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Olivia loved summer because it meant one thing - Wimbledon. For the past three years she managed to get on the social media team just in time for the tournament and it was always the highlight of her year. Being an intern meant most of the players didn’t associate Olivia with THE media team that was asking yet again some chronically online but unclear question. Most importantly, they pitied her for being an intern so she was never the aim of their annoyance. Olivia couldn’t say she was “friends” with the players but the top seeds coming back did recognise her and even knew her name. That did not apply to Jannik Sinner, though.
The young Italian grew fond of the girl after his various encounters with the social media team. Not romantically, no, of course not. He liked that Olivia always took his time and personal space into consideration, that she wasn’t insisting. Jannik hoped she didn’t get in trouble because he said no to another TikTok.
He remembered when they first met very well. It was the 2022 Wimbledon when he managed to finally get to the quarterfinals and Olivia was an intern for the first time. They passed each other earlier but they first talked when Olivia was sent to ask him if her supervisor could chat with Jannik a bit after he won the match that landed him a spot in the quarterfinals.
“Um, e- excuse me? Mr Sinner?” Olivia said, her voice thin and unsure. Mr? She must've been his age, there's no point in formalities, right? Or is he the one looking old?
“Jannik is fine. What's up?” He asked, ensuring his bag is placed securely on his shoulder.
“Sorry, I'm Olivia, intern at the social media team. My- my boss is asking if you would be interested in a short interview? It's absolutely alright if you're too busy or- or just not in the mood honestly but-” The girl started spiraling as Jannik took her in. Thick rimmed glasses similar to those hidden in his bag covered half her face and her hair was all frizzy, held together with a claw clip and hope. She wore an oversized t-shirt and some baggy jeans, definitely not something he'd expect from a girl on the social media team.
“Yeah, I'd love to.” Jannik cut her monologue short. “Lead the way.”
Olivia was really sad after he got knocked out in the quarterfinal, much later telling Jannik it was because her boss would let her film something for their Instagram with him if Jannik won and, of course, wanted to. That’s when Jannik said something even he didn’t expect.
“We can still meet up for a coffee, though. If you want to just like talk.”
He should have been thinking about packing and practice because his London dream just finished, yet there he was, grabbing a coffee with the social media intern.
“Oh, okay. Yeah, that’d be nice.” Olivia could have sworn her face must have turned as red as a ripe tomato.
And that’s how their quasi-friendship started. In some coffee shop in central London, sun high up in the sky and the city too concerned with the Centre Court to notice the boy that just played there laughing louder than usual. Olivia waited for the next internship to further polish her resume and Jannik for the next chance to prove himself on grass. The coffee they grabbed together after he eventually got knocked out was an added bonus.
Olivia was a bit confused by Jannik. She was quite new to tennis but everyone told her he's the player to watch, he'll place his mark on the game soon. But all she could see was a lanky guy with ginger hair? And he was so awkward, made so many unfunny jokes that she laughed at despite that. That coffee together only made her more sure of that. Olivia couldn't say he was rude, not at all, and she did enjoy the conversation but maybe she imagined the future of tennis to be more charismatic? Hot?
***
It was the 2025 Wimbledon when Jannik came back to London’s grass courts with the weight of expectations on his shoulders and hope somewhere deep within. After the second round some new intern came up to ask if he could give a short interview for the social media team. Weird, that was always Olivia’s job. Maybe she decided to skip the tournament this year? Jannik hasn’t seen her in any areas that only the players and tournament’s staff could access. There goes not doing TikToks, he thought.
Jannik was led to the press corner where he met Lauren, the head of Wimbledon's media team, and then someone who he thought to be the most gorgeous woman he might have ever seen. Her hair cascaded in thick waves, the t-shirt clung to her chest and the red flowy skirt tied it all to make her look like a mediterranean goddess. How has Jannik never noticed her?
“It’s good to see you, Jannik. Always a pleasure having you here.” Said Lauren shaking his hand.
“Nice to see you too. And you are?” Jannik really wanted to know who the woman was.
“You don't remember Olivia?” Olivia? Olivia the intern? His Olivia? Oh God. Jannik wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole in that exact moment. How can he play it cool now?
“Yeah, of course I do! Sorry, I- I took out my contacts before the shower and forgot to put them back in so the details are kinda umm, fuzzy.” Lie. “Great to see you, Olivia.” Jannik wasn’t sure if his signature smile could help at all in this situation.
