“Well, he’s a little stressed. He’s no longer hot of the presses, if you know what I mean,” Izzy replied.
“Yeah, but why is he so stressed? It can’t all be work.”
“I’m going to tell you something,” Izzy said. “And I’m telling you, because I know that Neil already considers you as one of his own. Neil’s wife filed for divorce a week before you arrived. She’s trying to keep his kids away from him.”
“Why would she do that?”
“I have no idea besides the fact she’s psychotic. I’ve never liked the woman. She’s very stuck up and serious.”
“Poor Neil. I can see now why he’s been so tense lately,” Alexis murmured.
“I wouldn’t say anything to him. Wait until he tells you before you talk to him about it. It’s a sensitive subject.”
“I understand. I remember when my parents divorced. I was only six, but I remember most of it. But neither of my parents fought for custody of me. My dad didn’t want me, and my mom just wanted to get away from my father.”
“That must have hurt, to not be wanted,” Izzy said softly placing a hand on Alexis’ shoulder.
“I’ve gotten over it.”
“What happened to your mom?”
“I don’t know. That’s sounds terrible, I know. The last time I had any contact with her was when she sent me a card for my 16th birthday,” Alexis replied.
“You don’t know where she lives?”
“Nope. I’ve got a great family,” Alexis laughed darkly. “Let me guess, your family is perfect?”
“It’s not perfect, but it looks that way compared to yours. I have two older brothers, my mum and dad are still married, and both sets of my grandparents are still kicking. And we all have red, frizzy hair. Except for my oldest brother; he’s blond. Dad’s still suspicious,” Izzy laughed.
“That’s the kind of family I wish I had,” Alexis sighed. “It looks like Neil and I are in the same boat.”
“We better get off that subject before he returns,” Izzy suggested. “Have you decided what you’re going to do about your interview?”
“Well, since Marat is out, I need to find another player to interview. I want to get one of the top players, but not one of the men. They get enough coverage. It’s time for a woman to shine,” Alexis explained.
“I’m sure she will if you’re interviewing her. Who do you have in mind?” Izzy asked.
“I have a feeling it will be a repeat for Justine Henin-Hardenne. And even if she doesn’t win, I want an interview with her after the tournament. I’m interested in this whole Australian Open final thing.”
“You’re going to ask her questions about it?”
“Yup. It’s time she gives some real answers.”
“You’re going to turn into the Barbara Walters of tennis reporting,” Izzy laughed.
“I’ll knock the socks off of Barbara.”
*****
“Listening to her country’s anthem for the second year in a row, Henin-Hardenne was swelling with pride. Winning the French Open, she had accomplished something hundreds of players dream of but will never experience. This is her stage, and she is the star,” Izzy read from the Times newspaper.
“That was a great ending,” Neil smiled after Izzy had finished reading Alexis’ interview out loud. “I wish I could’ve written like that when I was your age.”
“Amazing way to finish up our French Open coverage,” Izzy agreed.
The three of them were sitting together in the airport as they waited for their plane back to London. It was Monday, the day after the men’s final and Alexis’ interview with Henin-Hardenne. Instead of being on the first page of the sports section, Alexis’ column was on the front page of the paper. She couldn’t ask for a better day.
“So, do you think it makes up for no Marat?” Alexis smiled.
“It’s a lot better than a Marat Safin interview,” Izzy said.
“You’ve caught the editor’s eye, that’s for sure,” Neil commented reading through the article by himself.
“You don’t think he’s been putting me on the front pages because of my dad, do you?” Alexis asked biting her lower lip.
“Robert Thomson? No, he likes what he likes. He won’t be persuaded in a different direction because a reporter in the States wants his daughter to be famous,” Neil answered.
“Then I did it myself?”
“Don’t act surprised,” Izzy said. “You’re on your way to the top.”
“I kind of like sports.”
“Maybe they’ll promote you to footie someday,” Neil shrugged.
“I love soccer, I mean, football. But I love working with you two, and I’m starting to enjoy tennis,” Alexis explained.
“Aww, we love you, too,” Izzy said giving Alexis a hug. “Come on, Neil. Join in on the love.”
“I’m coming,” Neil replied as he leaned forward to hug them.
In a three person circle, they sat in the airport waiting room. They had only become a team three weeks ago, but there was no denying they were already a family.
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Post by Addie on Jul 21, 2006 2:11:21 GMT 3
Chapter 7
After arriving back in London the day before, all three of them were back in the office the next day. Sitting at her cubicle with her feet propped up on her desk, Alexis stared straight ahead as she sipped a steaming cup of coffee. London had gained a higher respect for tennis after Alexis’ stories, but the attention only lasted two days after Roland Garros ended.
England was drowning in a sea of football coverage. The cluster of cubicles belonging to the football reporters was buzzing. Reporters were running around with coffee stains on their white shirts, red ink from their editing pens on their fingers, and future stories clasped in their hands. But a few feet away, the tennis cubicles resembled the crypts of Egypt. At the moment, there was nothing for them to do but stare at the inside of their eyelids.
From her relaxed position, Alexis could hear the sounds of Izzy’s mouse clicking as she played an exciting game of solitaire for the 52nd time that day. It wasn’t like Alexis would normally count those sorts of things, but there was nothing else to do. In front of her, Alexis could hear Neil snoring loudly. Swearing under her breath, Alexis vowed revenge on the FIFA World Cup. If it wasn’t for the World Cup hype, tennis would still be the talk of England.
As she continued to make her plan on how best to seek her revenge, the phone next to her feet jolted her to life. She was so surprised and caught off guard that her feet flew up, and her chair fell backwards. Crashing to the floor, Alexis opened her eyes to see Izzy and Neil above her. Unfortunately, more people were coming to see what the commotion was all about.
“Alexis, are you okay?” Izzy asked as she pulled Alexis to her feet.
“I’m fine,” Alexis said rubbing the back of her head. “Could someone get that damn phone?”
“I’ve got it,” Neil said picking up the receiver. “Hello? Yes, sir. She’s right here.”
“Who is it?” Alexis asked.
“It’s Robert Thomson,” Neil answered handing Alexis the receiver. “Take a deep breath. You’ll be fine.”
“What’s wrong? Why should I be worried all of a sudden?” Alexis asked covering the speaking end of the phone.
“Nothing that I know of, but sometimes a call from the editor can be good or bad,” Neil replied and sat back down at his desk.
“Alexis Moore,” she answered.
“Why did Neil answer your phone?”
“I was a bit preoccupied,” Alexis answered still rubbing the spot on the back of her head where she had fallen.
“I need you to come to my office,” Thomson said.
“I hope nothing is wrong,” she replied.
“Just be here in five minutes. We’ll discuss the matter then,” Thomson said and hung up the phone.
“What’s going on?” Izzy asked as Alexis hung up the receiver.
“I’m supposed to be in his office in five minutes,” Alexis sighed.
“Didn’t he say why?”
“Nope. He said we’ll discuss it when I get there,” Alexis shrugged. “You don’t think…? No, he wouldn’t.”
“Who wouldn’t?” Izzy asked looking up at Alexis with wide, brown eyes.
“You don’t think Marat Safin actually called Thomson to complain, do you?” Alexis asked wringing her hands.
“Nah, he’s too macho to admit he was whipped by a woman, especially one two years his junior,” Izzy smiled. “He’s probably going to congratulate you on your stories and send you back to work.”
“We’ll see,” Alexis muttered and walked to Thomson’s office on the floor below.
*****
“Mr. Tomson?” Alexis said timidly as she knocked on his office door.
“Come in,” he replied.
Opening the door, Alexis walked into the editor’s office. The room was filled with heavy, cherry wood furniture and the walls were a neutral color of beige. Sitting behind his desk with his glasses on the end of his nose and his black tie loosened from around his neck, Alexis almost thought her father had materialized in Robert Thomson’s office. But when he looked up and smiled, even a tiny, forced smile, she was instantly relieved.
“Please, sit down,” Thomson said gesturing toward a heavily cushioned chair in front of his desk.
“Thank you,” Alexis murmured sinking into the chair. “You have a very nice office.”
“I would hope so. I am the editor after all,” Thomson replied saving what he was working on his computer. “We have yet to meet.”
“That is true. But I would like to take this time to thank you for the opportunity to work at the Times. These last few weeks have been some of the best in my working life.”
“I am happy to hear that. I was a casual acquaintance with your father years before you were born. Now that I look at you, I clearly remember his wife, your mother,” Thomson commented.
“Many people say we look identical,” Alexis said.
“They’re not lying. I can’t see your father anywhere in your appearance. But most of all, your writing is completely different from your father’s work.”
“We never saw eye to eye on how to best view a story,” Alexis informed.
“Well, from what I’ve read, I’m glad you don’t write like your father. By the way, how is your father?”
“He’s, um, to be honest, I haven’t spoken to him since I moved here. You said you were glad I didn’t write like my father. Why is that? He did win a Pulitzer after all.”
“David Moore was always very detached from his work. If he would have been more involved and passionate, he would’ve been the editor of the New York Times by now,” Thomson answered matter-of-factly.
“I agree,” Alexis nodded.
“Now, I believe you would like to know why I called you in,” Thomson said folding his hands and setting them on his desk. “I’ve heard that you think you are only being put on the front page because of your father.”
“I’m not ungrateful or anything, but it’s weird for a new reporter to have her stories on the front page of any part of the paper,” Alexis explained.
“I’m going to be blunt with you. I don’t like your father. I allowed you to work here, because I felt sorry for you. Working under a man such as David Moore is not an easy task”
“I don’t want to be a charity case,” Alexis said.
“You no longer are. That’s why I have called you to my office. You are a very impressive writer and a fresh face at an old establishment.”
“Do you really mean that?”
“I never say anything I don’t mean,” Thomson smiled. “I enjoyed your stories and your interview with Henin-Hardenne.”
“Thank you.”
“I understand that Safin lost early, but I would’ve preferred some type of contact with him. Maybe a quote about his loss or being back at Roland Garros,” Thomson said. “He was no where in your stories. It was like he was never there.”
