Taylor Jenkins Reid delivers a character study disguised as a sports novel, following tennis champion Carrie Soto as she emerges from retirement to reclaim her Grand Slam record. At 37, Carrie faces not just younger, hungrier competitors, but also the public's perception of her as an ice-cold perfectionist who prioritized winning over likability.

Reid excels at crafting Carrie's voice—prickly, driven, and unapologetically ambitious in ways that feel refreshingly honest for a female protagonist. The tennis sequences crackle with tension, and Reid clearly did her homework on the sport's technical and psychological demands. The father-daughter relationship between Carrie and her coach Javier provides genuine emotional weight, exploring how parental expectations shape elite athletes.

Where the novel stumbles is in its predictable romantic subplot with fellow player Bowe Huntley, which feels obligatory rather than organic. The pacing also sags in the middle sections, bogged down by repetitive internal monologues about Carrie's reputation and self-doubt. Reid's trademark accessible prose makes complex tennis strategy digestible for casual fans, though sports enthusiasts might find some scenarios overly convenient.

The book works best when examining the costs of greatness—the isolation, the physical toll, the way society punishes women for the same ruthless ambition it celebrates in men. This is ideal for readers who enjoyed Reid's previous celebrity fiction, sports fans seeking character-driven narratives, and anyone interested in stories about second chances and redefining success later in life. Skip it if you prefer faster-paced plots, dislike sports settings entirely, or find driven, sometimes unlikable protagonists grating. While not Reid's strongest work, it offers a compelling meditation on legacy, aging, and what we sacrifice for excellence.