“Do you need a moment to get them back in?” Olivia asked, concern written all over her face.
“No, no, it’s fine. I see where the phone is, that's what matters.” Yes, that got him a laugh from the two women, that’s good.
The interview wrapped up in a couple of minutes and Jannik was packing up when he heard a very well known voice.
“¡Olivia! ¿Qué tal? ¿Cómo está la nueva maestra de relaciones públicas?” Carlos exclaimed as he got near the group, flashing his radiant smile and looking Olivia up and down. “¡Ay pero mírate! Te queda bien, por supuesto.”
“¡Basta ya, Carlos! Y me siento muy bien al no tener que ir a clases nunca más.” Maybe Jannik should really go to an ophthalmologist, huh? How could he not recognise her?
The two chatted for a moment longer and, from what Jannik's Italian let him understand of Spanish, set an hour for a similar interview with Carlos. That's when it hit him. Since when did Olivia speak Spanish? And was she close with Carlos?
“It was really nice seeing you again, Jannik.” Olivia said and after making sure Lauren was already a good distance away added “I want that champion's interview after the final.” It made the Italian's heart skip a beat.
“Let's not get ahead of ourselves, maybe. We'll probably end up going for a coffee like always, no?” Jannik chuckled in self-deprecation.
The two went their own ways and one thought was stuck in Jannik's head. When did Olivia get so hot?
***
Olivia was crouched together with all the photographers in their little bunker as she liked to call it. Sinner v. Alcaraz in the Wimbledon final. And he brushed her off when she suggested that! Olivia did watch Jannik's matches and she knew damn well he could do it. To be honest, she only started rooting for him after they first met. He made her feel like she wasn't invisible despite being only an intern. Olivia enjoyed those catch-ups with him each year over coffee. Jannik told her something funny from his travels around the world and she indulged his longing for stories from the life of a regular 20 year old. But then again, the coffee was bittersweet because it meant Jannik just got knocked out of the tournament and he's about to leave, the two hoping they just see each other next year, too.
There was something different, new about Jannik personally though. Olivia noticed it when passing the Italian during the tournament. He held his head higher and he looked like he finally grew into his own body. The smiles he sent Olivia were absolutely disarming. It wasn't Jannik, the lanky and awkward boy anymore. No, it was Sinner, the confident and calculated man. That's kinda hot, she thought.
Olivia watched the match holding her breath. But there it finally was, Jannik's match point. If her heart was beating rapidly before, then now it must have forgotten how to in the wave of emotions. The photographers surrounding her readied their cameras, the audience fell silent.
“YES!” Shouted Olivia throwing her arms in the air.
Game, set, match, Sinner. The audience erupted in cheers, everyone clapping, whistling, and shouting. There on the grass stood Jannik, his own arms high above his head in triumph. He did it! He actually did it! Olivia could not contain her joy and celebrated with one of the Italian photographers standing near. They were shouting at each other and hugging. Oh, how happy she was!
.
.
.
Shit, the dinner!
Olivia bolted to the media team's office. Thank God she expected the match to take a while so she brought her dress with her. Green silk wrapped around her and felt pleasantly cold after the scorching heat of the day. Dress, shoes, make up, favourite necklace and the hair… Yeah, the hair was okay enough. Thankfully, the tournament provided the delegated staff with transportation so Olivia didn't have to catch the tube all elegant, nor spend a weekly wage on a taxi.
She sat in the back of the car with Lauren, friendly chatter accompanying them through London traffic.
“So, I've heard you called dibs on the interview with our new champion.” Said Lauren.
“I wouldn't call it dibs… More like a use of networking?” Olivia tried to explain herself with a smile. “Oh I know! It's working smart, not hard.”
“You're impossible.” Lauren said with a chuckle. “We shouldn't show favouritism to the players, you know, right?”
That's not favouritism, thought Olivia. We're literally friends, why wouldn't I be the one to interview him? It's going to be more natural this way.
Once they arrived at the venue, Olivia had to remind herself that she was still working but oh, the glamour of the occasion! As an intern, she was never invited and was jealous of those from the team who could attend. When Lauren told Olivia before the tournament she'd be the one to accompany her to the dinner, the young woman almost jumped from excitement. Her friends were most excited to help her look for the dress and they deemed the final choice perfect.
