Page 6 of Rivals and Liars

"Besides," she adds, leaning forward because she suddenly feels uncomfortable in her own home, "Isaac agreed when I brought it up."

"Speaking of Isaac," her father cuts in, "the Costel renewal is important for your career and you already know what the clauses say. You should think about being seen with someone. A woman who's been single this long starts to raise questions. Marlon Archer — the tennis player — just retired, as I'm sure you know, and he's moved to Madrid. He'd be perfect for—"

"I'm not going out with him, Dad," she says flatly, wondering why she let him get that far.

"Are you still seeing her?" he snaps, and Leire swallows.

Again, she wants to push back — to tell him that she has a name, that her name is Kate Brogan, and that all it takes is seeing her smile for her whole world to light up — but like always, she doesn't say what she's thinking, and lets it all keep festering inside her.

"I'm tired, Dad. Can we leave it for today?"

He presses his lips together and runs a bony hand through his silver hair. Bruno Cobos is tall and too thin, but he's a fairly attractive man at only fifty-two — they had her young — though his looks don't do him much good, because Bruno is still in love with his late wife and can't seem to move on.

"I stocked the fridge for the next few days," he says as he stands, "and I ordered your favorite burger for tonight. The delivery guy will come around nine, but if you want it earlier I can call and—"

"Nine is perfect, Dad, thank you." Leire steps over and kisses his cheek.

Bruno has his flaws, but he also has the kind of goodness that makes his daughter love him fiercely despite the emotional distance between them.

"Don't tell Isaac or he'll accuse me of sabotaging your diet," he says as she walks him to the door.

Chapter 4

"I'll take you out as soon as the rain stops, I promise," Kate says, leaning over Banjo, the dog who's been part of her family for six years and who's now wagging his tail desperately in front of the kitchen door that leads to the backyard.

She landed yesterday and is now at her parents' house in Melbourne, the way she always does when she comes back home.

Kate has never bought any property in Australia, despite her parents' insistence that she should have something there. She tells herself it's because she prefers company when she arrives exhausted from traveling and tournaments, but the truth is she doesn't plan to live in her home country when she retires.

She loves Europe, where she has Irish roots because her parents are from the north side of Dublin. They emigrated to Australia forty years ago, and both their children—Conor and Kate—were born there, but she has no intention of living in Ireland either, since if she had, she would've bought something there instead of in Madrid and Madeira.

Her first purchase was in the Azores six years ago. A modern villa with an infinity pool where she usually spends her vacations. She loves being there, completely disconnected from everything. The other she bought two years ago in Madrid, in a gated community called La Finca. An ultra-private area with extremely tight security that serves as her home base when she's in Europe playing tournaments. Kate doesn't lie to herself—she'd wanted a house in Spain for a long time, even though she had no particular preference for any one city, and the only reason she chose Madrid was to be closer to Leire. But it didn't do much good, because the Spanish woman is so afraid of them being found out that she's never once visited her there, nor has she ever invited the redhead to her house in La Moraleja.

"Here, this'll help you clear your head," her mother says, handing her a coffee while Kate stays by Banjo at the garden door, watching the rain hit the paving stones and slide down the leaves of the trees like she's just as desperate as he is to get outside.

"Thanks." Kate takes the mug and sets it on the marble counter so she can zip her hoodie all the way up.

The hardest part of coming home is adjusting to the change in temperature. June in Paris is warm and marks the beginning of summer, but in Melbourne it's winter—cold and rainy for half the days.

"Did you get any rest?" her mother asks.

Kate tries to hold back a yawn but doesn't manage it.

"Enough," she lies, because the nearly twenty-four hours of flying always leave her so drained that she has a hard time sleeping afterward.

She's starting to make toast when the front door opens and the dog takes off running. Kate hears her brother Conor's voice greeting Banjo, and her face lights up. She gets up slowly—there were several patches of turbulence on the flight that aggravated her back, and now she's afraid of any sudden movement.

"There you are." Conor walks into the kitchen in his firefighter uniform and opens his arms to wrap her up, and she—despite the pain—jumps into them.

Her brother is three years older than her and has known since he was little that he wanted to be a firefighter.

"Are you on duty?" Kate asks, smiling as she looks at him.

"Yeah, nothing exciting though. We're heading to a school to run a fire drill, and I asked Tommy to stop here for a minute so I could see you."

"Then sit down and eat something—you're way too thin," her mother orders. "And tell Tommy to come inside. I didn't raise you to leave your friends standing out on the street."

"We're in a hurry, Mom," he protests, then turns to Kate. "So, going out early in Paris, huh?" he teases. "What happened? Did the Russian's death stare freak you out?"