Love on the Line (Beaumont Legacy #2)

8. Maya

Chapter eight

Maya

T welve calls later, and Maya’s happy spirits were beginning to wane again. Not a single facility was able to offer a discount for the courts, and many of them didn’t have the availability she would need to coach kids after school. A couple of facilities said they didn’t know the answer and would get back to her, but they seemed to be trying to get her off the phone, so she didn’t put too much stock in that.

Maya blew out a breath as she tapped the second to last phone number into her phone, her left fist wrapped around the wooden edge of the dining table as if it would keep her upright when another facility needed to be crossed off.

She refused to let her new dream die so soon.

The line rang a few times before a woman answered, “Serve It Up, here to serve. How can I help you? ”

Maya released a breath, ready to start the spiel again. “Hi, my name is Maya, and I’m calling to see if you do discounted rates for local charities. I’m in the early stages of starting one, something small, with the goal of coaching underprivileged children in the area after school. I’m looking to nail down a few details, like courts where I’ll be able to host the lessons, coaches who may be interested in volunteering a few hours of their time, and other things like that.”

There was a pause. Then the woman responded, “Sorry, I’m just writing this all down and taking a look at our calendar. Could you give me an idea of when you’d need the courts?”

“No worries! Ideally, we’d like to use the courts one to two evenings a week after school. I know that’s typically your busiest time, so we’re happy to take any hour or two you may have available here and there. Depending on how much it costs to rent the courts—”

“Nonsense. We take Tuesdays and every other Thursday off after noon. Typically, nobody’s around to run things here, but I’d be happy to come in and help out those days for a cause like this. I’ll talk to the owners about pricing, but four to six hours a week on days we don’t typically have lessons anyway shouldn’t cost much.”

Excitement zipped through Maya. This was the first time she wasn’t getting shut down, and she almost couldn’t believe it.

“Oh…well, that would be amazing, actually. I’d love to come by and talk more with you sometime soon if that would be okay? And just so I know who I’m talking to, could I get your name?”

“Silly me! I’m Viola Pearson, manager here at Serve It Up. You can come by any time in the next few weeks to chat and look at courts. Hopefully by then, I’ll have a schedule and rate for you. How does that sound?”

“That would be perfect. Thank you so much, Viola.”

Finally, a big win. Sure, it wasn’t confirmed, but Maya had needed this.

“Of course! I just need your first and last name, a phone number, and best email.”

Maya gave her the information.

“You wouldn’t happen to be Maya Beaumont, professional tennis player, would you?”

Maya was surprised. After she’d used her last name for the seventh facility in a row and received no indication that anyone knew who she was, she’d stopped mentioning it. For one, it felt icky to use her time on the tour to secure courts, but more than that, she felt a twinge of sadness that no one seemed to know who she was. Like nothing she’d accomplished meant anything to anyone but her.

She should’ve been used to it by now. Her brothers were professional football players, so it wasn’t unusual for her to be out of the limelight in comparison. Plus, no one, not even people in the tennis world, paid attention to players’ names unless they were playing in grand slams, which she hadn’t been doing much of. Still, it stung .

“I—Yes, I am.” Maya chuckled, almost in disbelief.

“Oh my.” Maya heard shuffling and then scratching, like Viola was writing something else down. “Well now I’m definitely going to get you those courts. You just come whenever you want next week and we’ll get everything figured out. I will ask for one thing though.”

Maya’s heart sank, and she hoped it wouldn’t cost too much.

“Oh, sure.”

“I would die if I could get a signed tennis ball from you, and I’d love to pick your brain about the tour a bit.”

Maya blew out a relieved breath. She tried to tamp down on the giddiness that filled her at knowing she had at least one fan. “Absolutely! I can do that for you.”

“Perfect. Well, Maya Beaumont, I hope to see you very soon.”

“You too,” Maya responded before the call disconnected.

She looked out the window, noting it was now dark, and rather than seeing out into the backyard, Maya only noticed the smile that stretched across her face.

Finally .

Maya knew she would need to get a job coaching on the side, no matter what happened with charity funding opportunities down the line. She made a note to ask Viola when she talked to her in person.

She had forgotten what it was like to be busy. To have a purpose, something to look forward to .

The day had been a roller coaster, and even though she was happy to have gotten a win, the feeling that she couldn’t accomplish a single thing without funding was dampening her spirits significantly.

Maya heaved a sigh. She’d done enough research for the day, and what she’d learned was that this would be challenging. Incredibly so. But she also knew it would be very rewarding.

From the age of twelve, Maya had had trouble asking for help, plain and simple. The moment she’d realized how her panic attacks were negatively impacting Colton, she’d slept with her bedroom door closed and sat in the bathtub when it came time to calm herself so she didn’t bother him.

Maya never again wanted to feel the way she’d felt that night, like the silly little sister who was ruining her brother’s chances on the field by screwing up his sleep schedule. Finding ways to do life on her own, invisible and amenable, was her motto.

Asking her brothers to help with the charity was out of the question. They’d done far too much for her in her lifetime and had their own lives to deal with. Plus, Maya didn’t want to mix family with business. It would make things weird and had the real possibility of creating tense situations.

Her eyes landed on the unopened text from Cooper, checking in on her charity-starting process, her heartbeat picking up at the knowledge that he was thinking about her. They’d been texting more since mini golf, just three or four texts a day, mostly checking in or, less often, Cooper joking that he was ready for his tennis lesson .

She wanted to talk to someone about the charity, and if she told Colton about how difficult it was going to be, he’d sweep in stubbornly and force his help, financial or otherwise, because that was just his way.

But Cooper wouldn’t be like that. He was a friend more than a brother.

Kind of.

It was a weird word for her and Cooper’s relationship. They’d spent enough time together in the past few years that they were no longer really acquaintances. And yet “friend” didn’t fully embody the flicker of feeling she’d gotten when he was at the house, talking her through his brother’s story. It didn’t properly explain how, even though she still felt the emptiness and anger lurking when she was with her brothers, something about being around Cooper seemed to chase it away entirely. Even getting a text from him during a lull in her day seemed to make her feel better.

Then there was their very real almost-kiss. It had been the most on fire and out of control she’d ever felt, and he’d barely touched her, never even let his lips brush hers. She didn’t think that was normal for a platonic relationship.

But that’s why he’d pulled away, she guessed. To keep that line between them clear.

So, she texted her friend .