Within 30 minutes everyone was there. Well, everyone besides Jannik and his team. Olivia managed to have a small conversion with Iga Świątek, while waiting for the new gentlemen's singles champion, and the two came to a solid conclusion - men just take longer getting ready than women. The whole room buzzed with hushed conversations, anticipation palpable in the air.
It was almost missed when the doors opened and in walked the entourage, then the family and at last, him. Looking smug as ever, so confident in his suit but with the hair still so unruly. Jannik looked like a king walking into his throne room. Maybe that's exactly who he was. While walking to his table, Jannik sent nods and smiles towards people he passed but not to Olivia. No, he winked at her. The gesture was thought through, he did that fully conscious and Olivia would be lying if she said she didn't blush at that. Who was that and what did he do to her Jannik? No, genuinely, where was the awkward boy always in sweatpants or his match kit these past two weeks? The suit, the confidence (probably derived from alcohol but oh well), most importantly the smile. It suited him and definitely did not ease the thoughts Olivia's been having about the Italian. God, he looks so hot, she thought to herself. Soon, the ceremonies started. Jannik gave a short interview on stage, hands in his pockets and self-satisfaction written all over his face and then… he danced?! Olivia was familiar with the traditions but he was the last person she expected to follow through with this one. Not that Iga was known to be the most extroverted. She looked equally surprised seeing how much Jannik enjoyed their dance, even spinning her around. Olivia laughed into her champagne flute as Jannik spotted her from the stage and sent her a full grin. She couldn't say they were the closest of friends but Olivia truly has never seen the Italian like that.
“What has gotten into him?” Said someone at Olivia's table.
“Liquid luck, I'd presume.” Laughed Lauren.
Soon after that all the ceremonials wrapped up and all Olivia could hear was chatter, knives on porcelain and glasses clinking. She was sitting in a perfect spot to steal glimpses at the Italian. The two were a few tables away and yet perfectly opposite each other. Olivia saw Jannik laugh at some joke his couch made and welcome his mother's comforting touch with a sheepish smile. Given this ideal arrangement of seats, a certain redhead also diverted his attention to a beautiful lady in green.
Jannik was feeling… well, a bit hazy given the champagne consumed after his triumph earlier that day. Most importantly, he was feeling like the happiest man in the world. He, Jannik Sinner, won at Wimbledon. He truly did. Everyone saw that and they even have it on camera! Both of these made him sure he was floating, not walking. All the stress and the pressure and the worries left him and were replaced with pure bliss and happiness. He couldn't remember being this light-hearted. Oh and one more thing! He could not stop looking at Olivia. If he had already compared her to a goddess when she wore a t-shirt and a skirt, then seeing her in green silk left him speechless. No words in German, Italian, English or any language for that matter, known or unknown to him, could describe her beauty. Jannik had to make use of his state tonight. He had to ask Olivia out. He'll talk to her when they're all done eating. Yes, that's a good idea… if it weren't for the fact that everyone and their mother was coming up to him trying to strike a conversation. “Hey, so my nephew plays tennis and he's a huge fan…” or “Seeing you out there today was incredible!” or even “You probably don't want to come back to your hotel room alone.” No, no, no. Jannik would laugh awkwardly or give a polite smile any other day but not when he was running out of time to talk to who he could only call the woman of his dreams or else he'd have to just pray she'd still be waiting for him in London next year. No, right now every word in his direction made him only more irritated and well, his mother wasn't blind.
“Is everything okay, love?” She asked. “You look like you're going to bite the next person that comes up to the table.” That's when Jannik made a mistake. He looked at Olivia and his mother would be stupid not to follow his gaze. “Ah, I see.”
“Everyone just wants to talk to me and I don't want to be rude but I think I'll bite whoever comes up next.” He finally admitted, arms slouched and voice low. Sometime during all these social tortures music started to play and people got up to dance.
“Then be rude.” Said his mother. “You're young, drunk and just won a grand slam. Be rude, you have every right to tonight.”
Jannik looked at the woman, absolutely confused. “Shouldn't you be the one to say something like, oh well, you have a duty and you must fulfil it, sucks to be you?”
“Your duty was to play the match to the best of your abilities and then show up here as the champion. The official part of the evening ended so what's stopping you now? You have a free will and you can do whatever you want.”
