Match Pointe. Indigo Bloome

the potential gain or loss of such a huge sum. Instead, the beauty of a tall young blonde a few feet away captured his eye. With a sly wink he beckoned her close, whispering in her ear that she was his good luck charm. It was only when she returned his smile that he let his eyes focus on the tiny silver ball slowing towards black thirteen as if it were magnetically attracted to the number.

      The ball fell into place, and the crowd who had gathered around the table erupted into applause as Tony walked away $1 million richer. He graciously accepted the envious congratulations of those around him, and the gratis upgrade to the Emperor’s Suite proffered by hotel management. Needless to say, he wasted no time in bedding the stunning babe, who had more than happily accompanied him and his newly acquired funds to the suite.

      At first Tony was shocked by the news of her pregnancy, but given that the conception had occurred on the luckiest night of his life, it seemed fate was sending him a definite sign. The woman had no interest in becoming a mother at the peak of her youth and beauty, so he made her an offer any young student with a substantial college debt would find difficult to refuse. A healthy, strong baby boy was delivered into the world, and once the obligatory paternity tests were completed, the biological mother willingly accepted the bonus money they had agreed on, granting Tony full custody of his only son and disappearing from their lives forever.

      Caesar had wanted for nothing during his youth as he was groomed to be the heir of his father’s financial throne. He became the only true love of his father’s life. Tony was determined that Caesar would have all the refinements he’d lacked in his humble upbringing in Italy. So it was inevitable that Tony would choose the prestigious six-centuries-old Eton College to educate his only son. Fortunately the college had no problem accepting Tony’s ostentatious new money.

      Caesar excelled academically, more so in mathematics than in any other subject. Although he won several mathematics awards across Europe and was the youngest player ever to represent Britain in bridge, Caesar didn’t necessarily understand what all the fuss was about. It all came so easily to him that it was as natural as breathing.

      It was only after he discovered the game of tennis in his first year of secondary school that his true passion was ignited. In his mind, tennis was the ultimate sport, dwarfing all others. The idea that a grand slam was all down to two players after a fortnight of competition intrigued him. Only one player could outplay, outsmart, outwit and out-hit the other. There were no teammates to confer with, rely on or blame; two solo players were left to fight it out on court, bound only by the rules of the game.

      To win you had to have everything – the physical and mental stamina, skill, consistency, tenacity and most importantly the absolute belief in yourself, that you deserved to win and had the capacity to do so. At the end of the day only one person would take all the glory.

      Tennis appealed to Caesar in a way that other sports didn’t. It got under his skin. He felt more alive watching Wimbledon than at any other time during his schooling. It was as though he belonged there in some way.

      From that point on Caesar channelled much of his energy into the game of tennis, and even managed to crack into the top one hundred on the junior tennis circuit when he was fifteen years old – albeit briefly. Unfortunately, a bad skiing accident left his knee structurally damaged and unable to live up to the relentless demands of the game. Though he was bitterly disappointed, the accident neither deterred nor diluted his interest in the game. He hadn’t missed a tournament at Wimbledon since his first year at Eton, and he didn’t plan on missing any in the future.

      In fact, the accident spurred him on to become involved in the sport in other ways, and sparked his interest in the players moving up through the rank and file. He knew many of the players personally, and he began to learn what motivated them, when they had their off days and on days, and where they derived their desire to win.

      Suddenly he was intrigued by the game for completely different reasons, as his mathematical brain took over and he developed a program called ‘Junior Jousts’ for betting on each of the players. His father fully supported and funded his first foray into sports gambling. It was so successful his father applied a similar mathematical model to identify arbitrage opportunities for professional sports and the money came rolling in. Why? some asked. His father responded simply. ‘Because it is Caesar’s destiny. He was born under a star where winning is the only way.’ Caesar revered Tony, and the most important thing in his life was to continue to make his father proud.

      * * *

      Caesar was now in his forties, and still attended every grand slam, never short of a jaunty handkerchief and cravat to complement his impeccable hand-tailored suits and glistening polished shoes. He made a point of establishing a connection with each of the top ten players in the world at any given time, engineering reasons to meet up with them more regularly. That way he came to know them very personally – just as some horse-racing punters build steam rooms in their homes to become better acquainted with jockeys. This close association was the reason why he was able to sign most of the top players up with his elite agency.

      Even though The Edge employed dedicated staff to look after his clients’ every whim and sponsorship deals, Caesar liked to provide a more personalised service. It was important to him that the players had direct access to him – not a relationship per se but certainly an identifiable association. So he offered them excellent rates to stay in his luxurious hotels and to be seen in his glamorous entertainment and gambling establishments, usually in his company.

      His motive was undeniably twofold. Not only did he derive great personal pleasure from being directly connected with the greats of tennis stardom, but at the end of the day, it also made good business sense and gave him ultimate control over the players he endorsed.

      Yet most of all, he was passionate about testing his automated betting models against his personal insights into each player’s capabilities and state of mind. And that was why he so enjoyed the obscenely sized individual bets he made with his billionaire friends in their secretive ‘Club Zero’ aptly named for the number of zeroes that accompanied each transaction – often on par with the size of the egos placing them! Caesar’s gambling was as highly informed as it could be, since on some occasions the bets placed entire companies at stake. Companies Caesar strategically pursued for his ever-expanding empire.

      The only other part of his life that kept him engaged – in a non-business sense – was his philanthropic interest in the Royal Ballet. Some called it his hobby. The beauty and graceful movement of the dancers provided him with a sense of serenity he didn’t experience elsewhere. Perhaps it was a way to make up for the lack of feminine energy in his father’s male-dominated world? No one was sure … nevertheless, his substantial contributions to the Ballet’s Benevolent Fund had secured his prestigious invitation to become a member of the Board of Trustees. Accepting this role meant he had access to the ears of London’s high society, not to mention association with the aristocracy – lords, baronesses and even HRH the Prince of Wales and Her Majesty the Queen (who disappointingly had no interest in tennis whatsoever, but fortunately was an avid patron of the arts).

      To know Caesar, you had to know three things. First, his father was the ultimate role model in his life. Second, tennis was his absolute passion. And third, his love of ballet was his greatest pastime. Other than the finer things in life his bank balance could afford, he treated everything else with absolute disdain.

       Eloise

      To those in the know, Eloise Lawrance was the latest up-and-coming star on Britain’s ballet scene, and had just been chosen to dance the lead in Swan Lake. Her movements were technically perfect, her timing precise, and due to her young age perhaps she could be forgiven for lacking a little passion or soul in her otherwise flawless performances.

      Eloise was uniquely beautiful, though she only ever saw the imperfections in herself. Men and women alike were attracted to her fragile radiance, but she never noticed their attentions. She wished her fingers were a little longer and her feet were more delicate, but most of all she longed for her hair to be manageable and straight – which was why she seldom wore it out. Her soft translucent