Game, Set and Match

Chapter 1

By Ali Vali

Disclaimers: The characters are of my own creation. Any similarities to anyone living or dead are purely coincidental. No part of this story may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission from me, the author.

If the thought of two women being romantically involved is not for you, then this story is one you won't want to read. But seriously if you are underage and live someplace where that is not allowed move on, literally.

Sit back and enjoy the story and if you have something wonderful to say about it write to me at

I want to thank my beta goddess for correcting this for me. Jaden I bow to your grammatical knowledge.

As always this is dedicated to C. I love you.

Chapter 1

Whack. The ball flew over the net at one hundred and thirty miles an hour hitting right inside the line flying off in a wicked slice that proved to be untouchable by the player on the other side. Even the ball boy had a hard time trying to chase it down as it went in a direction he wasn't expecting. The server waited for the boy to get out of the way and for her opponent to get set before she let another one fly.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is the type of tennis that has been missing from Wimbledon since the time of Martina. This is just an awesome display of straight forward power tennis." The commentator spoke softly into the microphone from the booth to tennis fans watching the match from home. From center court the crowd cheered when the clipped English accent said, "Forty love."

"Yes, Joe, it seems that Parker used her time in England after the French to work on that first service, and isn't Jill sorry about that. It was the one thing that was missing from Parker's arsenical of weapons and now her war chest seems complete. Parker has matured into an outstanding player," continued the female commentator. For a brief moment the woman behind the microphone relived what it was like to be so close to the coveted title Parker King was sure to win by mornings end. The crowd was on their feet again as 'Kong' served up another ace to win the third consecutive game of the first set.

Parker King was the new darling of the tennis world, loved by the crowds that flocked to see her play as well as the companies that lined up to sign her to wear their logos. At a little over six one, shoulder length dark brown hair slightly streaked, skin that was touched by the hours she spent in the sun and eyes the color of blue ice, she was a natural favorite.

Anyone that saw her on a court would have to be blind not to see the fire that burned within her to win. Opponents, no matter what their ranking, cringed when they saw her name on the board as their next game. The power she displayed on the court had earned her the nickname Kong from the fans, and Parker was never one to disappoint getting to the final without dropping a set and losing only eight games in her time in England.

"Jill has got to be more aggressive at the net if she wants to get back into this match," Joe Welch, former male champion said to his two other partners in the booth. The crowd drowned the rest of what he was saying out as Parker returned a lob so hard that the ball bounced into the stands behind her opponent Jill Seabrook after it had bounced just inside the line.

"Love forty," the judge said into the microphone pointing to the King side of the net, followed momentarily by, "Game Miss King." Jill went into her return stance looking defeated already as Parker flashed her coach in the stands a winning smile. Sitting next to him was Parker's guest for the match displaying her own smile down to the number one player in the world. After they collected the title, it was back to the US for the rest of the summer to prepare for the Open, and after a grueling schedule Parker was more than ready for that.

Whack. The little yellow ball flew millimeters over the net landing just inside the line. Parker pumped her arm once pleased with the shot sending the crowd to their feet.

"What a rifle shot, Gene!" exclaimed the third commentator as Jill scrambled after the serve.

"Quiet please," said the judge as the crowd was on their feet again chanting "Kong." Less than forty minutes later Parker was doing her curtsey and holding up the women's singles trophy over her head. She walked the complete court so that everyone present could see the large silver plate in her hand. In an interview she had once said that the victories were as much the fans as they were hers, and Parker liked to share the moment with those that paid the price to come and see her. Her last stop was in front of Gary Bertrand her coach.

Gary had been at one time, a rising star in the tennis world until the day he collapsed on center court at the US Open with a blown knee. Instead of accepting defeat, he had turned to coaching finding a tall gangly kid that over the years he molded into a champion. The coach smiled like a proud father now as he watched the woman that she had turned into walk the circuit of the court showing off the spoils of her victory.

"Come on, Alicia, let's go congratulate the new champion down in the locker room," said Gary to the young woman next to him. The shapely redhead was an up and comer herself in music industry and was wild about Parker. She had been able to attend the prestigious tournament because her band's tour schedule put them in the area during the finals. It had been complete pandemonium a couple of nights before when the three of them had gone out to dinner and the two young women had been recognized. In a country that thrived on tabloid sensational stories it had been like a gift from the heavens.

