THE BUSINESS
After the day’s matches, Eric made a quick round to ensure the event was running smoothly, quietly arranging for Evolve Sports Group souvenirs to be handed out free to select spectators. With the optics secured, he left the stadium in a hurry. When he arrived at Ama’s house, she was already on her private court, drilling patterns and refining strategies with Coach Marcel—work continuing long after the crowd had gone home.
“Hi, love, congratulations on a well-deserved win. You were brilliant out there,” Eric said warmly. He stepped forward, pulling Ama into a tight hug, then pressed a quick kiss to her lips. “Baby, that performance was incredible. Everyone’s talking about it.”
Coach Marcel cleared his throat pointedly.
Eric paused, registering the moment. This wasn’t the time. He stepped back and took a seat on the nearby bench, watching silently as Ama and Marcel resumed their drills. Inside, he buzzed with excitement, relieved, energized, already mapping out the next phase of his plan now that everything was back on course.
Not long afterward, Marcel excused himself, leaving Ama to recover for the second round.
She moved slowly toward Eric, fatigue settling into her limbs. Sweat traced deliberate paths down her skin, the training gear clinging to a body shaped by discipline and sacrifice. Eric watched her approach, struck—again—by how effortlessly she commanded his attention even in exhaustion.
She stopped in front of him.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Eric reached for a towel, instinct more than thought, and gently dabbed at the sweat on her leg. The contact lingered just a second too long. Ama’s breath hitched. His hand stilled.
The air between them tightened.
Eric, while still sitting, pulled her close, his voice low and unsteady.
“You should rest,” he murmured—though neither of them moved.
Ama closed her eyes briefly, leaning into him, the unspoken weight of the day pressing between them.
Eric bit his lips gently as she stood tall over him. ‘What a beauty,’ Eric thought. He gently dabbed at the sweat on her thigh with the towel, and he lost control. He pulled her close to him and slid his finger between her legs. “Yes,” she whispered as his fingers found her clit and massaged around it. all while she was standing. He worked his other hand down the front of her shirt and into her bra, finding her nipple with ease and pulsing his finger and thumb to squeeze her nipple as he sped the rhythm of his fingers in her panties.
She was panting as the pressure built. There was so much danger of being caught, doing this at the court, when anyone at all could walk in on them. Which only made it hotter.
Eric unzips his trousers and pulls out his stiff, pulsating dick. Ama, looking so hypnotized, straddled him. He then shifted her panties left and pulled her down to sit on him. While he entered her, they both gasped. They did it till they were both exhausted and went into the house to sleep.
The sharp buzz of the alarm on Eric’s watch pulled them awake. Three hours had vanished. The light had shifted. Time, suddenly, mattered again.
Eric moved first, sitting up with a quiet urgency. He reached for Ama, rubbing her arms gently, grounding her before she was fully awake.
“Baby,” he said softly, “I love you. And I want us to have a future, something solid, something lasting.”
Ama blinked, still foggy.
“I’ve been thinking,” he continued, carefully choosing his words. “About making you a partner in my company.”
Her eyes widened instantly.
“A partner?” she breathed, sitting up and wrapping her arms around him. “That’s… that’s lovely.”
Eric smiled, just enough.
“I’ve drafted a contract,” he said calmly, reaching for the folder on the bedside table. “So we can run this business together. Build something that outlives tournaments and seasons.”
Ama’s heart swelled as she held him.
How thoughtful he is, she thought. How intentional.
She didn’t notice how steady his hands were.
Or how ready the papers already looked.
They sat side by side across a table. That matters to him.
“Ama,” he says quietly, “before we talk business, I need you to hear something human.”
She turns. He’s not smiling the way men smile when they want something. He looks… careful.
“I love what you represent. Not just the wins. The discipline. The way you don’t beg the room to believe in you.”
Ama exhales. Praise lands easier when it feels earned.
“I want to build something this with you,” he continues.
That word—future—settles between them.
Eric finally slides the contract closer. He doesn’t point at clauses yet.
“Right now, Ama Duplan is becoming bigger than tennis,” he says.
“And that’s dangerous if it happens too fast.”
He lets her nod first.
“Everyone will want a piece of you—brands, causes, side ventures. All adjacent to your name.”
He doesn’t say exploit.
He doesn’t need to.
“My job,” he says, “is to make sure none of that fractures your core.
Ama looks up fully now.
Partner.
He lets the word breathe.
“But real partnership,” he adds softly, “comes after proof. From both sides.”
Not if.
After.
Eric turns one page.
“For the first eighteen months, we keep Ama Duplan singular.
No adjacent ventures. No side deals. Nothing touching your name without alignment.”
Ama hesitates.
“Eighteen months is a long time.”
Eric nods immediately; agreement disarms resistance.
“Exactly. Which is why it means something.”
Then the key line:
“Once we hit our growth benchmarks, your partnership becomes fully effective.”
Ama leans in.
“What benchmarks?”
Eric smiles—not sharply, but reassuringly.
“Market stability. Brand maturity. Sustainable revenue.”
All real words.
None measurable.
He continues before she can pin him down.
“I don’t want to lock you into numbers that don’t respect context,” he says.
“Tennis seasons change. Markets fluctuate.”
It sounds considerate.
“So Evolve evaluates performance holistically.”
Ama frowns slightly.
Eric leans closer, not invading, just present.
“This isn’t me holding you back,” he says gently.
“It’s me making sure when you step into partnership, you do it from strength, not pressure.”
He adds, almost like an afterthought:
“I’ve seen athletes rush into side ventures and regret it forever.”
He doesn’t name names.
Her mind supplies them.
Then he lowers his voice.
“I wouldn’t ask this if I didn’t believe in you long-term.”
There it is.
Belief.
Commitment.
Future.
“Give me eighteen months to prove Evolve deserves to call you a partner.”
Ama looks at the clause again.
Refusal of all Ama Duplan–adjacent ventures for 18 months.
It reads like restraint.
It feels like trust.
Eric doesn’t rush her.
“If at any point we’re not moving toward partnership,” he says, “we reassess.”
He knows they won’t.
Because reassess has no teeth.
Ama signs.
Not because she’s naive.
Because she believed love was expressed, partnership was promised, and possible delays would only test her discipline.
And Eric got exactly what he wanted.
… to be continued.
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LOVE AND TENNIS. Episode 13 | By Kafui Avaworyi | Crowdpen
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