Exclusive Sneak Peek
Chapter one just for you
Valentine’s Day is right around the corner, and love is in the air! To help make your day even sweeter, I decided to do something special. Since you’re subscribed to my newsletter, you’re getting an exclusive first look at Game Set Love. Keep scrolling for the entire first chapter!! I hope you enjoy it. If you do, you’ll be able to read the rest on March 14 when the book releases.
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I’m so excited about this book, and my early readers have fallen in love with it too. I can’t wait for y’all to read it! So without further ado, here is your sneak peek at chapter one. Happy reading!
One more point.
If he could win this last point, the French Open title would be his. And he would get this point. Because if there was one thing Liam Landry was good at, it was winning.
His opponent tossed the ball then hit a deadly serve down the T. It would have aced nearly anybody else, but Liam wasn’t anybody else.
Light on his feet, he lunged forward and swung his racket in perfect timing, powering the ball to the opposite side of the court. The other player made a dash for it, but he couldn’t reach the ball before it flew by him. And with that perfect shot, Liam’s victory was sealed.
The pulsing energy in the stands matched the rhythm of his heart as he waved to the roaring crowd. Nothing else on earth gave him this type of rush. Only the exhilaration of winning and hearing that applause. That moment – the moment when he won a match – was the moment he lived and breathed for.
Liam shook his opponent’s hand, received his hard-earned trophy, and gave a short commentary to the waiting reporter. By then the crowd had started to thin, and the only thing left to do was go to the locker room to change.
That was the downside to his empowering, perfect moment. It was only that. A moment. And then it was gone.
Trying to maintain his adrenaline high, he left the court at a brisk pace. But the remaining wind was knocked out of his sails when he found his agent leaning against the locker room door, the look on her face far from celebratory.
Liam mopped his forehead with the towel hanging around his neck. “What’s up, Patrice? Come to congratulate me?”
The tiny yet intimidating woman pushed off the wall and drew close, her forehead barely level with his chin but her look full of steel. “We have a problem, Liam. A big problem.”
“Whatever it is, can’t it wait?” Liam spread his arms out wide. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m kind of busy today. You should be happy. I’m sure the endorsement offers will be rolling in on Monday.”
She cracked the tiniest smile and patted his shoulder. “I know. Congrats, Liam. You played really well.” Before he could thank her, the serious look returned to her face, wiping the smile away. “But what I need to talk to you about…it really can’t wait.”
“Okay then. Just tell me what it is so we can get it over with.” Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, Liam didn’t try to hide his impatience. “I’d kind of like to go celebrate.”
Patrice’s eyes darted around the hallway, which was full of people performing various jobs. Including the press, who wouldn’t stop snapping photos of Liam. “This isn’t a good place to discuss it. Get changed and then we’ll talk.”
With a resigned sigh, Liam trudged into the locker room and stepped under the hot spray of the shower. He scrubbed himself a little more roughly than usual, irritated that his merriment had been cut short. What could be so important for Patrice to ruin his fun? He was pretty sure it was her job to handle his problems for him, not bother him right after winning a major tournament.
Once he had on a fresh pair of clothes, he exited the locker room to find Patrice. Except he was bombarded by a mob of reporters who had even more questions to ask and wanted him to come up with more charming statements. Hamming it up for several minutes, Liam almost forgot he had business to attend to. Until he glanced down the hall and saw Patrice standing there with her arms crossed, foot tapping like a jackhammer on the floor.
Holding up a hand to the press, Liam excused himself and walked in her direction. She fell into step beside him, and they veered down a dark corridor and out a side door. By some stroke of good fortune, no one followed them.
“All right, Patrice.” Liam adjusted his smart watch on his wrist. “Spill the beans. What’s so important?”
In the few short minutes it had taken him to shower, Patrice had grown even more agitated. She’d practically chewed her bottom lip to a pulp. Whatever she had to say, Liam had a feeling he wasn’t going to like it.
She gave another look around, evidently making sure no one could hear her. “Liam, I really hate to be the bearer of bad news, especially on a day like today. But you could be in some serious trouble.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Quit beating around the bush.”
“Okay…” Her voice was low and serious, a tone he seldom heard from her. “A waitress at your country club has apparently made allegations against you.”
“What? A waitress?” Liam’s brain spun faster than his game-winning forehand. “Allegations about what?”
“Now, let’s be smart about this. We need to call your lawyer right away and…” Patrice kept rambling on, but Liam’s brain couldn’t catch up. Apparently, she hadn’t heard his question.
In the same motion he’d used with the press, Liam held a hand up for her to stop talking. “Would you just hold on a minute? I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about!”
Patrice released a puff of air and straightened her blouse. “Liam, this woman is claiming that you sexually assaulted her.”
“What?” The news shot through him with such force that he thought he might be sick. Sexual assault? Maybe he wasn’t the friendliest guy in the world, but even he wouldn’t do something that messed up. “There’s no way I laid a hand on any waitress in that club. Ever. Somebody needs to get their story straight. Either that or tell me I’m being punk’d, because this isn’t funny.”
“Liam…” Patrice shook her head sadly, like a child watching an ice cream cone melt. “This isn’t a joke.”
“Well, it’s absolutely not true. Not even close.” And why did it have to happen today of all days? Talk about getting knocked off your pedestal.
As if his claim to innocence was all she needed to hear, Patrice pulled out her phone and began typing up a storm. “I believe you, but we need to come up with a strategy for how we’re going to deal with this. First, I think it’s best to keep you out of the limelight for now.”
“And how do you suggest we do that? I did just win the French Open, you know. Kind of hard to hide that.” Liam couldn’t believe this was happening. He should’ve been partying it up, drinking champagne and flirting with French girls. Not worrying about some chick making up crazy lies about him.
“I’m making a reservation for both of us at a mountain resort in the Rockies.” Noticing his skeptical look, Patrice jabbered on. “It’s secluded, private…perfect for our purposes. And don’t worry, it’s plenty luxurious. I’ve been there before, a long time ago.”
“Yeah, right.” The idea was absurd. “I’m just supposed to jet off to the mountains and sit around in some lodge twiddling my thumbs? Sounds like a great plan.”
Ignoring his sarcasm, Patrice drew in a deep breath. “I promise you we’re going to figure this out, but you have to trust me on this. The more the press sees your face, the more they’re going to blow this out of proportion.”
She had a point there. He was lucky the reporters at the tournament didn’t seem to know about this yet. As soon as the media got wind of it, they’d be all over him. His recent win would be nothing compared to this juicy tidbit. He could just picture them licking their chops, waiting to take a bite out of him.
Liam felt like a floppy, airless balloon. Suddenly, partying it up in France didn’t sound so great. There went his plans for the rest of the week. “I guess I don’t really have a choice.”
“Not if you want to maintain that pretty image of yours. And keep yourself out of further trouble.”
Going to some resort in the mountains was the last thing he wanted to do, but he trusted Patrice and knew she was usually right. If she thought this was the best idea, then he would have to grin and bear it. The alternative was getting caught in a paparazzi feeding frenzy, and that option was even less desirable.
“Great.” His tone was flatter than the egg white omelet he’d eaten that morning. “Rocky Mountains, here we come.”
What a disaster this day was turning out to be. If only he could rewind half an hour, back to hitting that winning shot. That moment when everything was perfect and his life wasn’t a mess.
Thanks for reading! I hope you have a blessed and wonderful day. Don’t forget to mark your calendar for release day on March 14!!