"Excuse me, Mr. Bertrand, I have a message for you." The young man with the traditional Wimbledon colors on handed Gary a note, which made him frown the moment he started reading. He absolutely hated when Parker used him to blow off her date.

"Alicia, honey, why don't you head on back to the city and wait for Parker to call you. Something must have happened on one of those last serves and she is in with one of the trainers now." The look of concern on the pretty face made him feel like an ass, but there would be a heavy price to pay if he showed up with her in tow in the locker room.

"Is she going to be ok?" It had been Alicia's plan to walk out of the grounds on Parker's arm and hope there would be more photographers around. The publicity she and the band had racked up in their time in England had been priceless. The young singer had no regrets being seen on the arm of the tennis world's bad girl. Nor did she regret the stories that placed her in Parker's bed.

"She's going to be fine. This is just typical Parker believe me." If you only knew, honey, thought the coach as he looked at the young woman before him. If Parker was true to form it would be the last time he would see her unless it was by chance. Like in a restaurant where the typical scenario ended with Parker wearing a drink before the dessert cart came out. It still amazed him sometimes that women wanted to go out with the good-looking tennis star considering her track record, but they were all convinced that they were the one that was going to tame the bad ass Kong. Scratch another one off that list.

Gary entered the green room singing the line 'just another notch in my lipstick case' softly as Parker was finishing up her post game interviews. He shook his head in her direction making her laugh at his reaction to the favor she had asked of him in the note. She was going home and didn't want the complications that the increasingly demanding Alicia would pose. Gary congratulated her with a scowl on his face for using him as the heavy before cuffing her on the back of the head and sending her into the locker room to change.

He would cut her some slack like he always did considering there was no time to just kick back and not worry about the next tournament. It was the U.S. Open, and the only one that continued to elude the American player with more trophies than women she had slept with. Gary knew it wouldn't take much prodding on his part to get Parker to work hard for the title that would make her a true champion. The French, Australian and now the Wimbledon trophy were going home with them and he could almost taste the slam.


The men's final was still going on by the time they arrived at the airport. Parker was anxious to get home after being out of the country for over three months. The two police officers that had been assigned to them kept the crowds at bay as Gary and Parker sat waiting for their flight. The Bobbies stood far away enough to give the couple some privacy, but close enough to send a message to any overzealous fans. They would let in a few autograph seekers in at a time, most of them young teen girls thrilled to sit this close to their idol, before putting their arms out and closing ranks.

Parker took the time to ask them about their own tennis game and gave pointers to those that seemed serious about the sport. The tennis gear had been replaced by a lightweight linen suit over a tight white t-shirt. Without the jacket on, everyone close enough could see the muscle rippling through Parker's arms as she autographed everything from tennis balls to tournament programs. A groan went up through the crowd as boarding for the flight began and the player and coach picked up their stuff to leave.

As on most flights, the crew of Virgin flight 756 was waiting at the door to greet their passengers. The small blonde standing toward the front would have recognized their famous passenger the minute she turned the corner of the jet way even if she hadn't been carrying a large bag full of rackets. She had spent the morning watching the talented Parker King completely obliterate her opponent. Seeing her in person, everyone standing at the door agreed the player was even better looking in person.

"Welcome aboard, Ms. King, I hope you enjoy your flight, and congratulations on your win" said Captain Emily Parish. She had stepped out of the cockpit, as was her habit before every flight to join the crew in greeting passengers at the door leaving the coat with her ranking draped over her seat.

"Thank you, ma'am. But if you really love me, could you fetch a cup of hot chocolate and a sandwich if you have it? Thanks, sweetheart," said Parker. The attendants around Emily put their hands to their mouths to hide the smiles and laughs that were about to come out at the young woman's assumptions. Emily was a great pilot but a perfectionist that made her a little hard to work for, so having someone bring her down a peg was amusing and more than a little entertaining.