“He barely was. The man was impossible to deal with. I have a feeling I will never be able to get an interview with him,” Alexis sighed.
“That’s not the sort of attitude I am looking for, Alexis,” Thomson said. “You can get an interview with him, and you will. But until then, you will continue to write stories but now about the grass court season. You have two weeks before Wimbledon to regain the hype you created for the French Open. There’s a tournament called Stella Artois in Queens this week. Some of best players will be there.”
“So I will be covering Stella Artois then?”
“Your press badge will be on your desk by the end of the day, along with a schedule of play, players list, and their statistics. You will go straight to Queens tomorrow with Isabelle Holloway as your photographer,” Thomson informed as he shuffled some papers on his desk into neat piles.
“What about Neil Harman?”
“Harman will be traveling to Germany to cover the other grass court tournament.”
“By himself?”
“He’ll get a photographer, but there’s no need for two reporters at a week long tournament such as Halle or Stella Artois,” Thomson explained.
“I understand,” Alexis nodded.
“It was a pleasure to speak with you. I’m glad you have a better understanding of your position now,” Thomson said shaking her hand as they stood up.
“I will not disappoint you,” Alexis replied and began to walk out of his office.
“Oh, and Moore,” Thomson called.
“Yes?” Alexis said almost out the door.
“I want that interview with Safin by the end of Wimbledon.”
“I’m on it.”
*****
“What happened?” Izzy asked as soon as Alexis returned to her cubicle.
“We’re being sent to Queens to cover the Stella Artois tournament for the rest of the week. That was all,” Alexis said.
“That’s it?”
“That’s it. Could you do me a favor and get me a cup of coffee?” Alexis asked. “My head’s killing me.”
“Sure, I’ll be back soon,” Izzy chirped and disappeared.
After getting rid of Izzy, Alexis walked over to Neil’s desk. He had fallen back to sleep with his mouth open, pouring drool onto his keyboard.
“Neil, wake up,” Alexis said as she gently nudged him.
“Huh? What?” Neil mumbled waking up.
“You told Thomson, didn’t you? About my apprehensions?” Alexis asked.
“Yes, because I was worried you were losing confidence in yourself,” Neil said rubbing his eyes. “Are you mad?”
“I was at first, but I’m not anymore,” Alexis said hugging his sleepy form. “Thanks, Neil.”
“Anytime.”
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Post by Addie on Jul 25, 2006 9:29:06 GMT 3
Chapter 8
“Alexis, wake up!” Izzy shouted as she shook Alexis in her bed. “We’re supposed to be out of here in ten minutes.”
“Huh? What’s going on?” Alexis muttered as she pulled the covers over her face.
“You slept in, and we have to leave really soon,” Izzy answered as she pulled back Alexis’ covers to her feet. “So get up!”
“Wait? How soon is ‘really soon’?” Alexis asked sitting up in bed.
“Ten minutes, probably nine now. Get a move on,” Izzy called as she walked out of the room.
“Shit! Shit!” Alexis said to herself as she fell out of bed awkwardly. “How am I going to get ready in ten minutes?”
Swinging back and forth as she walked, Alexis finally stumbled into the bathroom. Looking into the mirror above the sink, Alexis shook her head in disgust. Her hair resembled a bird’s nest, and her make up, which she had forgotten to take off the night before, was smudged under her eyes.
“How am I going to pull this off?” Alexis groaned as she stared down at the sink.
“You’re only reporting a tennis tournament, not doing a photo shoot for Cosmopolitan,” Izzy laughed as she walked into the bathroom. “I’m just wearing jeans and a t-shirt.”
“It’s easier for you. You’re a photographer, but I have to go up to these people and talk to them. It’s embarrassing for the Times to have me running around looking like a cocaine addict,” Alexis replied as she rubbed mascara from under her eyes onto a tissue.
“What other choice do you have?”
“I hate when you’re right,” Alexis said glaring at Izzy as she smiled knowingly in the doorway.
After Izzy had left, Alexis brushed her teeth and put on deodorant. Walking into her bedroom, Alexis brushed her hair and put it into a ponytail behind her head. Grabbing a pair of black sweatpants and a blue, Columbia University t-shirt, Alexis got dressed quickly and grabbed her laptop bag. Jogging into the living room, she tapped Izzy on the shoulder, and they were off.
As Izzy drove them to Queens, Alexis stared at the surroundings beyond London. Driving along, Izzy pointed out familiar bars and restaurants. Smiling to herself, Alexis was surprised Izzy had such knowledge of where the best bars were located.
“So, what’s the plan boss?” Izzy asked.
“Well, I thought we would catch the players practicing. Afterwards, we’ll watch one of the top player’s matches,” Alexis explained.
“Ooo. Is Rafa playing?” Izzy asked excitedly.
“Come again?” Alexis asked with an arched eyebrow.
“Rafael Nadal? You haven’t heard the nickname?”
“No, but I’ll take note of it,” Alexis said rolling her eyes. “You like that guy?”
“I thought I made that clear at Roland Garros. Yes, I do like him. His body is beyond gorgeous!”
“He does have a good body, I’ll give him that. But what about his face?”
“He’s dark and handsome,” Izzy defended.
“I don’t know about that.”
“Well, I’m sorry he’s no Marat Safin. By the way, how is your beloved fighting partner?”
“How should I know?”
“I’m surprised he hasn’t called you. I can’t see any reason why he wouldn’t ask for your number,” Izzy teased and broke into laughter.
“Oh, shut up! Hey, but you know what? I do know one thing about Nadal you might like to know,” Alexis said with a vengeful smile on her face.
“And what would that be all-knowing one?”
“He’s got a girlfriend!”
“Oh, you, ugh!” Izzy said and went back to staring intently at the road in front of her.
“That shut you up,” Alexis laughed.
“Are you always such a dream crusher?”
“I must get it from my father,” Alexis shrugged.
“I can’t believe you call him your father still. At least, I wouldn’t after the things you’ve told me.”
“He’s all I’ve got.”
“Why don’t you call your mother? You could renew the family ties that brought you together in the first place,” Izzy suggested.
“I can’t.”
“Of course you can. All you have to do is dial her up of the phone,” Izzy said as they pulled into the parking lot on the tournament grounds.
“I just can’t,” Alexis said slinging the strap of her laptop case around her shoulder.
“Why?”
“I don’t have her number. I don’t even know where she lives,” Alexis whispered and covered her face with her hands.
“You can’t be serious. What about the birthday cards? There was an address on them I’m sure.”
“There was never any return address,” Alexis mumbled as she shook her head in her hands. “When I said she left us, she really did leave us. She never wanted my father to find her.”
“I’m sorry,” Izzy said placing a hand on Alexis’ quivering shoulder. “Are you crying?”
“No,” Alexis answered quickly and looked out the car window to avoid Izzy’s eyes.
“You are crying. I never thought I’d see that out of you.”
“I’m not crying,” Alexis said as she turned to face Izzy.
“Okay, maybe your eyes aren’t red or wet yet, but you were going to cry,” Izzy replied.
“But I didn’t,” Alexis said. “Let’s get out of this car and to the practice courts. You want to see your precious Rafa, remember?”
“Right,” Izzy agreed and got out of the car with Alexis. “Oh, I forgot to mention something. Someone’s going to help us out this week.”
“Really? I guess Thomson changed his mind about having another reporter on the job,” Alexis said as they walked to the gates to get in.
“She’s not really a reporter. She’s more here to help you out, since you can’t be in two places at once,” Izzy explained. “She’s been working as a reporter for tennis for years, but she’s never made any real contribution.”
“So, Thomson uses her to get coffee for the other reporters on staff?”
“Basically. But don’t feel too sorry for her. I never really liked her,” Izzy commented.
“Why is that?”
“I don’t want to make up your opinion of her. I’ll let you form your own,” Izzy replied.
“Where are we meeting her?”
“We were supposed to call her when we got here. I’ll call her now,” Izzy said taking her cell phone out of her pocket and dialing the woman’s number.
“While you do that, I’m going to see who’s practicing. I’ll meet you by the courts,” Alexis said and started walking towards the sounds of tennis balls resonating against racket strings.
Smiling at her luck, Alexis found a bench to sit on next to the court where Andy Roddick and Andre Agassi were practicing. Typing away at her laptop, Alexis noted that the new and old of American tennis were both playing together in a friendly manner. This practice in itself would make an excellent article. It wouldn’t hurt either that the girls who followed Andy would eat it up. Andy was one of the more attractive players on tour in her opinion, but she had heard many rumors that he was rude and ignorant.
“Alexis, there’s someone you need to meet,” Izzy said waking Alexis out of her reporting zone.
“Oh, sorry. I was out of it for a moment,” Alexis apologized twisting around to meet their assistant for the rest of the Stella Artois tournament.
“This is Sara,” Izzy introduced.
Switching her gaze to the woman beside Izzy, Alexis found a pair of dark brown, almost black, eyes staring down at her. With black hair and a stern face, Alexis almost felt a little immature in front of her. But after a few minutes, Alexis was pleasantly surprised that she acted younger than her features portrayed.
“Nice to meet you, Sara,” Alexis greeted shaking her hand.
“It’s nice to meet you, too. I’ve heard around the sports cubicles that you’re quite the writer,” Sara said sitting down on the bench beside Alexis.
“Oh, that’s sweet of you to say.”
“But it’s the truth,” Sara smiled.
“Thanks,” Alexis blushed.
“Well, I’m going to let you guys get acquainted. I’ll be taking pictures,” Izzy said and left.
“So, where did you got to college?”
“You mean uni? I went to the University of Durham,” Sara answered. “I’m guessing you went to Columbia from your shirt.”
“Yeah. So, you’ve always lived in the UK?”
“Pretty much. And you’ve always lived in the States?”
“Until now.”
“It’s your first time in London? I hope Izzy has been showing you around.”
“Oh, I’ve seen the usual tourist sites. You know, Buckingham Palace and the sort,” Alexis answered as she typed on her laptop.
“Ah, man! You haven’t really seen London. How about the clubs?”
