Tempting Tennis Tarts: Freddy & Chloe, #3

By Sybille

During the world's greatest tennis tournament, Wimbledon, they sit in their Centre Court seats to watch the greatest matches. On Day One, Round One, the number one ranked single woman player, Charise Ewing, nearly falls flat on her face. This doesn't prevent Chloe from noticing what a beautiful, strong, African-American woman she is. Or Freddy from noticing her Polish opponent is also magnificent.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Love Conquers All Press
• Release date: Mar 7, 2019
• ISBN: 9798215956625

Book preview

Tempting Tennis Tarts

Freddy and Chloe 3

Sybille

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Copyright © 2015 by Sybille and Love Conquers All Press.

Cover, book, and graphic design Copyright © 2015 by Sybille and Love Conquers All Press.

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book. 

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance between these characters and real people is purely coincidental.

All characters are 18 years old or older.

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter One

Ready for Wimbledon

On the first day of Wimbledon, Freddy and I sat in two seats with a terrific view of Centre Court.

Round One of the Ladies Singles Championship. Charise Ewing from the United States, the highest ranked woman tennis player in the world by the Women's Tennis Association versus Antonina Tomaszewski of Poland.

And things weren't looking good for the home team, our home team, that is.

A glorious sunny day at the All England Club in London. Prince William and Catherine Middleton, Duchess of Cambridge, occupied the Royal Box not far from us.

We'd both eaten our fill of strawberries and cream, washed down with champagne. What that had to do with lawn tennis, I didn't know or care. Strawberries taste good and come with lots of healthy nutrients.

What were Freddy and I doing at the greatest tennis tournament in the world even though tennis was one of the many sports we didn't play?

Ogling slim, athletic women in skimpy white outfits and short, flared skirts. What else?

The action came fast and hard, but never for very long. The crowd remained so quiet during the play the pops of the rackets hitting the ball sounded quite loud. Then oohed and aahed as one woman scored a point against the other.

But they remained on their best upper-class British behavior. No jeers, no razzing of the players.

We'd just done a small favor for someone wealthy and British, and he just happened to own several Wimbledon debentures.

Debenture is British English for bond. They're even traded on the London Stock Exchange.

As investments, they suck.

For watching the most important tennis matches of the most important tournament, they're terrific.

Especially if someone else gives them to you.

Freddy and I wore sedate cotton summer dresses. Hers sky-blue, mine pastel yellow, with a culottes skirt. And Reeboks. Just enough makeup.

We were blending in.

On our best behavior—at least in public.

Excited to be so close to Harry and Catherine? I asked Freddy.

I'm American, I don't care about royalty.

I mean, she's hot.

So?

So, you'd jump right on her.

Not my style. She's married.

But only to a man.

Since when did you care so much about celebrities?

I didn't answer, but went back to watching the action on Centre Court.

Although the number one tournament seed, Charise wasn't looking like championship material during the first match of Round One the first day.

She was behind in the set 3 - 0, and in the fourth game was already behind 30 - love.

Antonina was a strong, up and coming young star, and if she managed to take Charise out of Wimbledon in Round One, it'd be a major upset in the world of professional tennis. And a big slap in the face and humiliation to a seasoned pro who, having won the Australian Open and French Opens earlier this year, seemed poised for her third in a row Grand Slam.

But right now her face looked flushed deep brown, and sweat poured down her face despite the sweat band around her forehead.

While she stood facing her opponent, she looked as frightened as a twelve-year-old girl attending her first middle school dance. Afraid a boy would ask her to dance and afraid no boy would ask her dance.

I could relate. The fear's twice as intense when I didn't want anybody to know I wanted to dance with another girl, and so was afraid one would ask me to dance.

In my middle school, girls did dance together because most boys were too shy to ask until half their buddies were already dancing. And it was