Suddenly, her head whipped up. “Oh my God, Melissa. I know what we can do.”

An excited smile spread across Melissa’s face. “What?”

Spencer extended her arm to pull her sister to her feet. “Come on. I’ll show you.”

Chapter 16

The Best Revenge

New Year’s Day dawned bright and cool. It was the perfect weather for a tennis tournament, and judging by the size and wardrobe of the crowd at the Longboat Key Tennis Club, everyone else thought so, too. Spencer, still wearing her sunglasses, sipped a diet soda and pretended to watch the junior division players while she waited for the signal from Melissa. She was scouring the courts, making sure Colin, his coach, Yvette, and even baby Brady were all accounted for.

“We’re on,” Melissa murmured into Spencer’s ear as she walked quickly past her. Spencer turned on her Toms-clad foot and followed her, ducking her head and feeling grateful that the straw hat she’d borrowed from Nana’s closet concealed her identity from the dozen or so Colin groupies who had positioned themselves right near the snack stand.

The walk to the locker rooms was brief and quiet, save for the occasional roar of the crowds in the distance whenever someone scored a point. Suddenly a group of girls in tennis whites passed down the hall. Melissa started laughing.

“Shhh.” Spencer clapped down on Melissa’s arm. “Do you want us to get caught?”

“This is just so priceless,” Melissa whispered, wiping her eyes.

The locker room door creaked open, and a tall guy who couldn’t have been much older than eighteen walked into the hall. Melissa peered through the door. “So you’re sure Colin’s stuff is in there?”

Spencer nodded. When they’d arrived this morning, they’d checked all of the courts being used for the tournaments. A women’s match was taking place on the main court right now, but Colin had been practicing on a side court. “His bag isn’t with him. It’s not with Yvette, either. I don’t know where else it could be.”

“Okay, then.” Melissa pushed Spencer toward the door. “It’s now or never.”

Taking a deep breath, the girls pulled the men’s locker room door open and darted inside. The room was blessedly empty. Spencer scanned the aisles, searching frantically for Colin’s lime-green Adidas bag. She thought she saw it and crept down low, ready to pounce, when a loud creak reverberated off the metal lockers. She froze. A pair of footsteps strode away, followed by the sound of the door opening and closing. She let out her breath, waited another few seconds, and then leapt to the bag, which, sure enough, was embroidered with his initials. Her hands shook as she undid the zipper and rooted around the T-shirts, socks, extra rackets, tube of balls, and jar of muscle cream. Finally, she found what she was looking for at the very bottom: a bottle of lemon-lime AminoSpa. Yes.

“I got it,” she said to Melissa. Melissa pulled out the bottle of Viagra they’d stolen from Nana’s drawer and emptied a pill into her palm.

“We should use more than one,” Spencer whispered. “More like two. Or three.”

Melissa nodded and pulled out two more pills. They used the bottom of the AminoSpa bottle to crush them up until they were a fine powder, then dumped them into the lemony liquid.

“When is Colin going on again?” Melissa murmured.

“An hour, I think,” Spencer whispered.

“Perfect.”

After the mission was complete, they took seats at the court Colin would be playing on and waited for the show to start.

The women’s match finished quickly. The fans filed off the bleachers and a new cheering section shuffled in. Colin’s groupies filled the front row. Yvette appeared as well, holding the baby and looking perfectly annoyed. The chair and line judges took their places, and finally, the men’s locker room doors opened and two guys walked onto the court.

Melissa grabbed Spencer’s hand as Colin proudly paraded toward his chair, green gear bag slung over one arm, bottle of AminoSpa in the other. Lemon-lime AminoSpa, to be exact. Spencer had to clap a hand over her mouth to keep from bursting out laughing.

Colin dropped the bag on the court and gazed into the stands, waving dutifully to his wife and shooting his groupies a zillion-watt smile. Then he turned around and took a long swig of AminoSpa, tilting his head back and letting the liquid drip down his throat. Spencer dug her nails into Melissa’s palm.

Colin and his opponent batted the ball back and forth for a while until they were ready to play. He won the first few games effortlessly, his serve accurate, his backhand shots impossible to return, his court angles deft and brilliant. The groupies went wild. Spencer wondered if Yvette knew that her husband was a letch, but even if she did Yvette simply held up Brady’s arms and clapped them together, smiling proudly at her husband.

Spencer looked at Melissa worriedly. “Why isn’t anything happening?”

“Give it time,” Melissa murmured.

Four more games passed in much the same way. Colin won the first set easily, and his followers cheered. Spencer’s hopes began to drain away. Maybe Viagra didn’t work when dissolved. Or maybe Colin had been drinking from a different bottle of AminoSpa.

But suddenly, in the first game of the second set, something began to happen. Colin kept glancing at his crotch, a concerned look on his face. His movements became stiffer, uncomfortable. He missed some easy shots, swiveling around so that his back faced the crowd. When it was his turn to serve and he threw the ball into the air, his shorts pulled in such a way that it was obvious that the crushed Viagra had, well, worked.




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