“No, we haven’t had a lot of time,” Alexis replied.
“Then I’ll show you around those. We can go tonight,” Sara exclaimed.
“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.”
“I won’t keep you out too late. And Izzy can come if she wants, though I doubt she will,” Sara said rolling her eyes.
“I don’t want to be an inconvenience.”
“You won’t be. It’s too bad we hadn’t met sooner. We’ll have lots of fun together,” Sara said patting Alexis’ shoulder.
“Are you sure?”
“I’m positive, Alexis.”
“Then I’ll take you up on your offer,” Alexis smiled.
After their plans were confirmed for the night, Alexis and Sara continued to talk about everything except for the tennis in front of them. Alexis even found herself shutting her laptop. Sara’s family resembled Alexis’ with only a father and herself growing up. But Sara had been lucky enough to have a father who was obsessed with her accomplishments.
“He was so proud when I got the job at the Times. Although I’m not climbing the ranks yet, I’m determined to just to see his face when I do,” Sara explained.
“Hey, you guys!” Izzy greeted as she walked to their bench. “How’d the notes go, Alexis?”
“Oh, crap! I didn’t take many. But it’s only a practice,” Alexis shrugged. “Sara and I were talking the whole time.”
“Sounds like fun,” Izzy said flatly giving Alexis a strange look.
“We’ve decided to go out tonight, since you haven’t showed her around the clubs yet,” Sara informed. “Do you want to come?”
“No, I’ve got work to do and so does Alexis,” Izzy replied coldly looking at Alexis.
“We can finish our work before we leave,” Alexis said.
“I’ll help you guys finish,” Sara volunteered.
“No, thanks,” Izzy said but saw Alexis give her a look and added, “I appreciate the offer though.”
“Suit yourself,” Sara said and turned back to Alexis. “Let’s go see some tennis. Maybe a few hot tennis players.”
“Sounds like fun,” Alexis said and smiled as she put away her laptop. “Let’s go, Izzy.”
“Hmmm,” Izzy muttered as she followed behind Sara and Alexis.
Izzy was already regretting that she hadn’t told Alexis earlier about Sara, but she thought Alexis would have figured Sara out. Gripping her camera straps tightly, Izzy knew this wasn’t going to turn out good.
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Post by Addie on Jul 28, 2006 9:13:10 GMT 3
Chapter 9
Hugging three bags of groceries to her chest, Izzy arrived at Alexis and hers apartment. Looking desperately at the grocery bags and the purse hanging on her shoulder, Izzy groaned loudly. Her keys were inside the purse, and she didn’t want to drop the grocery bags on the dirty floor of the apartment building. Staring at the door in front of her, she almost jumped in excitement when she heard voices from inside.
“Alexis! Open the door, it’s Izzy,” she shouted and waited patiently.
But as the minutes ticked away, Izzy grew more impatient and agitated, not to mention her arms were now killing her. Listening closely, Izzy was sure it wasn’t a television she was hearing.
“ALEXIS!” Izzy shouted louder than she had ever heard herself yell in her life.
“I’m coming. I’m coming,” Izzy heard Alexis say as she opened the door to their apartment.
“What the hell were you doing? Couldn’t you hear me yelling out there for the last five minutes?” Izzy asked as she pushed past Alexis and walked to the kitchen.
“I’m so sorry, Izzy. We were working on the story for tomorrow’s paper,” Alexis explained as she began to help Izzy put away the groceries.
“We?” Izzy asked and turned around to face Alexis.
“Don’t you remember? Sara said she would come over and help us so we can go out later tonight,” Alexis replied.
“You’re going out later tonight, not me,” Izzy said coldly as she continued to put away groceries.
“Why aren’t you coming?”
“I got over that partying phase a long time ago. Besides, I’ve already told you how I feel about Sara.”
“You told me you didn’t like her, but you never told me why,” Alexis said putting her hands on her hips. “Would you like to tell me why you hate her so much? It’s not like you to keep grudges.”
“You wouldn’t believe me.”
“Yes, I would. Tell me, Izzy. You’re one of the only friends I have. In London and in the world.”
“You see,” Izzy began to explain, but as soon as she heard footsteps, she stopped.
“What are you guys talking about?” Sara asked as she sauntered into the kitchen.
“I was just trying to get Izzy to come out with us tonight,” Alexis explained and turned back to Izzy. “I don’t want to leave you alone. Maybe I should stay home.”
“Oh, c’mon. Izzy wouldn’t mind. Would you, Izzy?” Sara asked.
“Go out and have fun. You’re only young once,” Izzy said taking a can of soda out of the refrigerator.
“Good. We need to get back to work then, Alexis,” Sara said.
“I’ll be there in a second. I’m thirsty,” Alexis smiled and watched as Sara walked away.
“Izzy, I need to know why you don’t like her. What if she does the same thing to me?”
“You’re too smart to fall for it. But please be careful,” Izzy pleaded.
“She’s not a monster, Izzy. I’m starting to think you’re overreacting for no reason.”
“Just remember what I said.”
*****
“Alexis, either wake up now, or I’m leaving you behind,” Izzy said as she stood at the foot of Alexis’ bed for the second time that week.
After Alexis and Sara had finished their work last night, they had left the house in a wave of sparkly, skimpy outfits and make up. Izzy on the other hand had stayed home to read. At around two in the morning, Alexis had stumbled into the apartment, mumbled a few words to Izzy, and walked into her bedroom. A few minutes later, Izzy had heard a loud thud as Alexis passed out onto her bed face first.
Only five hours later, Izzy was struggling to wake her up. She couldn’t believe how drunk Sara had gotten Alexis. Although Alexis acted mature, there were a few things she still had to learn.
“Izzy, what time is it?” Alexis finally asked with her eyes still shut.
“It’s seven o’clock. We leave in 30 minutes.”
“Wake me up in 20 minutes,” Alexis mumbled.
“Alexis, I love you, but I’m not going to put us in the same rush as yesterday,” Izzy sighed.
“Fine,” Alexis mumbled as she threw off her bed sheets. “I’m up. Are you happy now?”
“Yes, I am,” Izzy answered as she followed Alexis to the bathroom. “You’re a young reporter starting out. You’ve made a great start, but you need to keep it up.”
“Yeah, whatever. You know, I took care of myself just fine before I knew you. Sometimes I just need a release. I’m only 23,” Alexis said as she washed her face.
“But you’ll be 24 soon, and there are a lot of readers depending on you. They want to read the best articles, and they expect them from you. Not from a drunk, party girl.”
“You’re right. But Sara’s crazy. The girl can do shots all night long,” Alexis giggled.
“I’m sure she can,” Izzy said and rolled her eyes. “I’ll leave you to get ready.”
“Thanks.”
Two hours later, Alexis and Izzy were at Stella Artois already up to their eyeballs in sweaty, hot tennis players practicing for their third round matches. But looking around, Alexis noticed something was wrong. Instead of Sara looking over Alexis’ shoulder, she was no where to be seen. She hadn’t even called to say she would be late.
“You noticed, too,” Izzy said when she saw Alexis looking around.
“She should have called if she was going to be late. My pet peeve number one: people who are late.”
“It’s unprofessional, but that’s Sara,” Izzy sighed as she took a picture of Andy Murray volleying. “How old is Murray?”
“Too young for you,” Alexis teased.
“A girl can dream,” Izzy laughed. “But seriously, where’s our coffee girl?”
“I have no idea, but I’m starting to get mad.”
“At your best friend?”
“My best friend? I’m sorry Izzy, but you’re my best friend whether you like it or not,” Alexis smiled.
“I’m touched,” Izzy laughed.
“You should be,” Alexis said as her cell phone began to ring. “That’d better be my coffee.”
Getting up from where they were seated, Alexis opened her phone to find it wasn’t Sara. Instead of Sara’s upbeat, high-pitched voice, it was Neil’s low, monotone voice.
“Hello?”
“Hello, Alexis. How is my favorite Yankee today?”
“I’m fine. How are you?” Alexis asked.
“I’m alive.”
“How’s Germany?”
“German.”
“Very descriptive, Neil,” Alexis laughed. “So, what’s going on?”
“Your favorite person in the world just lost,” Neil answered.
“Marat? He lost? Last time I checked on my computer, he was winning.”
“You were following his match, huh?”
“And everybody else’s,” Alexis quickly added.
“Uh huh, sure,” Neil chuckled.
“I could’ve sworn he had that match,” Alexis commented.
“That’s the thing with Marat, you never know what he’ll do,” Neil sighed. “Too bad, because he’s got all that talent.”
“Hmmm,” Alexis replied. “Thanks for calling.”
“No problem. I’m bored out here without my two girls on my arms.”
“We’ll be working together again soon. Wimbledon is in two weeks, and you’ll be back next week.”
“I can’t wait. Talk to you soon, Alexis.”
“You, too,” Alexis said as she put away her cell phone.
*****
Putting away his own cell phone, Neil looked down at his watch. Squinting at the tiny hands on his wrist, he was surprised to see it was past lunch. Picking up his laptop bag and signaling to the Times photographer, he walked towards the gates to leave. Today he wasn’t going to eat greasy, sugary concession stand food. If he ate one more burger, he was going to burst, exorcist style.
With the young photographer at his heels, they walked into a small café a block from the tournament grounds. It seemed that the players had had the same idea for lunch that day. Observing the tables nearby his, Neil noticed that among the best of the players was Roger Federer. Smiling to himself, he couldn’t believe how close he was to an interview any tennis reporter would kill for.
But considering his rumbling stomach, Neil only waved at him before returning to his menu. Minutes later, a shadow fell over his table. Something or someone was blocking the sun from coming to where he sat. Glancing up over his menu, he almost threw it into the air. Standing in front of him, with a gloomy expression on his face, was Marat Safin.
“You’re from the Times, right? Neil Harman?” Marat asked.
“Yes, I am. This is a surprise,” Neil managed to say as he put down his menu. “I’m sorry about your loss today. I know it doesn’t mean much.”
