"Gary, get me down there now." The anger in Emily's voice was hard to miss by anyone sitting around them, and the photographers in the audience got ready for anything that came of Della's teasing.
"Calm down, Sparky. She's trying to get to Parker through you, don't let that happen right before the match." Gary dragged Emily back to her seat and tried reason.
"I don't want to see that overgrown adolescent, I want to see Parker before this thing starts."
Parker looked up into the stands for Emily before heading back down the tunnel to change her shirt before the match only to be surprised to find she and Gary waiting for her deep enough into the tunnel that the spectators would see them. "Hey, what're you doing down here?"
"Waiting to wish you luck, and to tell you a few things," answered Emily.
"Hey, Gary would you grab me a fresh shirt?" Gary nodded his head and left to find Parker's stuff. The only one that didn't take the hint was Della, who leaned against the tunnel wall opposite them and just stared.
"Parker, if I asked you to do something for me, would you?"
"Sure, baby, if I can. What'd you want?"
"I want you to go out there and beat the crap out of that asshole over there," Emily pointed to Della and aimed her middle finger at her when the woman blew her a kiss again.
Parker smiled at the little blonde pit bull before pulling her close. "And what do I get if I pull that off. You know she's the one that beat the crap out of me last year?"
Emily could hear Gary coming back so she tugged the shirt Parker had on and peeled it off her body. She took the towel Gary had handed her and mopped off all the sweat Parker had exuded during her warm up before putting the new one on, keeping the old one. When Parker had tucked the new billboard as she called them, Emily dragged her head down and kissed her.
"You want to know what you get?" Parker nodded her head so Emily pulled her back down again and started whispering in her ear. Gary almost fainted when whatever Emily was saying started to make Parker so weak in the knees she had to lean against the wall. When she was done, Emily kissed Parker's ear and looked up at her.
"Really?" asked Parker.
"Yes, and I'll even take the phone off the hook but only if I get to come back here Sunday for the finals to watch you play."
"You should give motivational classes," said Parker, as she and Della watched Emily unbutton the shirt she had on, take it off and hand it to Parker.
"For luck." Emily tucked it into Parker's bag and put on the t-shirt Parker had just taken off. "I have to admit these look a lot better on you." Emily looked down to the loose fitting garment that smelled like Parker.
"I think you look good in my clothes, baby, and as soon as I'm finished kicking Della's ass, you'll look even better out of them."
The opponents had already been introduced and had taken their places by the time Gary and Emily made it back to their seats. Della was serving first and while Parker jumped on every one that came over the net, the level of Della's play held on and she won the game. The first photograph that most of the paparazzi shot of Emily was of her biting her thumbnail when Della broke Parker's serve and went up two games to none.
It was amazing to Parker less than an hour later as she sat toweling off her face that she had lost the first set winning not one game. She looked toward Della watching the last of the water in the bottle she was drinking slide down her throat. The idiot didn't even look all that winded.
"Do you think she'll deliver all the stuff she promised you if I win? Tell her I'm staying at the Hilton if she's only interested in sleeping with the winner. All that delicious looking skin looked mighty inviting." Della was starting the next part of her game plan, which was to mess with Parker's mind destroying what was left of her concentration.
"She's not your type, Della." Parker sounded calm despite the fact all she wanted to do was get up and smash every racquet in her bag over the woman's head.
"Blonde, beautiful and sexy. What about all that isn't my type?"
"She's all that, but she's human, I only thought you were into dogs. Or is that the only kind of bitch you can get to go out with you? You know, you should really be careful about how much you drink when going out for the evening. At closing time everyone seems to look like my girl, but I'm convinced it's the lighting in those places."
"Laugh it up, King. Forty minutes to go before you get to go home to the bitch so she can lick your wounds."
"What Emily licks on me, asshole, is really not any of your business."
"Quiet please." Parker waited for the crowd to follow the man's instructions before she turned around and asked for some balls. It was time to give Della Sanchez a taste of what she loved to dish out.
"Fifteen, love." The score got the crowd into the game and the announcer to scream into every radio headphones in the stadium. Parker King had woken up from the nap she had been taking during the first set.
"I don't know where that came from, but hopefully Parker can keep it up," said the excited radio announcer about the ace Parker had just served up.
Parker was feeling good and looking forward to the next to sets of tennis, because hell if she was losing this. To get Della even madder than she was from swinging and missing the serve, Parker moon walked to the other side of the court to serve again. This time the ball came over the net with the same intensity but Della got a piece of it only to have it skitter off into the stands. The crowd when wild when Parker twirled her racquet and pretended to holster it after the, "Thirty, love," came over the loud speakers.
"She's smoking now, tennis fans, and isn't Della surprised. And Ms. Sanchez should be grateful that the crowd came alive with Parker during those last couple of serves, because her language would have gotten her thrown out had the chair heard that last outburst." The announcer and everyone else watching could read the woman's lips though and he had been right.
The next hour was pinpointed by long blistering volleys that started to show wear on Della's face. The power player wasn't used to the amount of running Parker was making her do, and with each short run from one end of the court to the other, her face was starting to turn red.
In the middle of the third set, Della stopped play for at least five minutes to have an argument with the line judge over what she deemed to be a questionable call. Parker just bounced the ball on her side and looked up into the stands waving back to Emily who had stood and blown her a kiss for the tennis she had seen so far. Most of the reporters in the stands had not missed the change in attire when Emily and Gary got back to the stands. The new couple was making women's tennis even more exciting than it already was.