Edge of Glory Page 15

  He scratched his chin stubble as he considered the point. “It’s a pretty open trail from here down.”

  “And I’ll give her a wide berth,” Corey offered. “No cut-offs or bumps. We’ll play by your pansy ski rules.”

  “You’re going to pay for that one,” Elise said, but she didn’t feel any real affront, especially since Paolo wavered. “I have to start competing somewhere, and you don’t want it to be on the top of the mountain with the whole team around. Let me start small, with a friend.”

  “A friend?” Paolo asked with raised eyebrows.

  “Yeah, we’re friends,” she said with a shrug, then added, “I trust her.”

  “Trust her? She only made the offer to try to get inside your race suit.”

  Corey laughed. “Right, but other than that, I’m totally trustworthy.”

  Paolo laughed, too. “I actually believe you, but it’s more important to me that Elise wants to share this moment with you.”

  Her chest constricted again. Did she want to share an important moment with Corey? Did this constitute a milestone for her? For them? She didn’t have time to ponder the implications because Paolo finally said, “Okay, fine. Race her down.”

  Corey handed back her ski pole and quickly snapped into her board bindings before hopping energetically to her feet.

  “This trail all the way down,” Paolo said. “Corey, stay to the right and out of her way. Elise, no jumps.”

  They both nodded and pulled down their goggles as they edged right up to the next downhill dip, each angling for a better starting slot.

  “If you feel any tightness, you need to pull up. Injury invalidates the bet. Right, Corey?”

  “Of course.” Corey answered automatically without even needing to look at the warning in Paolo’s eyes. “Gentleman’s agreement, safety first.”

  Elise appreciated the gesture, but she wouldn’t pull up unless she had to, and they all knew it.

  “I’ll count down,” Paolo said. “And God help me, if you get hurt, I swear to the Virgin Mother and—”

  “Count, Paolo,” she shouted.

  “Three . . . Two . . . One.”

  They were off. Elise had the benefit of her poles to push off with while Corey had to rely solely on gravity to get going. She would’ve felt guilty for the initial advantage, but she wasn’t responsible for Corey’s inferior life choice to pursue boarding over skiing.

  She curled into her deep tuck, her calves and thighs accepting the position like second nature. She’d been here earlier in the week, but she hadn’t pushed any harder. She might not even have to push now, but with her short leash snapped, she begged her body to kick into a higher gear.

  Rounding the first wide turn, she stayed low and allowed her good leg to slide out on a sharp angle. She kept her ski pinned tightly to the snow and smiled as her injured knee gave no protest at being forced to bear the bulk of her weight.

  She straightened her line, drawing her knees and ankles close together once more. The terrain was far from challenging, mostly a wide open plain tilted to a moderate grade. She probably wouldn’t have felt as though she were racing at all if not for the scrape of a snowboard growing louder behind her. She curled lower over her knees, eyes focused straight ahead as she tried to milk every ounce of speed she could from the snow. The sun had long ago abandoned this side of the mountain to shadows, allowing the base layer of snow to firm up a bit, but not enough for her tastes.

  Evergreen trees flew by to her left as the trail narrowed slightly. Everything she passed blurred together in a whir of hunter and white, but a quick glance over her right shoulder revealed a flash of color as Corey whooshed into view. Within another hundred yards, she’d pulled almost neck and neck. She bent her knees deeply, her balance a thing to behold as her body angled slightly toward the nose of the board. She seemed effortless, like a bird gliding on the wind, with only minor movements of her toes or heels to rock the board left or right, but Elise knew wielding something so bulky at such a high speed took as much strength and coordination as it did grace.

  As they approached a small rise, Paolo’s warning rang through her ears. “Elise, no jumps.” Still her every muscle twitched, eager to take flight. It wouldn’t be a large leap. A little pump would send her a few inches into the air, and if she kept her skis perfectly level she’d barely feel her landing.

  If she kept her skis level.

  Still in her tuck, she had to make the decision too quickly to consider her options fully, and instinct took over. She crested the little rise and lifted her chest, slowing down the fraction needed to keep her skis firmly rooted to the snow.