“Thank you. At least you’ll have something to write about,” Marat said as he tried to smile, but he couldn’t manage to fake one. “Where are your usual colleagues?”
“You mean, Alexis?”
“Either one of them,” Marat replied trying to be indifferent.
“Well, they’re in London covering Stella Artois. I’ll be sure to tell them you were looking for them,” Neil said and added, “especially Alexis.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing. I know you and Alexis have a special bond,” Neil laughed.
“Yeah, special,” Marat muttered. “I’ll see you at Wimbledon.”
“I’ll be sure to tell Alexis that,” Marat heard Neil say as he walked out of the café.
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Post by Addie on Aug 2, 2006 4:17:38 GMT 3
Chapter 10
“2 a.m. again?” Alexis heard a voice ask as she entered her darkened apartment.
“Who’s that?” Alexis asked as she closed the apartment door.
“Michael Jackson,” the voice snapped. “Who do you think it is? It’s Izzy.”
“Oh, sorry. I’m a little disoriented at the moment,” Alexis said as she switched on a lap near the door.
“I can see that,” Izzy commented as Alexis fell into the armchair next to the couch. “You know you can’t be out partying like this next week.”
“I’m not that bad. Besides, there’s no tournament this week. Wimbledon is a week away.”
“But Thomson is going to expect you to keep up the hype you created last week with Stella Artois,” Izzy explained sitting down on the couch. “By the way, you look like hell.”
“Thanks. You would look the same way if you would go out with us once and awhile.”
“Tempting, but I’ll have to pass. Although, hurling my guts out into the toilet, having a splitting headache, and walking like there’s an earthquake sounds like a lot of fun,” Izzy smiled as she got up from the couch and walked to the kitchen.
“What are you doing?” Alexis asked rubbing the mascara out from underneath her eyes.
“I’m making you some coffee. It’s Monday, and we have work in seven hours,” Izzy replied. “I don’t understand why you hang out with that girl.”
“I don’t understand why you don’t hang out with her. She’s a very sweet and caring girl.”
“Doesn’t it bother you that she was late five times last week?”
“She said she got stuck in traffic,” Alexis said shrugging her shoulders.
“Five times? We went to Queens by the same road. Did we ever hit traffic?” Izzy asked as she turned on the coffee maker.
“No, but…”
“But nothing. She lied Alexis, and you fell for it.”
“Are you jealous of her or something?” Alexis asked looking over at Izzy in the kitchen.
“Why would I be jealous of her?”
“You are jealous of her,” Alexis said and straightened up in her chair. “You’re jealous, because I’m spending more time with her than I am with you.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Uh, huh. Whatever you say,” Alexis said smiling.
“You know, Alexis, you don’t know everything. I know you think you’ve got life and people all figured out, but you still have a lot to learn,” Izzy shouted as she stomped out of the kitchen and walked towards her bedroom. “Oh, and I almost forgot. Your father called.”
“My what?” Alexis asked as Izzy slammed the door of her bedroom.
Sitting in the semi-darkness of the living room by herself, Alexis dropped her head back on the top of the chair. She now had to call her dad, and tell him what? She was making an impact here, but she was a sports reporter? For tennis? Alexis could already imagine his screams and rants. For sure, he would call the editor, complain, and get her fired.
“Not this time, Dad,” Alexis said to herself. “You’re not going to ruin my life anymore.”
*****
Tapping her pencil against the wall of her cubicle, Alexis stared straight ahead at her computer screen in agony. She had been trying to come up with a good sentence to start her column for an hour now. Nothing seemed to be working correctly in her mind at the moment. Maybe she was still hung over, or it could be the fact that her roommate and best friend hated her at the moment.
Groaning and rubbing her pounding temples, Alexis looked around the wall of her cubicle. Izzy was at her computer, hair pulled up into a messy ponytail, and was cropping her photographs from the last day of Stella Artois. Clearing her throat, Alexis tried to get her attention. She knew Izzy could hear her, but she hadn’t spoken to Alexis all day. Throwing her hands into the air, Alexis rolled her computer chair back over to her desk.
A few minutes later, she heard Izzy get up and retrieve her purse. Turning around, Alexis got up and met Izzy in the aisle between cubicles.
“Are you going to lunch?” Alexis asked.
“Yes.”
“Hold on a second. I’ll go with you,” Alexis said reaching down to grab her purse.
“That’s okay. I’d rather go by myself,” Izzy said coldly and walked away.
Standing in the aisle by herself, Alexis was hurt and humiliated. She knew Izzy was mad, but she didn’t know she was this mad. Throwing her purse back down on the floor, she sat down on her chair and began to stare at her computer screen once again.
“What was that all about?”
“Neil! Where have you been all day?” Alexis asked jumping out of her chair and hugging him.
“I just arrived back at work. I came straight from the airport so I could see my favorite girls,” Neil answered as they pulled apart. “What’s going on with you and Izzy?”
“I think she’s jealous of Sara.”
“Izzy? Jealous? And who is Sara?” Neil asked.
“I know, it doesn’t sound like Izzy. But she has been acting really weird towards myself and Sara.”
“Sara who works here?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“Sara Holloway is not the kind of girl I thought you would get along with,” Neil replied.
“Why wouldn’t I get along with her?”
“She’s a party girl. To be honest, she isn’t the greatest reporter, and she’s a spoiled brat,” Neil said as he shrugged his shoulders.
“That’s harsh, Neil.”
“You wanted to know why, and I told you,” Neil replied. “But let’s forget about her. How are you? I read your columns while I was in Germany.”
“And?”
“They were impressive as always,” Neil smiled and patted her on the shoulder.
“Thank you,” Alexis said blushing. “I read yours as well. I was very interested by the one detailing the players’ activities off court.”
“You were interested in all the players or just a certain one?” Neil asked with a teasing smile on his face.
“No one in particular,” Alexis replied as she began to fidget with things on her desk.
“Sure. I’ll leave you to your desk rearrangement,” Neil said pecking Alexis on the cheek and began to walk to his desk. “Oh, and if you’re wondering, Marat did say something about you.”
“What?” Alexis asked a little too quickly and too excitedly.
“He’ll see you at Wimbledon.”
Smiling to herself, Alexis sat down at her desk. If he thought she was going to apologize, he had another thing coming to him. Going back to work, Alexis had only been working for a few minutes when Sara walked up behind her.
“So, what are your plans for tonight?” Sara asked.
“Well, they don’t involve alcohol or clubs,” Alexis said as she continued to type.
“Why?”
“I think I’m going to hang out with Izzy. I’ve been abandoning her a lot lately.”
“Suit yourself,” Sara shrugged and walked back to her cubicle.
After Sara had left the area, Alexis finally found her rhythm again. Typing away at the computer, she was feeling great until her phone started to ring off the hook.
“Hello?” Alexis asked gruffly.
“You shouldn’t answer your work phone as if you’re pissed. It’s not very professional,” David Moore admonished.
“Dad?”
“I wouldn’t usually call you from work, but you never called me back last night.”
“I didn’t want to bother you. What’s going on?”
“I wanted to know how the job is going,” David replied.
“I’ve been in London for four weeks. You didn’t even call to see how my flight was, to see if I was alive.”
“You’re being very ungrateful.”
“Ungrateful? What have you ever done for me?” Alexis said raising her voice.
“You’re being ridiculous. But I’ll forget that and pretend it never happened,” David said. “How is work going?”
“Like you care, but my stories have been featured on the front page of my section and the front page of the newspaper,” Alexis replied.
“What are you working in?”
“I’m a, I’m a, I’m a sports reporter. I cover tennis. The editor thinks I have real talent, Dad, and…” Alexis tried to explain.
“Sports? Sports?! My daughter is a sports reporter?!” David yelled over the phone. “No wonder you were on the front page of your section. There’s not a lot of talent in sports reporting.”
“I was on the front page of the newspaper, too. And it does so take a lot of talent to be a sports reporter. And you know what?” Alexis yelled back. “I love my job! I love sports! And the editor loves me and thinks I can go farther than even you.”
“We’ll see. Goodbye dear. I hope you’re in a better mood next time I call,” David replied calmly.
“Oh, when will that be? When I get married?”
“Bye, Alexis.”
“Ugh,” Alexis groaned as she slammed the phone down.
Getting up from her desk, she pushed her chair in and walked out of her cubicle. Stomping down the aisles, she found herself at Sara’s cubicle. Sara was sitting there idly while she painted her fingernails a bright shade of red.
“Is your offer still good?” Alexis asked.
“To go clubbing? Of course,” Sara answered as she blew on a freshly painted nail.
“Good, because I need a drink.”
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Post by Addie on Aug 3, 2006 2:30:43 GMT 3
Chapter 11
It was five in the morning as the sports reporters assigned to Wimbledon packed into the conference room of the London Times office building. Sitting at the front of the room with Neil and Izzy at her left, Alexis observed the other reporters enter the room as if they were being pulled by an invisible rope. None of them wanted to be here this early, but Wimbledon was starting today. And whether they liked it or not, Alexis had been assigned head reporter and group leader.
After the reporters had finally sat down, Robert Thomson strolled into the room with his usual confidence and authority. Walking to the front of the room, he only had to wait for a few seconds before the murmurs died down. Smiling at Alexis, she nodded back, and he began to speak.
“I know that none of you wanted to be here this early, except for a precarious rookie in the front row,” Thomson said as he winked at Alexis, “but today begins one of the biggest sporting events in England. You are representing the Times, and you should be proud and eager to protect our reputation as one of the best in London. And that’s all I have to say. I hope you enjoyed your life last week, because you won’t have a life for the next fortnight.”
And with same air he had walked in with, Robert Thomson bowed his head and walked out of the room with a brisk pace. As soon as he was gone, the reporters continued their conversations as they grabbed their bags. Alexis, Neil, and Izzy followed suit, but without Izzy talking to Alexis. She was still upset over the conversation that had happened a week ago.
“So, boss,” Neil said as he stretched his arms above his head, “what are we doing first?”
“The Wimbledon grounds don’t open for awhile, so I thought we’d organize where we’re all going to go,” Alexis answered.
