Everyone at the table stopped talking and stared at him.
“Holy shit,” someone said.
“Dang, Alex,” another chimed in.
“Cool!”
“Well, all right-y then.”
Fin looked at Alex who was waiting for his reply and said, “Aye, I could eat a bite.”
The entire group roared with laughter, and that ended the introductions. A few more whispers went around the table, but in general, people went back to what they were doing. The waitress came over and took their order while the conversation returned to who was leading the tournament and updates on injuries.
Fin relaxed when no one probed further, but still felt on edge at the occasional click of a camera shutter or the quick motion of someone putting their phone back on the table. While it seemed like Alex’s friends were nonchalant about having a celebrity in their midst, his shoulders itched with wariness that their easygoing nature was a facade.
Their food came and, before Alex had taken more than a couple of bites, a brown-headed man across the way yelled over at her, “Alex, we’re up.”
“Oh, crap. Gotta run, Fin.” She pointed to a middle court as she nabbed a few more fries. “We’re on court four. You should be able to watch from here. See ya in a few.” She ran off, shoving fries in her mouth.
Fin watched as the two teams stretched and got ready to play. He sensed a presence beside him and looked up. The waitress held her pen and pad close, as if shielding it from him.
“Um, Mr. McAlister? Can I get your autograph?” she asked.
“Aye, what’s your name?” he asked as he reached for the pen. He hid his disappointment behind his Hollywood smile. Perhaps his goal to escape unnoticed had been too lofty.
“I’m Daisy. Please don’t tell Alex I bothered you. She’d kill me.”
“No worries, Daisy. There you go now.” He handed everything back to her.
“Thanks. Next drink’s on me.” She blushed and scurried away.
Fin turned his attention back to Alex’s court, where she and two men played against a team with two men and two women. Fin leaned over and asked the red-headed bloke next to him why Alex’s team only had three players.
“They’ve never been able to find another girl who they mesh with,” he responded.
The ginger turned and offered his hand. “Hi, I’m Scott. Alex and my girlfriend, Melissa, are tight.”
“Lovely to meet you,” Fin responded as he shook Scott’s hand. “What do you mean by ‘mesh?’”
“Oh, you know, they couldn’t find a steady rhythm with anyone else, so they just play with the three of them.”
“Doesn’t that make them handicapped?” Fin asked.
“You’d think so, but not really. They play well together so they don’t need a fourth. In fact, I think they actually won the league last time. Or maybe it was the time before. Anyway, they hold their own.”
Fin watched as Alex dove across the sand to keep the ball in play. He gasped, hoping she wasn’t hurt, but she bounced up and kept playing. In the next volley, her blond teammate set up the ball and Alex spiked it, earning a point for her team.
“Wow,” he exclaimed.
“Yeah, she’s good. You should see her with her women’s team—also my girlfriend’s team. You know, the net out here is higher. Only a few of the girls can spike on it. She’s a beast on a women’s net.” Scott’s voice filled with admiration as he watched the match.
“Scottie!” Andy hollered from across the deck. “We’re up. Court two.”
Scott stood up. “Gotta go. Hey man, they’ve got some foreign beers here if you’re not a fan of ‘weak Yankee beer.’” He laughed. “Probably not what you’re used to, but you might find something you like. Just tell Daisy to put it on Alex’s tab. We settle up at the end of the night. See you after the match.”
“Thanks, mate,” Fin replied and turned back to the match. When Daisy came around again, Fin inquired about the foreign beers and ordered a Heineken.
A few minutes later, Alex plopped in the chair beside him. “Man, I’m still hungry!” she exclaimed. Daisy dropped off Fin’s beer and she ordered another appetizer for them.