Shit, she was right! Jannik didn't have to talk to these people! And he did have free will! Sometimes, with all the expectations put on him, he truly forgot that. He looked at Olivia. She was smiling lightly, listening to some story being told at her table, a glass of white wine in her hand. Get it together, thought Jannik to himself, it's now or never. He walked away from his table without another word. His eyes were fixed on the woman completely occupying his thoughts for the past two weeks. He had to throw a few “not now, sorry"s and “maybe another time"s on his way to Olivia's table. She did not look once at him maneuvering between tables, not even when he almost crashed with a waiter. Good God, help me, he thought. What was he supposed to say? What was he supposed to do? The alcohol induced confidence almost fully evaporated by the time he arrived at Olivia's table.
“May I have this dance?” Olivia heard from behind her and she'd recognise that accent anywhere. There he was, in all of his glory, just right next to her chair, his hand stretched out in invitation. Olivia's heart skipped a beat. Jannik Sinner wanted to dance with her, of all the people gathered. She was surprised he thought of her, well, at all.
Olivia excused herself and got up, placing her hand in Jannik's much bigger one. The skin was rough and she felt blisters all over, proof to his countless hours of hard work and sacrifice. Jannik led her to the dance floor where a slower song was just starting to play. His hold was firm, as if the man was afraid Olivia would simply slip away. The two started swaying to the music. Jannik thought of the silk under his fingertips on Olivia's waist, how cool and soft the fabric was, just what his overworked dry hands needed. But what now? they both thought. They were close, very close, all according to the visions the two indulged in since the second round but suddenly no words seemed fit. Should they talk about the weather? The tournament? Each other? How do you strike a conversation with someone you know well enough but suddenly want more? When you want whispers and touches, breakfasts and twilights?
“I haven't congratulated you,” suddenly said Olivia which pulled Jannik from the spiral starting to form in his mind. “You were amazing on the court. It was pure pleasure to watch you.”
“You watched the match? I haven't seen you in the audience.” Maybe it's a good thing Jannik didn't know about the woman's presence during the final or he would've gotten distracted. Or maybe it would've motivated him more.
“Oh, I was with the photographers, in that little bunker.” That drew a chuckle from the Italian. Who else could call the photo pit a bunker other than Olivia? “I celebrated the win with a lovely compatriot of yours.”
“Really? It's nice to know you celebrated it at all.” Jannik finally dared to look at her. Olivia's lipstick wore off a little bit from the dinner and her hair got a tad frizzy and tangled. The man couldn't tell if the blush on her cheeks was makeup, the result of alcohol or maybe, and Jannik wanted this to be true, that's how their closeness affected Olivia. She was so beautiful. How has he not seen it before?
“How could I not celebrate the victory of a friend?” Was Jannik surprised she rooted for him? Did he expect her to cheer on Carlos? Not that Olivia didn't like the Spaniard. He was a great practice buddy for her rusty Spanish, the language she has almost forgotten since the days of her Erasmus fluency had passed. But Carlos was nothing more. A polite conversation here, some jokes there. That was all.
“Sorry, I thought you'd root for Carlos like almost everyone besides my family.” Jannik chuckled in self-deprecation. “Actually, one of my cousins does prefer him but I think that's because I was always the better skier out of us two and he's just jealous. As in, out of my cousin and I. I have no clue if Carlos can even ski at all.” Wow. Hold the verbal diarrhea, Sinner. “Sorry, I'm rambling. Thank you. That's what I wanted to say. ”
“You have nothing to apologise for. It's cute.” Olivia found it endearing how all the self-assurance Jannik emitted since he walked in disappeared. She made the world no. 1 tongue-tied and blush. “And Carlos is a nice guy but he's not my friend and I would choose to root for a friend any day.”
Friend. It's the second time she used that word in the conversation. Could Jannik be nothing more? “It's nice to know you think that we're friends. I always enjoyed that coffee we grabbed at the end.” Olivia melted seeing the smile Jannik sent her way. She could see the dimples that formed in his cheeks and the freckles scattered on his face. It made the woman's stomach flip. She didn't think how intensely her body would react to the physical closeness with Jannik.
“Oh my God, you're right! The coffee!” Olivia exclaimed. “You're too cool and successful now to grab coffees with the social media interns!” The two laughed.