“Very good idea.”
“I hope so, because my ass is on the line.”
*****
At around noon, Alexis finally had time to sit down. Even though she had assigned places for people to be before they had left, half of the group had been asking where to be for the last two hours. But falling down in a chair located inside the press room, she closed her eyes and tried to drown out the sounds of laptops and people talking.
“Shouldn’t you be working?” a voice asked above her.
“Who says I’m not working?” Alexis replied as she lifted her head and opened her eyes.
“Usually when you work, you’re chasing after athletes and insulting them,” Marat said as he sat down in the chair next to Alexis.
“What are you doing here?” Alexis asked narrowing her eyes.
“I had interviews to attend to with the Russian press, like it’s any of your business.”
“Interviews? You? I thought you were too good to do interviews with us common folk,” Alexis said with a hint of anger in her voice.
“I was a little upset after that loss, but you wouldn’t understand that. Do you even have a heart?”
“No, I got hungry one day and fried it up. You know us Americans, we love our food fried and swimming in grease.”
“If you weren’t such a bitch all the time, you’d actually be funny,” Marat commented.
“Same to you,” Alexis replied staring at his head.
“Like the new haircut?” Marat asked rubbing his hand atop his newly shaved head.
“Oh, yes. It’s lovely,” Alexis said showing off her best fake smile. “Does that make you feel better about yourself? All the compliments?”
“If I wanted compliments, I would’ve have cut my hair earlier.”
“Yeah, whatever,” Alexis muttered rolling her eyes.
“Well, I can see you don’t want me around so I’ll leave. It was nice, no, interesting to talk to you,” Marat said standing up to leave.
“No, wait,” Alexis said grabbing his arm. As she did this, she could feel chills go up her arm and to her head. It made speaking seem impossible. “I, oh shit, forget it.”
“No, what is it?” Marat asked. Alexis’ hand was still on his arm, but he couldn’t complain. Her hand was so soft and cool.
“I need a…never mind. I’d rather be fired than have to interview you,” Alexis snapped taking her hand off his arm.
“It wouldn’t kill you to be nice for longer than a minute,” Marat said taking his arm back. “And just so you know, if you would’ve asked, I would’ve said yes.”
Before she could respond, he walked away and into the crowd of fans and reporters. Sitting alone once again, Alexis waited till her head could clear. But every time she thought about him, the tingling in her body returned and left her immobile. How could she let a guy affect her like that? After all that had happened with Bryan, she couldn’t believe she was letting another jerk mess with her head.
Standing up from her chair, she grabbed her laptop carrier and rushed out of the press building. What she needed right now was to find a good story and immerse herself in it. Searching long enough, she finally found what she was looking for. The king of Wimbledon himself, Roger Federer, was practicing while his longtime girlfriend, Mirka, stood by. This is who she wanted to talk to, the woman who had stood by Federer’s side since the beginning.
Walking up slowly and cautiously, Alexis didn’t want to scare her off. When she made it to her side, she took out her notebook and pretended to take notes. It seemed to be working, because Mirka took no notice of Alexis. A few minutes later, Alexis was ready to make her move.
“Hi, I’m Alexis Moore,” she said outstretching her hand to Mirka. “You’re Mirka, aren’t you?”
“Yes, I am,” she replied shaking Alexis’ hand.
“I’m a sports reporter with the London Times. I’m in charge of our reporters recovering Wimbledon at this year’s fortnight.”
“Nice to meet you,” Mirka replied turning her head in time to see Roger hit a forehand.
“Could I have a few minutes of your time?” Alexis asked. “I promise not to inconvenience you in any way.”
“I suppose that would be fine.”
“Good, thank you very much. I always work with a different angle than most reporters. Although your boyfriend has undoubtedly played amazingly for his titles, he must receive a great amount of support from you,” Alexis said.
“Yes, that is what a girlfriend does.”
“But it must be difficult to deal with the hours and hours of tennis while you sit on the sidelines. That’s why I would love to interview. It would be nothing too big or time consuming to you, but it would give a greater understanding about the man we know as the king of tennis at the moment.”
“I don’t really talk to the press. It’s been a long time since I’ve given an interview and never without Roger,” Mirka explained. “I don’t want to take away the attention from him.”
“I completely understand that,” Alexis said taking notes in her head. “But I would really love it if you would consider my proposition.”
“I will think about it, but don’t count on it any time in the near future,” Mirka replied.
“Thank you. That’s all I ask. Here’s my card. You can call me at any of those three numbers,” Alexis explained handing Mirka her business card. “Have a good day.”
“You, too,” Mirka said as she pocketed Alexis’ card.
Making her way through the crowds to find an empty bench, Alexis sat down and took out her laptop. Typing away at her computer, she wrote down what Mirka had said about her duties as a girlfriend and not taking away from Roger. For now, she could use these quotes on an introductory piece about Roger for the next day’s paper. After finishing up the few notes she had gotten, Alexis stood up to see Izzy heading her direction.
“Do you want to go to lunch?” Izzy asked.
“You want to go to lunch with me?” Alexis asked in surprise.
“I think it’s time we talk. And besides, who wants to eat alone?” Izzy shrugged.
“I’ll go wherever you want to go,” Alexis said as they set out for a place to eat.
It didn’t take long for them to decide to eat at a small, Italian restaurant in Wimbledon Village. The first few minutes of the meal were deathly quiet. Izzy had busied herself in the tablecloth, and Alexis waited for her to come back to earth.
“I’m worried about you. That’s the main reason why I yelled at you that night,” Izzy said still staring at the tablecloth.
“But why? Why are you worried about me?”
“You’ve been drinking and partying a lot lately. And you started because of Sara. She’s not a good influence. When I first came here, she tried to use me to do her work. She would try to take the credit for my work. That’s why I can’t stand her or trust her,” Izzy explained.
“And you think she’s going to do the same to me?”
“Yes, I do. You’re a lot more talented than I was. I was almost fired, because Thomson thought I couldn’t do my job correctly,” Izzy said looking up finally.
“I’m sorry. You never told me,” Alexis said. “I guess I have been partying a lot. It was made worse when I talked to my dad last week. He was terrible.”
“Did you tell him that you were a sports reporter?”
“That’s why he went ballistic,” Alexis groaned.
“Hello again,” a voice sounded from behind them.
“You have got to be kidding me,” Alexis said as she looked up to see who it was. “Are you stalking me? I’m beginning to think you are.”
“This is a public place. People eat here,” Marat said. “We’ve met before. I never caught your name.”
“My name’s Izzy. It’s nice to see you again. Nice haircut,” Izzy replied.
“Thanks. Alexis said the same thing,” Marat commented.
“I really wish you wouldn’t call me by my first name,” Alexis said rubbing her forehead.
“I apologize. Miss Moore, it’s ‘miss’, right?”
“Yes,” Alexis snapped.
“Alexis, isn’t there something you would like to ask Marat?” Izzy said.
“Nope. Nothing at all,” Alexis replied picking up her menu.
“She’s already told me she doesn’t want an interview,” Marat said to Izzy.
“She might not want it, but she needs it,” Izzy muttered. “But thank you for coming to say ‘hi’.”
“It was nothing. You know how well Miss Moore and I get along,” Marat said, smiled, and walked out of the restaurant.
“Why are you being such a bitch? You need that interview!” Izzy said punching Alexis’ menu.
“I can’t stand him.”
“You can’t stand him, because you know that you like him.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Then you wouldn’t mind if I went for it,” Izzy smiled.
“Not at all. If you want him for a boyfriend, it’s your risk,” Alexis shrugged, but she could feel her stomach drop. Why was her body doing this to her?
“I didn’t say anything about a relationship. Maybe just a little….”
“Ewww! Izzy!” Alexis squealed.
“Haha. I knew that would get you!”
“Do what you want with him, but I don’t want to know.”
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Post by Addie on Aug 4, 2006 0:41:06 GMT 3
Chapter 12
“See, you can have fun without being completely pissed,” Izzy smiled as Alexis and Neil continued to laugh.
“Oh, I never doubted that,” Alexis said as she wiped a tear of joy from under her eye.
Eating at the Blue Elephant in London, Alexis, Neil, and Izzy were enjoying the authentic Thai cuisine and the interior design of the restaurant. The first two days of Wimbledon had come and gone, much to the excitement and relief of Alexis. An hour after the gates had closed, they had raced to the restaurant for a very late dinner.
“But do you know how you could have even more fun?” Izzy asked.
“How?”
“Find yourself a man,” Izzy giggled as she took a sip of her drink. “And you already have one interested in you without even trying.”
“And who would that be? The only guys I’ve talked to while I’ve been in London have been Neil and Thomson,” Alexis replied. “Ewww! Not Thomson?!”
“Ewww. No way! You really don’t know?”
“I have no idea,” Alexis shrugged.
“Marat!”
“Marat?”
“I’d have to agree with Alexis on that, Izzy,” Neil said looking equally perplexed. “I can’t remember one time where Alexis said anything relatively civil to him.”
“Exactly! That’s the reason why he likes you!” Izzy said hitting the table with her hand.
“Huh?” Neil and Alexis asked in unison.
“Think about it. Marat has always gotten what he wants when it comes to women. He’s never had to do anything to get a woman. All he has to do is smile, and their knees turned to putty,” Alexis explained.
“So?” Alexis asked.
“You’re the complete opposite! For the first time in his life, he has to chase rather than be chased. You’re different, and that’s why he keeps talking to you,” Izzy said.
“Well, this one girl he’s never going to catch,” Alexis said finishing her drink.
“You’ve got some wall built up, don’t you?” Izzy asked.
“What do you mean?”
“I think you like him, but you won’t admit.”
“That’s ridiculous!”
“Sure, whatever you say. I’m going to get a drink at the bar. Do you guys want anything?” Izzy asked standing up from their table.
“I’ll have a martini,” Alexis said looking at her empty glass.
“Anything for you, Neil?”
“No, thanks. I’m fine,” Neil answered.