  Corey had neither made the same promise, nor shared the same instinct for self-protection. She rocketed over the ridge and into the lead. She landed with a glorious cloud of fresh powder that even from a distance caught Elise’s face with a fine sprinkle. Payback for throwing snow on her earlier, no doubt. Were they not in a fight to the finish, Elise might have appreciated the gesture, but as it was, the only thing that mattered was eliminating Corey’s lead.

  Thankfully another large banked turn loomed ahead on the last major dip before the base lodge. This time she didn’t hesitate to sink fully into her tuck and drive a hard line into the turn. She slid her injured leg out wide and smooth across the snow. Her whole body leaned into a forth-five degree angle, and the g-forces grabbed hold, both pinning her down and slingshotting her forward. Corey’s board made a whooshing sound ahead, and Elise’s eyes narrowed like a laser zooming in on a target. She instantly imprinted her path on her mind; then as she cleared the turn, she drew her leg back. The muscles in her upper thigh and hip flexors gave a brief shout of protest, but she gritted her teeth and the knee held.

  She now had a clear sight line to the finish. She sank another inch into her tuck, newly tested knee tight to her chest, and imprinted her path on her mind’s eye before lowering her head. She kept her gaze too low and focused to see Corey’s face as she pulled ahead. This wasn’t about Corey anymore. She could relish in the victory over her once she’d secured it, but for the next three hundred yards, she had one goal, and one goal only: maintaining max speed.

  She didn’t break form, she didn’t smile, she didn’t even exhale until she came within yards of the ski center’s back deck and heard the hard-grinding scrape of Corey throwing her board sideways behind her.

  “You win. You win,” Corey shouted. “Slow down.”

  With a flick of her heels, she shot her skis into a hockey stop position and rode on a wave of her own making for several feet while metal fought to bite ground, but she had enough space. She had enough speed. She had enough control. She had enough to ride her edge from here on out.

  “Holy shit, you’re a crazy woman,” Corey called, slowing to a more tempered stop next to her.

  She merely smiled and tipped her goggles up onto her helmet. “Crazy is a relative term coming from you.”

  “I thought I had you off the jump,” Corey said, but showed no disappointment. She still wore her trademark grin, and her eyes danced with laughter.

  “Paolo’s no jumps rule put me at a disadvantage there,” she admitted, “but sheer competitive drive goes a long way.”

  “Hey, now.” Corey puffed up her chest. “Are you suggesting you’re more competitive than I am? Because I’d be happy to go again right now.”

  “We’ve given poor Paolo’s heart enough stress for one day,” Elise said, watching him take a more conservative line down behind them. “Besides, I only meant to imply I had more at stake going into the last turn than you did.”

  “Because of our bet?”

  “Right. The bet.” She’d all but forgotten about that, but it offered a convenient cover for the other insecurities chasing her down the mountain. “Sorry you had to end the day on a loss. See you tomorrow?”

  “You’re seriously going to walk away without telling me what’s under those super-sexy ski Spanx?”

  Elise smiled coyly. “I guess you’ll nev
er know.”

  “Never?” Corey frowned. “That seems a little rash. I mean there’s always tomorrow, or next Tuesday. I’m open then, or any other day before hell freezes over.”

  Elise laughed and bumped her shoulder before sauntering off. “Good night, Corey.”

  “Yeah, don’t rush to a decision,” Corey called after her. “You can sleep on it.”

  Elise shook her head as she walked into the lodge, but she did have to admit, never was an awfully long time to commit to.

  • • •

  “You win, Nate,” Tigger said, laying down her cards. “I only have a flush.”

  Everyone at the table groaned.

  “What?” Nikki asked innocently.

  Corey deferred to Nate. She wouldn’t have minded him fleecing the kid a time or two. Maybe when he did she’d learn not to be so gullible. Better to teach that lesson here than get schooled by the Russian team later in the year.

  “No,” Nate said with a heavy sigh. “A flush beats a straight.”

  “But yours has an ace in it,” Nikki said.