"I'll see what I can do in between flying the plane and all," said Emily trying to control her temper. Her crew looked straight up and kept quite knowing what kind of effort it took on the small pilot's part not to tack on butthead to the end of her statement. Parker did have the decency to look apologetic at her mistake, but didn't offer a verbal one as she shrugged her shoulders and moved past the group to her seat.

"Way to go, champ, she'll probably send us back to coach just to prove a point. Now that we're alone, want to tell me what's up with Alicia?" Gary put his bag in the overhead compartment before moving into the window seat giving Parker the isle.

Both their smiles were in place as the other passengers started streaming in offering congratulations as they past like they were old friends. Parker nodded her head at each well-wisher ignoring her coach for the moment. "Come on, Parker, sitting next to me at one of these tournaments seems to be the kiss of death for any relationship you seem to be in. I want you to have a life outside of tennis and be happy, kid. Believe me it will instill the desire to win in you more than this bullshit you've been doing with these girls."

"I have the desire to win, Gary, so give it a rest. You aren't my mother. I just want to go home and take it easy for a while with no complications. Is that a crime? Alicia was fun but she's got her own gig to worry about without me screwing it up for her. Trust me, buddy, when I meet the one all the fairytales talk about you'll be the preverbal first to know." When the first edition copy of 'To Kill a Mockingbird' came out of her carryon, Gary knew the conversation was over for now. The shoulder length hair formed a curtain around her face from the outside world, as Parker got lost in another classic story. This is the Kong no one writes about, thought Gary. Parker was so much more than just tennis, but those other parts she kept hidden.

The bad girl of tennis was in reality a very private intelligent person that loved to read as many books as her schedule allowed for. But Gary knew that didn't make as interesting headline news as the crying Alicia would the minute she figured out she had been dumped. The frown of that thought changed quickly as he saw the captain walking down the short aisle of first class with a tray in her hand. Maybe the woman did have a sense of humor after all.

"Sorry it took so long, but we had to send out for the marshmallows. We wouldn't want it said that Virgin didn't go the extra mile to make our passengers happy," Emily said sarcastically as she put the tray down for Parker. The tirade stopped momentarily when the book in the woman's hands snapped quietly closed and the pilot was pinned by almost white colorless eyes. It was as if Parker's eyes were chameleons that had taken on the color of her shirt. "I hope Godiva is good enough?" Emily asked not straightening up back into the isle. The phrase 'the eyes are the windows to the soul' popped into her head as she was drawn into Parker's personal space. It was as if Emily could feel the power sitting so close to her as Parker exhaled and put her head down and looked at the offering the captain had brought.

"Actually, I'm more of a Hershey girl myself, Captain," said Parker without looking up again. Having been on the receiving end of scorned women before, the tennis player decided an apology was in order before this turned into the flight from hell. "Would it help if I apologized, Captain? I didn't mean to insult you in anyway. The fact that you are the captain of this aircraft never entered my head when I stepped on board, which I imagine makes me a chauvinist pig of the female variety. So I'm sorry and go forward with the knowledge from this day on that I learned a valuable lesson in not making unfounded assumptions. Thank you for the hot chocolate and the sandwich, chicken salad I see, and for helping me choose the book I'm going to read on the way home." Parker's own little sarcastic speech made Emily look down to Parker's lap wiping out her own assumptions of dumb jock.

Looking into those seemingly colorless eyes when they suddenly appeared again made Emily suddenly think her lover back home in New York. The color of Gail's eyes were on the opposite end of the spectrum from Parker's, and Emily couldn't help but compare. This would be her last transatlantic flight for a while and she would be back to a more normal schedule that would allow her to be home more. Gail was waiting in Tampa for her for a little vacation before they both headed back to the city. Hopefully the time alone would put the fire back into the relationship that seemed to be fizzling out with Emily's constant absence and Gail's constant complaints and possessiveness.

"It's all right, Miss King. You join a long list of others who've made the same assumption. I apologize for taking them all out on you." Emily walked back to the cockpit without another word leaving Parker leaning into the aisle watching the sway of her hips as she departed. The way the skirt fit told Parker that the Captain did more than just sit in the cockpit flying planes. She was a beauty in motion.