“Can you believe that girl?” Alexis asked once Izzy was gone.
“Hmmm,” Neil replied.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“The more I think about it, the more it makes sense.”
“Marat liking me? Are you insane?”
“You sound like my wife,” Neil sighed.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it. Maybe you should go help Izzy with your drinks.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want to leave you here alone,” Alexis said trying to make eye contact with Neil, but he wouldn’t look at her.
“I’m sure. Go on now.”
Getting up from the table, Alexis pushed in her chair and started walking away. But halfway to the bar, she turned around to make sure Neil was still at the table. He was still there, but his head was in his hands. She wanted to go back to the table, but she knew that he needed to be alone right now.
Moving through the obstacle course of tables, diners, and waiters, Alexis finally arrived at the bar. Searching through the bodies at the bar, she finally found Izzy’s red hair at the end of the bar. But it was who was next to Izzy that stopped Alexis in her tracks. Looking down at her, laughing after a joke he had shared with Izzy, was Marat. Could she go anywhere without him being there?
Watching intently, Alexis started to feel a peculiar heat build up through her body. She couldn’t believe she was jealous of Izzy talking to Marat. She had already told Izzy to go for it the day before at lunch, but now she was regretting it. Smoothing her hair and fixing her top, Alexis walked over to the bar where they stood.
“Do you need any help with the drinks, Izzy?” Alexis asked pretending not to notice Marat.
“Yeah, I’d love some. But it seems Marat already offered,” Izzy answered gesturing towards Marat.
“Oh, you again. Are you sure you’re not stalking us?”
“Are you sure you’re not stalking me?” Marat returned.
“What reason do I have?”
“You’re the one who needs an interview,” Marat shrugged.
“I already told you that I didn’t.”
“She lied,” Izzy chirped.
“Thanks, Izzy,” Alexis said between gritted teeth.
“No problem. I’m going back to the table. You guys can finish this conversation by yourselves,” Izzy smiled taking her drink off the bar. “And Marat, you’re welcome to join us at our table.”
“That’s very nice of you, but I’d hate to upset Alexis,” Marat replied smiling at Alexis.
“How thoughtful,” Alexis muttered.
“Okay, then. Play nice,” Izzy said to Alexis.
“Your friend is very nice. She’s sociable and friendly. So, why is she friends with you?” Marat asked.
“Opposites attract?” Alexis shrugged and took a sip of her martini.
“Must be.”
“Listen, Marat. My editor told me to get an interview with you. Of course, I’m not exactly ecstatic about it. I really would appreciate it if you would say ‘yes’,” Alexis said after taking a deep breath. “What do you say?”
“No.”
“No?”
“No.”
“Why not? You said you would yesterday!” Alexis replied setting down her drink. What was he trying to do? Make her beg?
“I’m not so sure anymore. I don’t think you want it badly enough.”
“Who are you to say what I want and don’t want? Here’s how it goes. I interview you and tell your story. Everyone sees you’re not some playboy maniac, and I don’t get fired. We all live happily ever after,” Alexis said. “I promise to make you look better than you are.”
“You never stop, do you?” Marat smiled.
“I’m not going to pretend to like you, and you shouldn’t pretend you like me. If you want to take Izzy out for a date, go for it,” Alexis shrugged.
“Date Izzy? I’ve only talked to girl twice! A little early to plan a wedding, don’t you think?”
“Whatever. So, what do you think? Is it a deal?”
“Yes, but on one condition,” Marat replied.
“That would be?”
“I’ll give you the interview, if you let me take you out to dinner,” Marat replied with a devious smile on his face.
“Huh?”
“It’s a free meal. And you can interview me during dinner.”
“Is that it?”
“Oh, and I get to call you Alexis without dirty looks from you.”
“Fine. You’ve got a deal,” Alexis said stretching her hand out.
“I don’t usually make dates like this,” Marat laughed shaking her hand.
“It’s not a date.”
“Okay, not a date.”
“I’ll see you at seven tomorrow night,” Alexis said as she took her drink and walked away.
“I’ll see you then,” Marat replied with a victorious smile pasted across his face.
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Post by Addie on Aug 9, 2006 5:12:18 GMT 3
Chapter 13
Standing in front of her open closet doors, Alexis moved her clothes back and forth on their hangers. She couldn’t decide what to wear if her life depended on it. With only 45 minutes till she was supposed to meet Marat at The Ivy, she was desperate for any help she could find.
“Izzy, could you come in here?” Alexis called.
“Coming,” Izzy replied and walked into Alexis’ bedroom. “What’s up?”
“I have no idea how to ask you something without you making fun of me for the rest of my life, so I’m just going to say it,” Alexis sighed. “I can’t find anything to wear, and I need your help.”
“Aww, how cute! This is a date!” Izzy smiled clapping her hands in glee.
“It’s not a date. I just don’t know what to wear. It is The Ivy after all,” Alexis said turning away to look at her closet again as she began to blush.
“Oh, right. The Ivy,” Izzy teased pushing Alexis out of the way so she could go through her closet. “He sure is spending a lot of money for a business dinner.”
“I intend on paying for my own dinner and cab fare,” Alexis replied sitting down on the edge of her bed.
“The Ivy is really expensive. Are you sure you can afford it?”
“It’s not like the money is coming out of my pocket. The newspaper will gladly pay for it,” Alexis said picking up a nail file to work on her fingernails. “It is the interview Thomson wanted after all.”
“You’ll be thanking him later,” Izzy muttered taking a black cocktail dress out of Alexis’ closet.
“What was that?”
“Nothing,” Izzy smiled sweetly. “How about this dress?”
“Too short.”
“Too short? How short?”
“Above the knee.”
“You had no problem wearing it out before.”
“But I wouldn’t wear it on a first…,” Alexis said but stopped slapping her hand over her mouth.
“On a first date?” Izzy asked.
“No, I wouldn’t wear it on a first interview,” Alexis replied going back to her nails.
“Oh, so there will be more interviews with Mr. Safin?”
“No. You know what I meant.”
“Yeah, I do,” Izzy said rolling her eyes as she put away Alexis’ dress.
“Have you figured out my outfit yet?”
“What am I? A stylist? That’s not the best occupation for me,” Izzy replied pulling at her old, plaid pajama bottoms and extra-large t-shirt.
“I have no idea why I’m so concerned about what I’m wearing,” Alexis said getting up from her bed and walking to her closet. “Okay, something simple.”
“Maybe a little sexy?”
“Why should I look sexy for Marat?”
“You never know. Your future husband could be at The Ivy tonight, and you don’t want to look like an aging spinster,” Izzy explained.
“After Bryan, I don’t think I ever want to get married. You can’t trust people anymore.”
“Bryan? Who’s he?”
“Nevermind. I didn’t say anything.”
“Are you keeping something from me?” Izzy asked.
“Look,” Alexis sighed, “I haven’t had the best luck with relationships in the past. Can we please let the subject die? It’s hard to talk about.”
“Of course, dear,” Izzy said with kind eyes. “A cute pair of jeans are simple, possibly a dark wash for evening.”
“Good idea,” Alexis said taking a pair of dark wash, skinny jeans out of her closet and throwing them across the room to the bed. “Now what?”
“I love this short-sleeve, black turtleneck. It’s a thin material so you won’t get to hot,” Izzy said pulling the top out of Alexis’ closet.
“Good, good. Now all I need is a pair of shoes,” Alexis said looking at the bottom of her closet wear her shoes were scattered and tangled.
“The gold, strappy sandals will do nicely,” Izzy said throwing one shoe at Alexis and searching for the other. “Do you mind if I clean out your closet while you’re gone? Maybe I could straighten it out a bit.”
“Sure, just ignore the dead body behind the old shoe boxes,” Alexis said as she ran to the bathroom to get dressed.
“So your dad decided to visit?” Izzy asked.
“Haha, very funny,” Alexis called from the bathroom.
For the next ten minutes, all Izzy could hear as she cleaned and organized Alexis’ closet was the sounds of hair dryers and make up being unloaded from a bag. Stretching after being hunched over Alexis’ mess of a closet, she turned around to see Alexis walk out of the bathroom ready to go.
“Wow! Are you sure this isn’t a date?” Izzy asked as Alexis picked up her purse containing her notebook and pencil case.
“Like you said, I might meet my future husband,” Alexis smiled and said before she strutted out the door.
*****
Sitting at their table, Marat twirled his water glass between his fingers. Alexis wasn’t there yet, and he was beginning to wonder if she’d ever get there. But just as those thoughts blew through his head, he saw her sashay into the restaurant. Even amidst the glitzy décor of the restaurant and the chic-looking diners, Alexis outshined them. It wasn’t even the way she looked but the way she walked. There was an air about her of respectability and grace.
“I’m so sorry I’m late. I couldn’t get a cab. I eventually got one by throwing myself in front of it,” Alexis said, waking Marat from his gaze.
“That’s alright. I didn’t figure you’d stand me up. You need this interview as much as I do,” Marat replied setting his water glass back down on the table. “I haven’t ordered anything yet.”
“Can we start off with drinks? That will give me more time to interview you before our dinners come,” Alexis asked as she took a notebook and pencil out of her purse.
“That’s fine. Are you going to use the alcohol to get more answers out of me?” Marat asked and smiled.
“No, I’ll use it to take advantage of you later tonight,” Alexis teased as she flipped to an empty page in her notebook.
“Ooo, sassy. Bitchy by day, sassy by night.”
“I think I’ll ignore that comment.”
“What can I do for you two tonight?” their waiter asked as he came to their table.
“We’d like to start off with drinks,” Marat answered for them. “I’ll have a beer, Tsing Tao.”
“And I’ll have a mango martini,” Alexis said as the waiter took their order and left.
“Now what?” Marat asked.
“I interview you,” Alexis replied.
“Always so serious,” Marat sighed. “Do we have to?”
“Yes, that’s the only reason I agreed to meet you for dinner.”
“I will answer all your questions, but first, I’d like to know more about you.”
“But the interview is about you,” Alexis replied putting down her pencil.