  “Doesn’t matter how high the straight goes, the flush always beats it.”

  “Even if the numbers aren’t in order?”

  “If it were in order, it would be a straight flush which beats almost anything.” Nate pulled a few cards from the deck and began to lay them out in various orders to illustrate his point.

  Corey couldn’t stand poker preschool anymore. “Anyone need a drink?”

  “Make mine a double,” Elise said, rattling the ice in her otherwise empty glass. Corey walked over to the filtered water pitcher and filled the glass to the brim.

  “Go ahead and make one for yourself, too,” Elise added. “On me.”

  “What about you guys?” Corey called to Paolo and Holly, who sat close to each other in armchairs across the living area of Elise’s suite. They were too engrossed in each other to even notice she’d addressed them. “Earth to the lovebirds.”

  Still nothing.

  Corey tried one more time, this time calling, “Mom, Holly Anne pulled my hair.”

  Holly startled up out of the chair, then looked around as if remembering where she was before rolling her eyes. “I hate it when you do that. You know I’ve got post-tattletale-traumatic-stress.”

  The others laughed.

  “Not from me,” Corey said. “I never dragged Mom into something when I could exact my own revenge.”

  “That’s why you were always my favorite sister,” Holly said, sitting back down. “The older two were such little snits.”

  “I’ll be sure to tell them you said so when we go home for Christmas.”

  “Then I’ll tell Meg you’re the one who dented the fender on her first BMW.”

  “Then I’ll tell Jane you slept with Charlie Matthews after she left for college.”

  “Ladies, ladies,” Paolo cut in.

  They both whirled on him, and Nate jumped up. “Dude, do not get in the middle of a LaCroix family catfight.”

  “This happens often?” Paolo asked, wide eyed.

  “Not as much as they used to, but they have hot tempers and long memories. You should see the shit fly when you get all four sisters in the same room.”

  “He’s exaggerating,” Corey explained to Elise and Tigger.

  Nate silently mouthed, “I’m not.”

  “For the love of all things holy, I wanted to offer everyone a drink,” Corey said exasperated.

  “Oh.” Holly smiled. “We’re good, thanks. We’ve got wine.”

  “From my father’s personal cellar,” Paolo said proudly. “Are you sure you don’t want some?”

  “What’s the drinking age in Argentina?” Nikki asked.

  “No,” everyone else said in unison.

  “I’m almost eighteen,” she protested.

  “You’re also trying to earn a spot on the United States snowboarding team,” Corey said, in a tone parental enough to make her skin twitch.

  “Alcohol isn’t a prohibited substance.”

  “Because it’s not performance enhancing,” Elise said seriously. “It’s the opposite. Alcohol is terrible for reaction times and muscle rehab. Plus it’s full of bad calories. Notice not even Corey is having any.”

  “Yeah,” Corey said. “Wait. ‘Not even Corey?’ What’s that supposed to mean? Am I the lowest bar in the room?”

  “Nope,” Nate said. “I am. I’ll have an Antares cream stout, and then it’s your deal.”

  She grabbed Nate a bottle of the local brew from the cooler.

  “At the Junior Worlds last year, the Russians were drinking every night.”

  “The Russians are crazy.” Corey shuffled the cards and dealt two to each person at the table. “Don’t hang out with them, and whatever you do, do not drink with them. It ends badly every time.”

  “Every time?” Elise asked over her hand. “How many times did you need to test it before you learned this particular lesson?”

  “Too many,” Nate said with a shake of his head.

  “Google Corey’s name plus Vodka rocket,” Holly suggested.

  “Don’t,” Corey said, as she discarded one card, then flipped three up in the middle of the table. “Just trust me. Don’t drink with the Russian team.”

  “Don’t drink at all while you’re training,” Elise added.

  “Okay,” Nikki nodded seriously, then seemingly apropos of nothing added, “I don’t have any brothers or sisters.”

  “Bet’s to you,” Corey said.

  “Oh.” She grabbed a few poker chips and tossed them in. Everyone else followed suit.

  “What about you, Elise?” Nikki asked. “Do you have siblings?”