"Forget it, tennis pro," said one of the male attendants who had had the tray snatched out of his hands by the captain. "The ice queen is very much involved with a trader in the big apple so you got no chance there, big guy."

Looking at his nametag Parker smiled before answering the obviously gay man. "No worries, Willy, cold fish are not my type, or don't you read the rags?" Willy laughed along with her as Parker dropped her gaze and went back to her book. She dropped in a handful of marshmallows into the cup Emily had delivered before taking a sip.

Ten hours later Emily's voice came lilting out of the speakers informing everyone of their impending arrival into the Miami airport. She went down the list of connections so those continuing on would know what gate to head for once they deplaned. "So ladies and gentlemen, if you would bring your seats to their full upright position we should have you on the ground in about ten minutes. Again thank you for choosing Virgin for your flying needs and we hope to see you on board in the future."

"The Nike shoot is scheduled in three days so you are going to have to hit the gym starting today. If your naked ass is going up in Time Square we want it to look pumped up," said Gary. The schedule book had come out of his bag twenty minutes ago so that they could review upcoming events. Having Parker trapped in a plane helped him make it through the end of the month.

"Whose idea was this again?" The sponsor had approached her with the idea before Wimbledon to add her to the list of athletes that had appeared in the ads clad just in their shoes illustrating that the footwear and the body were all that were necessary to succeed in sports.

"It was Nick's idea, and I forbid you to give him a hard time about it. You know how sensitive he is and I'm the one that has to live with him. All the shots will be from the back and he got Annie and her all girl crew to do it, so quit complaining." Gary pointed his finger at her to make his point. The last thing he wanted was both of the people he cared most about giving him a hard time for weeks to come.

"I just asked a question, Gary, I hardly see how that could be construed as complaining. Are they coming to the house or will it be done in a studio?" She put away her book and stood to pull her jacket back on. The crew had been surprised that besides her initial hot chocolate and sandwich, Parker had stuck to bottled water. The fourteen she had consumed kept her hydrated and active with constant trips to the bathroom. No amount of free alcohol was worth jet lag in her opinion, so while most of the other passengers fought fatigue, Parker would be lifting weights for the rest of the afternoon.

"You get to stay home, kid. Annie thought the court at home that overlooks the gulf would make for good shots. Now let's hope we didn't miss our connection. You know how Nick hates waiting around in airports."

"Now who's complaining?" asked Parker. She was pulling her hair into a ponytail when they both felt the wheels of the plane hit the tarmac once followed by three hard bumps before the engines were thrust into reverse to kill their speed. Not expecting it, Parker came close to smashing her head into the seat in front of them despite having her seatbelt on the jolt of the landing was so rough. Aside from the earlier announcement it was the first time the blonde captain crossed Parker's mind.

Parker and Gary waited as everyone got off before standing up from their seats. Their patience was usually rewarded by an empty waiting area as passengers where claimed by family and friends or were running toward baggage claim.

Parker finally looked up from her book to find an empty plane and Willy waiting at the door with her large bag of rackets and a pen. Alicia and Gary hadn't been the only avid fans in the stands, and the attendant saw this as his opportunity to get his program signed. When she got up he handed the bag over and held the booklet up with a pleading look.

"Willy, my man, I didn't know you were interested in tennis." She accepted his pen and sat down in the first set of first class seats waiting to hear his answer before writing something in the glossy book in her hand.

"I had to trade some really bum flights to be able to go and watch you play. The final match was awesome, though I wish it had lasted longer. Had that first ace you rocketed over the net hit Jill, I think the match would have been over because of a chipped bone. Having you on our flight home was just an extra added bonus." He stopped his babble of hero worship when Parker started writing. She handed his program back with a thank you note for his hospitality then took the time to sign some of the other souvenirs the rest of the crew had produced.

Emily watched from the door of the cockpit as Parker entertained her crew acting very unlike the person most of the press had written about. The tennis player never looked impatient as another item was pressed into her hand for signing and finished by unzipping the large black bag sitting at her feet and sliding out one of the rackets. With Willy's pen she signed Parker 'Kong' King and the date along the grip.