“Well, with interns maybe… but not with full-time employees, no? Especially if they're a friend.” That was his chance. Come on, follow the script.
“Am I being asked out for a coffee by the Wimbledon champion?” Olivia teased. That's exactly what Jannik hoped for. He summoned all the confidence that hadn't left him yet, the very one that made him wink at Olivia when he entered the venue.
“No. You're getting asked out on a date.” The man simply replied. “By Jannik. Just Jannik.”
Olivia's heart stopped at that moment and all she could hear was ringing in her ears.
Oh.
Oh.
Was this something she has fantasised about for the past two weeks? Yes. Did she want to go? Yes. Was she afraid? Absolutely. Because what if it went horribly? Before, there were no expectations towards the annual catch ups but the word date carries baggage. You want dates to be nice, possibly to have more than one date. How would this function later? Olivia and Jannik saw each other once a year, didn't even have each other's numbers so what if the date did go well? Was she supposed to carry on like nothing happened? Pretend like she doesn't want to talk to him every day? Be there when Jannik wins or loses? Having this dream of him in Olivia's head was easy. Either Olivia would magically fly to wherever Jannik was or vice versa. All these thoughts clamoured in her head when Jannik's smooth voice pulled her back to reality.
“Hey, is everything alright?” He asked. Olivia could see the concern and now also self-consciousness in his eyes. “I'm- I'm sorry if I was too forward. I understand if you don't want to go.”
“No! No, I do want to go. I just-” The woman looked for the right words. How could she explain what was happening in her head? “I'm- I'm scared.”
“Scared? Of what?” Jannik could only hope Olivia wouldn't notice how sweaty his hands had gotten. He could keep calm in the most stressful of matches but was now being defeated by asking a girl on a date.
“Because what if it goes well? The next date's in a year?” Olivia explained and it made Jannik exhale with relief. So this is what it was all about. A smile grew on his face which in turn confused Olivia.
“First of all,” he started,” I'm in London till the end of the week and if the date goes well, which I really hope for, I'd like to spend as much time with you as possible. Second of all, if we both want more than that after, then I'm sure we can find a way to make it work.”
“But then what if it goes horribly? I don't want to lose you just as a friend.” Olivia asked, all worry and nerves. Jannik seriously thought the hardest part would be to just ask the question.
“And what if we both have a great time? Even if, you could never lose me. I'd still come back here in a year hopefully and agree to do TikToks for you and only you. Happily.” Jannik chuckled.
“Don't lie, you never want to do my TikToks.” Olivia laughed. Ease slowly crept up her spine. Maybe Jannik was right. Maybe they would enjoy their date, spend more time together and make whatever this would become work.
“But I can start!” The Italian laughed, also feeling more relaxed now. He felt like Olivia's shell was slowly cracking. “So what do you say? Tomorrow at 10? I'll pick you up?” God, if you're there, please, please please…
A small smile appeared on Olivia's face and Jannik thought he could fall to his knees and beg if need be. A chance. Just one chance. That's all he wanted. “Okay.” She replied. “It's a date.” Jannik did not know what felt better, winning Wimbledon earlier that day or hearing those three words.
“It's a date.” He repeated and before his brain caught up with his tongue said: “Can I kiss you?’
Olivia blushed a furious shade of red at the question, a shade probably unseen since her days at school. Her heart fluttered and the butterflies in her stomach exploded. This was far more than any of the fantasies the woman came up with. “You can.”
It took Jannik a moment to register her words but when they hit him, he decided to not waste any more time. The kiss was better than whatever he had imagined. Olivia's lips were soft and tasted faintly of wine and strawberries. If Jannik was the happiest man alive already, then now there was no emotion strong enough to describe how he was feeling. Ecstatic? Elated? There was no point in exhausting his dictionary, such word simply did not exist.
Olivia's mind was pure fireworks. The trace of champagne on Jannik's lips, the smell of his cologne. He filled all of her senses and her body just buzzed in tune, all of the worries Olivia just expressed forgotten. The kiss was stronger than any alcohol she knew. Jannik better find a way for this to work because Olivia didn't want to go on with her life without his kisses.
When the two ran out of air and finally put some space between each other, they couldn't help but smile. “It's a date.” Olivia said.
Yeah, it was finally a date.