  Elise shook her head. “Only child.”

  Corey watched her eyes, less for a hint at her hand than for any sign of emotion. Elise didn’t talk about her family. Everyone knew about the LaCroix sisters, and they’d all met Paolo’s parents at dinner a few times. And Nikki’s mom was okay enough other than rarely letting her out of sight for more than two hours outside of training sessions. It didn’t seem coincidental that after nearly three months of regular contact, she hadn’t heard a word about Elise’s family.

  She dealt one more card up. This time she didn’t have to remind Nikki to bet. She quickly tossed out the same amount she had on the last round. “I always wanted a sister, but I would’ve taken a brother, too. It’d be nice to have someone who was there all the time, you know.”

  “Be careful what you wish for,” Holly said. “There were plenty of times I would’ve given you one of mine.”

  “Meg,” Corey said. “You could still have Meg most holidays.”

  “See,” Nikki said, as Nate and Elise both made the requisite bets to stay in play. “You guys play off each other. You have history and inside jokes.”

  Corey placed her bet and flipped the last card to each player face up. “But Holly and I have a similar history with Nate. Blood lines don’t guarantee a meaningful connection the way friendship does.”

  “I guess.” Nikki frowned, then tossed out another bet. Unhappiness at the cards, or at the topic? Hell, would it even matter? The kid didn’t know a good hand from a bad one. You can’t read a player who can’t read their cards.

  “Are you having a hard time adjusting to the split schedule?” Nate asked.

  Everyone stopped and turned to Nikki, who blushed before saying, “No. I mean, maybe. I used to be more of a group kind of person. But now the coaches keep pulling me out to work on my own, and since my mom is here, I don’t bunk with the other youth racers.”

  “And you’re with us some days but not others,” Corey filled in, “which probably doesn’t make you popular with some of the more jealous girls.”

  “Probably makes you a target to beat, more than a teammate,” Elise added sympathetically.

  “I don’t mind,” Nikki said quickly. “I’d rather hang out with you guys anyway. You’re more fun.”

  “But we’re not with you all the time,”
Corey said, “and you’re seventeen, and you’re not fully in one camp or another.”

  “But you will be when we leave here,” Nate said resolutely. “You’re going to make the A team this season.”

  “Everyone says so, but—”

  “I’m not everyone,” Nate said. “I’m a professional coach and trainer. You’re going to be on the big stage this year, unless you start dogging it.”

  “I won’t.” She brightened a little. “Honest.”

  “You’ve got to keep working hard and stay healthy,” Corey added, a wave of responsibility washing over her. “But when we break camp, I think we’ll break together.”

  The kid beamed, her cheeks rosy like some little cherub on a Hallmark card, but it wasn’t her grin Corey focused on. She felt a little tug in her chest as she noticed Elise trying to hide a smile of her own behind her cards. What did that expression mean? The ice queen never gave anything away through her stone-cold poker face, so she couldn’t imagine she’d reacted to pocket aces.

  “I fold,” Elise said, confirming Corey’s suspicion something else had sparked her happiness.

  “Me, too,” Corey said. She didn’t have the focus or the inclination to keep playing.

  Nate doubled down, though, and Nikki called his bet.

  “Show ’em if you got ’em,” Nate said, grimacing as he likely realized his standard double entendre might not work as well with a seventeen-year-old across the table. “I mean, lay down your cards.”

  “Full house, twos and Jacks.”

  “Son of a bitch.” Nate threw his cards face down.

  “Did I win again?” Nikki asked hopefully.

  “The pot’s yours.”

  “All of it?”

  Everyone groaned.

  Holly and Paolo walked over to the table, and Holly laid one hand on Nate’s shoulder and the other one on Corey’s. “As much fun as it is to watch you two lose your shirts to the Tiger Beat here, we’re going to call it a night.”

  Nikki checked her Fitbit. “Oh man, I better go, too. My mom wants me in bed by ten o’clock on training nights.”

  “That’s adorable,” Holly said. “Think of all the championships you could’ve won if you’d gone to bed by ten every night, Core.”