“If you’re going to be asking me questions, I think it’s fair that I ask you questions,” Marat said leaning back in his chair and folding his arms across his chest.
“Fine. Ask away,” Alexis said leaning back herself.
“Where are you from?”
“New York City, born and raised.”
“How about your family? Any brothers or sisters?”
“I only have my dad, and he isn’t much to brag about,” Alexis answered rolling her eyes.
“So, you two don’t get along?”
“No. Can we move on to the next question please?”
“Of course,” Marat said leaning into the table as their waiter arrived with their drinks. “Boyfriend?”
“Nope.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know. I guess the guy couldn’t handle the fact I’m a bitch during the daytime,” Alexis teased.
“I didn’t mean anything by that comment. It was a joke. I admire the fact you don’t let people walk all over you,” Marat smiled from across the table.
“You’re not so bad yourself. Is my interview over now?”
“One last question,” Marat replied. “What do you think about me?”
“Hmmm,” Alexis mumbled. “You’re a very talented player, but your head is severely messed up. You can be an okay guy when you want to be. I don’t know. I don’t know you well enough to give you my full opinion.”
“Fair enough,” Marat said. “You can interview me now.”
“Thank you.”
Between sips of their drinks and bites of their dinners, Alexis asked Marat questions, and he answered them honestly and in detail. As her list of questions dwindled down, they seemed to be having more fun and less friction was present.
“I have to ask this question. I’m sorry, but millions of teenage girls want to know,” Alexis said. “Do you have a girlfriend?”
“Are you sure you’re not part of those millions of teenage girls?” Marat asked raising one of his eyebrows.
“I’m not a teenager.”
“How old are you?”
“I’m 24.”
“Well, you’re younger than me.”
“Just answer the question, Marat,” Alexis frowned.
“Uh, oh. There’s that frown again,” Marat teases. “No, I don’t have a girlfriend.”
“And one last question. What do you think about me?” Alexis asked and gave him an evil smile.
“I’m afraid to answer that question.”
“Chicken. And you call yourself a man.”
“Okay, you asked for it,” Marat said leaning in closer to Alexis. “You can write, really write. I’ve read your pieces, and you seemed really involved. But when you’re not writing, you seemed cut off from the world on purpose.”
“You’ve read my columns?” Alexis wheezed from the close proximity of Marat.
“Yes, I have. Are you surprised?”
“Yes,” Alexis said as their waiter set down the check.
At the same time, their hands settled on the check, with Marat’s hand under Alexis’. Turning to look at their hands and then each other, they didn’t say a word.
“My hand was there first. I’ll pay,” Marat whispered.
“I’d appreciate if you would let me pay half,” Alexis replied with her hand still on Marat’s and the two of them staring at each other.
“And I’d appreciate if you’d let me pay for the whole dinner, to make up for the fact that I made you go out with me for dinner.”
“You didn’t make me do anything,” Alexis whispered.
“Fine, I’ll let you pay half,” Marat said breaking their stare.
“Thank you,” Alexis said taking her hand off Marat’s so she could go through her purse.
Ten minutes later, Marat and Alexis were walking outside the restaurant together searching for a cab. Standing next to her, Marat had a sudden urge to wrap his arm around her waist. But he had to remember it was only a date and nothing more, at least for now. He knew if he wanted her to like him, he couldn’t rush her.
“Finally,” Alexis sighed as a cab pulled up to the curb. “How about your ride?”
“I can walk to my hotel from here,” Marat replied opening the door of the cab for her.
“Oh, okay,” Alexis said standing in between the car and the open door.
“When will my interview be in the paper?”
“At the end of the week.”
“Good, I can’t wait to see what you’ll do,” Marat said hesitating because he didn’t know how to end the evening. Should he shake her hand? Give her a hug? Kiss her cheek? But he didn’t have a chance to decide.
“Bye,” Alexis said steeping into the cab and closing the door.
Standing on the curb, Marat watched as Alexis’ car drove away. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Marat cursed himself for not doing something before she left. He should have done something, anything. He would have to wait, but she was worth it.
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Post by Addie on Aug 22, 2006 4:07:13 GMT 3
Chapter 14
Sighing to herself as she dropped her purse near the door, Alexis walked over to the couch and collapsed. Grabbing a throw pillow from under her feet, she threw it over her face and closed her eyes. From outside the protection of her pillow, she could hear the sounds of the air conditioner blowing and cars driving down below.
Throwing the pillow to the floor in vain, Alexis stared up at the ceiling memorizing the various cracks and dents covering it. Although surveying the ceiling was a mundane and boring task, it was better than thinking about what had happened only thirty minutes ago. She had never felt so uncomfortable standing before a man in her life. Of course, her father had regularly scared the living hell out of her, but this had been different.
Marat wasn’t a threat to her, or was he? Even before they had left the restaurant and were standing side by side waiting for a cab, Alexis had felt a pang in her stomach she had never felt before. Every time he had looked at her or leaned in towards her, it was as if someone was taking her stomach and twisting it into coils. And when their hands had touched, it had felt like a thousand bolts of electricity were being directed into her body.
Why would she be feeling this way? Was it possible she was falling for the Marat Safin? The booze-driven, playboy, quick-tempered Marat Safin? Well, that wasn’t exactly a fair assessment of him. During their dinner together, he had only had one beer and never said even one curse word. He had been courteous with the waiter, and he had even left a hefty tip. Maybe she had been completely wrong about him, maybe everyone was.
Sitting up from her position on the couch, Alexis walked over to the kitchen where she had left her laptop open on their small, dining room table. On the way there, she deposited her three-inch heeled sandals on the floor and sat down in front of her computer. Starting a new document on Microsoft Word, she tried to write her introduction. She didn’t want to make it too hurtful, but she wanted to let the readers know what she had thought about Marat before their dinner.
After a few minutes of typing and backspacing, she finally finished her introduction with her previous impression of Marat and her newfound opinion of the Russian tennis star. It was hard to look at the introduction without feeling a little embarrassed. Alexis was not used to being wrong, especially about first impressions on men. But hell, she obviously had read Bryan wrong, why not Marat?
Saving the document on her computer, she closed the screen down and looked at the time. It was past midnight, and she had another busy day of work ahead of her. Making her way into her bedroom, she shut the door behind her and changed into her pajamas. For the life of her, she couldn’t figure out what was going on in her head, or heart for that matter.
Falling into the cool sheets and blankets of her bed, Alexis tried to fall asleep but it was useless. She kept coming back to that moment on the curb of the street. She could’ve done anything, shook his hand, kissed his cheek, given him a hug, but instead she had retreated into the car. She was afraid of him, but why? Was it because for the first time in her life, she wasn’t in control of her heart or her head?
*****
“Game, set, match, Gonzales,” the chair umpire announced from his seat above the court as Marat shook hands with Fernando Gonzales.
Letting her mouth drop to the floor, Alexis couldn’t believe what had just happened on the court in front of her. Sitting comfortably in her seat during the first two sets, Alexis had watched as Marat won 6-4, 7-6. But after a few bad line calls, Marat became so frustrated that he lost the next three sets 4-6, 4-6, 4-6.
Standing up from their seats in the press box, Izzy and Alexis gathered their things before walking out of the stands. As they walked through the crowds to get to Marat’s post-match interview, Alexis was unusually quiet as Izzy rattled off the day’s events.
“Oh, my God! Did we really just see that?” Izzy said turning to Alexis. “He was up two sets. All he had to do was win one more set, just one more. Can you believe that?”
“Hmmm,” Alexis replied staring ahead.
“Alexis? Are you there?” Izzy asked waving her hand in front of Alexis’ face. “Anybody home?”
“Sorry, I was thinking.”
“About how you’re going to write your story on him after this loss?”
“Basically, but there’s something else,” Alexis replied as she opened the door to the press conference room.
“What else is there?” Izzy asked as they found the last seats left in the back of the room.
“I didn’t talk to you about what happened last night.”
“What happened?”
“I was wrong, completely wrong. Marat wasn’t anything like I thought he was,” Alexis sighed. “And he was such a gentleman. At the end of the night, we were standing there beside my cab. And, well…”
“Well what? Don’t leave me waiting,” Izzy whined.
“And nothing happened,” Alexis finished. “Absolutely nothing. It was so awkward that I just jumped into my cab and left him standing there on the curb.”
“But something was going to happen, wasn’t it?”
“That’s another reason why I ran. I didn’t want to find out.”
“Why?”
“I told you I don’t have a lot of luck with relationships, and I meant it. The last guy I was with, I came home to find him in bed with another woman. I was going to make him dinner that night! Can you believe that?” Alexis exclaimed.
“I’m so sorry. So that’s what you were talking about last night.”
“Yes, it was. And because of it, there’s no way I could trust another man again, at least not now,” Alexis said shaking her head.
“Speaking of the devil,” Izzy muttered as Marat entered the room and sat down in front of the crowds of reporters and photographers.
Sitting near the back wall, Alexis didn’t know whether to sit up straighter so Marat would notice her or sink down in her chair so that he wouldn’t notice her. Not being able to make up her mind, she stayed in the position she was in and watched as the press conference unfolded.
The usual questions were asked, some of them important while others were a ridiculous waste of time. Every time one of those was asked, Marat would roll his eyes and lean forward in exhaustion. Numbly, Alexis typed the questions and their answers into her laptop. Towards the end of the press conference, she knew judgement day was coming. She was either going to ask her question or not.
“Are there any other questions?” the moderator asked.
“Yes, back here,” Alexis shouted raising her hand.
From the look on Marat’s face when she first spoke, Alexis could tell he had not noticed her before. Staring into his eyes, he almost looked comforted and relieved to see her. It made it that much harder for her to ask her next question, but she had to do it.
“Is it possible that a change of coach could be in the near future?” Alexis asked.
“You mean will I fire Peter?” Marat asked indignantly as he glared at Alexis. She was obviously no longer in his favor. “That’s a ridiculous question. Just because I lose a match, it doesn’t mean I will fire someone I hold in such high regard.”
“But it hasn’t been only one early round lose, it’s been several,” Alexis argued.
