and not insignificantly! It was time to stalk his prey a little more closely …
‘Lovely to see you again, Eloise. How are you?’
‘Very well, thanks, Caesar. And you?’
‘Couldn’t be better. Nothing more exciting than the potential changing of the guard, don’t you think?’ There was a twinkle in his eyes as he said the words and nodded to the waiter to refill her glass.
Talking to Caesar when her life could be about to change was making Eloise nervous, so she made a deliberate attempt to remain as polite and calm as possible, carefully considering her answers before she spoke.
‘How have things been with Ivan?’ he asked.
‘Well, as you’d be aware, he hasn’t quite been himself since the loss at Wimbledon, and now with his injury and all …’
‘I know. Poor chap, things haven’t gone his way recently. So what’s been keeping you occupied?’
Eloise’s nerves shifted a gear but fortunately her voice remained steady.
‘Taking in the sights; there’s always plenty to do in New York.’
She offered nothing more, and he decided to let the matter rest, for now. ‘Indeed there is. So tell me, what are your thoughts on these two players?’
‘I’m no expert on tennis, Caesar; you’d know far better than I would.’
He silently congratulated her on her answer: sticking to generalities rather than getting personal. Perhaps she had more intelligence than he’d given her credit for.
‘Yes, yes, quite right.’ He chuckled. ‘Then let me phrase my question more succinctly. Would you prefer a change, or for your circumstances to remain as they are?’
She paused before answering, unsure of what he was hoping to hear. ‘My preference is irrelevant, Caesar. I will accept whatever happens; that’s the commitment I’ve made.’
‘I’m very pleased to hear that you’re taking the contract as seriously as I am. I’m not one for deviations once something has been agreed. Enjoy the game, Eloise; heaven knows I shall.’
With a clink of his glass and a cheerful wink that belied the veiled threat in his words, he excused himself to go and chat with his other guests as the pre-match tension rose steadily around them.
The knots in Eloise’s stomach tightened as the two players entered the stadium and applause instantly erupted. Noah came out first, and the crowd enthusiastically welcomed the new kid on the block. Though he was smiling and waving, everyone could sense his nervousness at being in his first grand-slam final. Eloise beamed with pride, hoping he’d received her message and small gift. Caesar didn’t miss a single twitch of her expressive face from the other side of the room.
The cheering changed when Stephan Nordstrom appeared on the court, sporting his sponsored Maui Jim sunglasses. The newly appointed tennis superstar acknowledged the crowd with a brief nod before immediately getting down to the business of ensuring the brands of his clothes, racquets and even his drink bottles were facing the right way for maximum exposure. It took three attempts for him to find the racquet with the perfect string tension, then he carefully placed the other two back in his sponsored sports bag, ensuring they were in the exact position he wanted them. Some might have called him obsessive–compulsive – and many had, often – but the sponsors Caesar had secured on his behalf would handsomely reward such meticulousness.
Once these actions were performed, he sat perfectly still, more focused than a neurosurgeon about to make his first incision. It was as if the crowd no longer existed in his mind. The look on his face made it clear that Nordstrom was here for one reason only.
To dominate and to win.
Eloise’s nerves electrified as she was torn between her excitement at the prospect of a new Number One particularly a Swedish god like Stephan – and wanting to protect her gorgeous Noah from such a tour de force. Though beaming at Noah, she found herself drawn to Stephan, wondering if he was as domineering in person as he was on court. She watched in awe along with thousands of other fans as he sat trance-like in his seat before the announcer summoned the players onto the court for their warm-up.
Eloise desperately hoped the knot in her stomach would ease when play commenced.
Nothing could have been further from the truth.
Transition
The entire match lasted a little over an hour – much to the disappointment of the crowd, some of whom had paid a small fortune just to witness a wipeout.
There was no opportunity for Eloise to find Noah and offer her condolences on losing so catastrophically in straight sets. Realistically, she had no idea how she could even have attempted to locate him, given the security around the stadium. Since her brief conversation with Caesar she had sensed he was watching her every move, so she didn’t even dare send a message to Noah in case he showed up and aroused Caesar’s suspicions further.
Caesar’s people ensured she was escorted directly back to the hotel to await further instructions. Once again, she felt like an object in Caesar’s world – a world where he oversaw her every move until the transition was complete. She was sure that, had she attempted to leave the premises, she would have been prevented.
She tried to call Noah when she was finally alone but went straight through to his voicemail. She left a message telling him she was sorry but reassuring him that it was only the first of many grand-slam finals to come. She couldn’t help but think that perhaps eliminating smoking from his lifestyle might guarantee better success, but she didn’t dare say it!
After meeting up with Ivan for a platonic yet warm goodbye, she was informed of the request for her to be in the hotel boardroom at 9pm to meet Stephan Nordstrom.
Eloise felt like she was in limbo. So to keep her thoughts and emotions at bay, she went for a long swim in the hotel pool. After which, she prepared herself, dressing simply and elegantly in a black cocktail dress and heels, her hair pulled into a low chignon.
At 8.50pm there was a sharp knock on the door of her suite. A suited man, no doubt one of Caesar’s entourage, silently escorted her to the boardroom. The butterflies in her stomach were as violent as they’d been before her first performance as Principal.
She sat demurely with her eyes lowered while Caesar’s lawyers negotiated with Stephan’s. As the paperwork was signed and exchanged, every fibre of her being could sense Stephan’s wild excitement as he courteously pulled back her chair from the boardroom table. As she stood, she looked up to meet his intense gaze as his steely-blue eyes feasted on her petite form and the dynamic between them intensified. Stephan’s dominance on the court was nothing compared to meeting the man himself – and it took her breath away, literally – as the electricity between them was undeniable to everyone in the room.
‘So, tomorrow morning, then, I shall see you at the Waldorf?’ His eyebrows rose in question, as if not quite believing this extraordinary situation to be real.
‘Yes, sir,’ she responded quietly, knowing even as she uttered the words that her relationship with this Number One would be entirely different from her distant relations