"Sorry you didn't get to see more play, Willy, but I was anxious to catch my flight. You might get your wish at the Open since it seems to be my Achille's heel." On the other side of her name Parker wrote 'first ace racket Wimbledon.' "I hope this makes up for your shitty schedule. That means a lot to me when people go so out of the way to come see me hit some balls." The rackets were custom made for her by the sponsor and were a valuable collector's item for the few fans that had gotten one as a gift. The one she had used for the majority of the match would rest along side the trophy at home. Both she and Gary laughed at the squeal Willy let out at her gift. Parker could only imagine the hardships the man had endured in his lifetime because of his obvious sexuality preference. She respected people like Willy who had a real survivor's spirit and let it shine through.

"Oh my god, thank you. This is the best gift I've ever gotten, Parker, thank you." Willy hugged her as she stood up and almost fainted as Parker hugged him back. "I know all those tabloids were full of shit," said Willy.

"Thank you, Willy, that means a lot." Parker squeezed him one more time and smiled at the sentiment. "Don't play with that one. Save it for your next vacation, at auction it should get you to Hawaii if you hit it on the right day."

"No way, this one's a keeper," said Willy. The crew bid them safe travels as Parker shouldered her bags and stepped off the plane noticing the cockpit door was closed as she stepped out. The impromptu autograph session had let her escape without having to confront Emily again.

"Is Nick going to pick us up?" asked Parker. The next leg of their trip to Tampa was less crowded and they finished their calendar review without interruption.

"Yep he is. Some of your contracts were coming up so hopefully he's resigned everyone and is over having to miss this trip." Gary sighed; Nick Spoli was a sweet man but could whine for days given a reason to. He and Gary lived together as well was worked together at keeping Parker both happy and ranked.

"Like you said, you're the one that has to live with him, buddy, not me. Just remind him of his commission if it gets out of hand. The smallest one alone should get him that new sports car he wants along with a new wardrobe to go with it." Parker wiggled her eyebrows at him and laughed when Gary scowled at her. Nick and the flight attendant they had just met, Willy, could compete on the flamboyancy scale in Parker's opinion.

The two men were Parker's role models when it came to a loving relationship having been together for fifteen years. They had built their home close to her on Press Cove, a mostly deserted stretch of beach near Clearwater Florida. Her house had everything she needed to train for upcoming tournaments while giving her the solitude she needed to prepare for the weeks on the road. Gary looked forward to these trips home as much as Parker did in that it gave he and Nick the time they needed to strengthen Parker's mental state as well as her body. Having every vice imaginable at your fingertips would have ruined her career had it not been for their influence along with that of Parker's two sisters.

Parker seldom complained about the schedules, knowing her career wouldn't last forever. There was a small window of opportunity to get all her goals accomplished before she either retired to her house, or to the commentator's chair. At twenty-two she had plenty of time to contemplate her future barring any injury. What happened to her coach was always with her, driving her to train harder in case her time on center court was fleeting.

"You know how much he loves to watch you play, so cut my boy some slack," said Gary. They moved onto the gate where their connection was boarding both anxious to get home. The woman that followed them on board couldn't believe her luck when she saw the two tall athletes go on ahead of her.

Don't tennis superstars live in New York or something? Emily asked herself as she slowed her pace not wanting to be noticed. The pilot had been looking forward to her own first class leather seat for a quick nap before meeting Gail. The thought of having to share the space with Parker King made her veer into the cockpit in search of an empty seat. Emily would settle for some mindless conversation with the crew instead of her nap.

Parker had apologized but something about her still rubbed the pilot the wrong way. Maybe it was the way she apologized. Emily couldn't help but think that Parker was one of those people not used to being wrong in any situation, or at least admitting she was wrong.

The young woman's assumption of her position on the earlier flight had just hit a raw nerve with the pilot negating the instant attraction Emily had felt when Parker had turned the corner. Emily was used to the cracks from men, but when it came from successful women it was even worse to her. No, Parker King could keep her wise cracks and good looks to impress someone else she wasn't interested. What she needed now was some time in the sun with Gail, but with out permission, Emily's brain drifted back to the sleeping tennis player on the other side of the cockpit door.

Continued in Chapter 2

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