“I’ve already answered your question, Alexis,” Marat said between gritted teeth.
When he called her by her first name, the reporters and photographers in front of her turned around. None of them could figure out why Marat Safin would know the first name of this new reporter. Nodding back at them and Marat, Alexis looked down at her computer as she mechanically typed his answer into her computer. After she was sure Marat had exited the press room and most of the reporters’ gazes were off her, she finally looked up.
“Woah,” Izzy said as Alexis put her laptop in her bag and Izzy put away her camera. “I hope the other reporters will take out your name from his last answer.”
“You and me both,” Alexis sighed as they walked out of the room. “I didn’t want to ask that question, you know.”
“But you had to,” Izzy added. “It’s your job to ask questions and get answers. And it’s his job to play matches and win tournaments. Just because he’s not doing his job, it doesn’t me you shouldn’t do yours.”
“I hope he understands that.”
*****
Another Wimbledon had passed, and it was another win for Federer. Sitting in the dining room of her apartment, Alexis was hunched over her laptop. Tired of typing the headline, “Federer Wins”, Alexis had given the story to Neil without thinking. Neil was still the best sports reporter at the Times, no matter how much he tried to deny it.
But without the responsibility of writing about the men’s final, she was forced to focus on Marat’s interview. After his loss, he had left London to attend the wedding of his manager, Amit, in Israel without a goodbye. She hadn’t expected him to call her and profess his undying love, but she thought he would have wanted to know how the interview was going.
Leaning back in her chair to reach for the curtains covering the dining room window, Alexis peaked outside. Although most of her view was taken over by the building across the street, she could clearly see the beautiful, blue skies scattered with white, puffy clouds. She would’ve given anything that moment to be outside among the warm weather and sunny rays.
But before she could run off with her thoughts, the phone rudely awakened her. Setting her chair back on four legs, Alexis got up from the table and picked up the receiver.
“Hello?”
“So you’re inside as well?” Neil asked in reply.
“I was just about to jump out the dining room window to escape my computer when you called,” Alexis laughed leaning against the kitchen counter.
“Isn’t your apartment on the third floor?”
“Yup,” Alexis replied smiling over the phone. “I’m that desperate.”
“Marat’s a character. All you have to do for an interview is write an introduction and a conclusion, Marat takes care of the rest,” Neil said as he typed on his laptop. “I’m the one who has to make Roger winning Wimbledon again interesting.”
“True, true. I’ve already finished the introduction. It’s just writing the conclusion inside on a beautiful today like today that makes it hard,” Alexis sighed tracing the designs of the granite countertop.
“You have a laptop. Why don’t you go outside?”
“Yeah, because I’ve always wanted to walk around London by myself. Why did Izzy have to go on vacation?” Alexis whined.
“She’s only two hours from London with her family. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind if you called her, especially if you’re that lonely.”
“No, I don’t want to bother her. Looks like I’ll be hanging out with Sara this week.”
“Not Sara again.”
“Now you don’t like her either, Neil?”
“I’ve already told you what I know of her, and so has Izzy. Please don’t hang out with her too much this week, Lexi,” Neil warned.
“Lexi? No one’s called me that since my…”
“Since your what?” Neil asked.
“Nothing, Neil. I have to go.”
“Sure you do.”
“I’ve got a lot on my mind, Neil. Be good and I’ll see you at work tomorrow,” Alexis said hanging up the phone quickly.
Walking back into the dining room, Alexis sat down at her computer and began to type away furiously at her keyboard. Working herself into a frenzy was better than thinking about all the people in her life who had let her down or left her.
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Post by Addie on Sept 3, 2006 0:05:19 GMT 3
Chapter 15
For the second time that day, Alexis was seated in Thomson’s office. Waiting for him to finish editing a story on his computer, she stared around the room. On the walls were pictures of his family. Smiling back at her with happy faces, she felt like she was being daunted by another normal, loving family. Why couldn’t her family have been that way?
“Back again, Moore?” Thomson spoke as he took off his glasses. “I’ve already told you once. I think your idea is a waste of time and money.”
“But sir, if you could trust me to organize the Wimbledon coverage, why not this? The World Cup is over, and England is looking for a sport to cheer on. The US Open Series is the perfect opportunity,” Alexis explained. “We would only go to the Masters Series events, which start in three days.”
“And where is that one?”
“Toronto. And the next one is Cincinnati. After those two tournaments, we’ll fly to New York City where we’ll cover the action building up to the US Open. It’ll be amazing. And then of course, we’ll work our asses off covering the US Open matches when they start.”
“Do you really think this will work? Covering the US Open Series to peak interest?” Thomson asked leaning back in his large, leather computer chair.
“I’m positive. And the London Times will be the only newspaper in England to have in-depth, hard-hitting coverage. It’s a grand slam, it deserves to be noticed and appreciated by the British people.”
“Fine.”
“Fine? You mean you’re going to let us go?” Alexis asked jumping out of her chair.
“I will let you go, but you can only bring along Izzy. I need to keep Neil here for local tennis stories.”
“No Neil?” Alexis asked immediately saddened.
“I can’t have half of my sports reporters running around the States,” Thomson smiled. “Two is enough.”
“But…”
“End of conversation, Moore. You may leave now,” Thomson said going back to his computer screen and putting on his glasses.
Alexis knew there was no talking Thomson out of his decision to omit Neil from her team of reporters. Walking out of his office silently with a short “thank you”, she walked gloomily back to the maze of cubicles she now called home. Neil was sitting at his cubicle, asleep as always, but Izzy was not at hers. Most likely, Izzy was helping with the spreadsheet for the next issue coming tomorrow.
“Hey, there!” Neil greeted when he heard Alexis sit down in her chair. “I’m guessing he said ‘no’ again.”
“No, he said ‘yes’,” Alexis replied rubbing her forehead.
“Then why do you look so sad? We’re going to the States. We get to go on vacation!” Neil laughed.
“He would only allow Izzy and me to go. He said he needs you here.”
“Oh,” Neil said softly looking down at his feet.
“I swear I tried to persuade him to let you go. But he wouldn’t hear any of it. You have to believe me that this isn’t what I want. We’re a great team,” Alexis said grabbing Neil’s cold, lifeless hand.
“I believe you, and I understand what kind of dilemma you’re going through. But cheer up,” Neil said trying to smile. “Izzy and you are going to do great, and I’ll be here if you have any questions.”
“It just doesn’t feel right without you.”
“The three of us had a great two weeks together covering Wimbledon. It’s time for you to start making decisions for yourself. You’ve got to build your reputation as a journalist.”
“What’s going on?” Izzy asked as she came to Alexis’ cubicle.
“Pack your bags,” Alexis said.
“Why?”
“We’re going to America.”
*****
Taking a final look around her bedroom, Alexis checked to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything for the trip. They would be gone for the next five weeks, and Alexis didn’t want to leave anything behind. Turning off her bedroom light, she walked to the bathroom and checked that room before walking into the living room. Izzy was sitting on her suitcase with her carry-on at her feet as she listened to her iPod.
“Are you ready to go?” Alexis asked.
“Yup,” Izzy answered taking her earphones out.
“Did you double check that you have everything?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“How about your carry-on? Nothing illegal in it?”
“No, mother. Can we go now?” Izzy asked with a mischievous smile on her face. “I can’t wait to be surrounded by American accents.”
“Hmm, let me have one last look around,” Alexis said as the phone began to ring.
“Ugh! We’ll never get out of here! I’m taking our bags down to the street. You answer the phone,” Izzy said picking up the suitcases and leaving their apartment.
Laughing at Izzy as she tried to make it through the door with all of their suitcases, Alexis took a deep breath before she answered the phone so she would no longer be giggling.
“Hello?” Alexis said as she answered the phone.
“Is Alexis there?” a man with a thick accent asked.
“This is she.”
“Alexis? It’s Marat.”
“Marat? What, what do you want? Is something wrong?” Alexis croaked out.
“Nothing is wrong, other than the fact I lost in the semi-finals of Washington, D.C. But considering you’re a tennis reporter, I’m sure you already know that.”
“Actually, I didn’t know. I haven’t been to the office today, because I’m leaving London in a few hours,” Alexis replied.
“Why are you leaving London? Were you fired? You got your interview.”
“I wasn’t fired, Marat. But I’m sure that would have made your day,” Alexis said rolling her eyes.
“That’s a little harsh, don’t you think?” Marat asked.
“Marat, why are you calling?” Alexis sighed.
“I wanted to thank you for the interview.”
“It’s been out for almost a month. Why call now?”
“Because I couldn’t get up the nerve to call you,” Marat admitted.
“Why should you be nervous around me?”
“You’re not the most welcoming personality,” Marat laughed softly.
“Oh, so you also called to insult me. Thanks, anything else?”
“Alexis, I wasn’t insulting you. I wouldn’t do that. The interview was very nicely written. I was surprised you didn’t try to make me look bad. I actually sounded better than I am.”
“Marat, your answers to my questions were the same. You’re a good person with a bad reputation, that’s all,” Alexis said leaning against the kitchen counter.
“I’m really a big mess.”
“Believe me Marat, as much as I wanted to hate you during that interview, I couldn’t. And do you know why?” Alexis asked.
“Why?”
“Because you didn’t possess any of the qualities I hate. You were honest, funny, polite, and even smart.”
“Smart? Have you been drinking?”
“Not at all,” Alexis laughed softly. “You’re trying to be a badass. But I’m sorry to say you’re not.”
“How do you know I wasn’t just putting on a show?”
“I don’t know. I guess I have to trust you to be honest. Were you putting on a show for me?”
“No.”
“Good.”
“Alexis, there’s another reason why I called.”
“And what was that?”
“I wanted to talk to you about…,”
“Oh, crap!”
“What is it, Alexis?”
“My flight leaves soon, and my friend is downstairs waiting for us to leave. I’ve got to go. Can we finish this conversation later?”
“Of course. I’ll call you tomorrow,” Marat said.
“Why bother calling? I’ll see you in Toronto.”
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