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Edge of Glory Page 8
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Besides, these hallways wound around forever and were deliciously cool. Who could blame her for choosing an unconventional venue for her half-mile wind-down? Even Nate hadn’t argued. Maybe he shared her eagerness to get the hell out of the gym and into a cold shower. He also had a meeting with Holly. Something about sponsors for Team USA. She didn’t pay attention because she didn’t care about billboards or names painted on the side of table jumps. As long as no one tried to paint a McDonald’s logo on her board, she’d rather stay out of the conversation.
She appreciated the officials and race organizers and travel agents and fundraisers. Without them, she’d probably work 9-to-5 at the Lake Henry sporting goods store and teach snowboarding to local kids on the weekend. While she could do worse, she wouldn’t trade her current life for anything. Racing was all she’d ever wanted to do. As long as the people here didn’t interfere with her work on the slopes, she’d intrude on their domain only long enough to steal ten minutes worth of their air conditioning and carpeted hallways.
“Dammit, Don.” A familiar voice cut through the subdued sounds of keyboard typing and copy machines. “She’s going to be ready before the Olympics.”
“But will she be ready in time to qualify for the Olympics?”
“She’ll be qualified. She’ll be more better qualified than anyone to win you a gold.”
Paolo. No missing that accent. Corey slowed drastically.
“I’ll admit when I reviewed her initial X-rays, I thought she might be done for good,” the other voice—Don, apparently—said. “But I no longer doubt she’ll come back and compete eventually, but questions remain about when and at what level.”
“Will you fund her?”
“Of course,” Don said, and Corey let out a sigh of relief.
“She can start the season on the B Team,” Don continued.
“The B Team?” Paolo exploded again. “She’s an Olympian. She’s a world champion. She was number one in the world when she went down.”
“You don’t have to give me her résumé. I’ve known her since her first year in high school. I’ve always done right by her.”
“Have you, Don?” Paolo asked in a way that made the hair on Corey’s arms stand up.
“I’ve always treated her like a daughter. I’ve met her parents. I know how they get. I’ve always made the extra effort to let her know we cared about her. Hell, she even spent two Christmases with my family.”
“Did she get an invitation last Christmas?” Paolo asked pointedly. “Did you visit her in the hospital? Did you ever call to check on her rehab progress?”
“I got updates from the team doctors.”
“Did you ever once personally check on the woman you say you treated like a daughter?”
Her stomach churned as the silence stretched on. She knew the answer. She’d heard it in Elise’s voice when she mentioned all the people who didn’t believe in her anymore.
“Okay, Paolo,” Don finally continued, his voice tight and tired. “I know you want to make me the bad guy, but I’m running an Olympic team here. I have at least twenty other skiers who want a spot on this team, and every one of them has a story. Every one of them has potential to be a star.”
“She’s already a star,” Paolo said.
“She was a star, and I hope she will be again someday soon, but is it fair to ask everyone else to put their dreams on hold because she might make a highly unlikely comeback?” The question was clearly rhetorical because he didn’t wait for an answer. “I can’t bank my career and the career of everyone else on your word that she’ll be ready in time.”
“Will you consider her for a discretionary pick?”
Corey rubbed her face as she considered what a nightmare that would be. Discretionary picks were not democratic. They didn’t depend on hard-and-fast criteria like World Cup standings. They were made by a committee of suits and coaches in back rooms shrouded in what-ifs and might-bes. It wasn’t that she didn’t think they had their place, or Elise didn’t deserve one, but they never came without controversy. Could someone like Elise stand up to that kind of doubt? Or would it only compound the panic Corey had seen on her face in the cold bath?
“I’ll give her the same consideration I give every other athlete,” Don finally said. “But I have to caution you against trying to put too much emphasis on past performance. With her injury, she might never be who she was, and just because she’s on track now—”
“She’s ahead of the track,” Paolo cut in.
“I’m not going to argue that point, but I can’t hold up the future because of her past.”
Corey clenched her fists as tightly as her stomach had been clenched through this entire conversation. She could barely contain the protectiveness welling up inside of her now. She knew little about knee injuries but a lot about passion and competitive drive, and Elise had plenty to go around. If she’d already come so far so much faster than the doctors expected, it seemed stupid to bet against her finishing the job. She deserved every ounce of support and confidence Team USA could show her.
“Have you stopped to wonder if you might be pushing her right off the Olympic podium?” Paolo asked.
Don sighed heavily. “We’re going around in circles, and it’s time for both of us to get back to work. Unless you have any new information for me, I’ll see you in Argentina.”
Paolo stepped out of the doorway and Corey scrambled around the corner to keep from being caught eavesdropping, but he was too busy firing his final shots to see her. “She gave you everything she’s had since she was kid, Don. Maybe she won’t make the team, and if she doesn’t earn her spot, that’s on me and her, but if you don’t give her every fucking opportunity to do so, that’s on you.”
Corey raised her fist in silent solidarity as Paolo slammed the door behind him and thankfully stormed off in the other direction. She stood in the once-again quiet hallway with her back to the wall and her eyes toward the bright florescent lights. She took deep calming breaths as she tried to kill the desire to stomp into Don’s office and do a little yelling of her own. She had no points to add to Paolo’s and much less right to make them on Elise’s behalf. Hell, she barely knew the woman. And yet her urge to run to her rescue, to kick down the door, and to shake some sense into a man she’d also never met screamed so loudly inside her head she could barely think straight.
Did she really care about Elise? Did she even know her well enough to make that call? Hadn’t Don made a few good points himself? He’d at least asked some reasonable questions. Maybe that’s what bothered her most of all. Don had landed a few blows of his own. Snow sports were grueling and dangerous and competitive and taxing. If the mountains didn’t break you down, the next generation was bound to pass you on the turns. Where did loyalty belong in the equation?
She didn’t know the answer. She didn’t even like knowing the questions. She lifted her hand to massage a tight muscle where her neck met her shoulder and take inventory of her own body.
So much for cooling off. She flexed a slight cramp near her left ankle. Was it just her or did winding down take more time than it used to? No, she quickly banished that thought. She’d merely tensed up while eavesdropping on a heated conversation.
This is why she stayed out of the business end of the building. She didn’t want any part in any of these conversations. She didn’t like the questions asked here, and she definitely didn’t want to wonder if those questions needed to be asked about her.
• • •
“Corey and crew are gate-training this afternoon,” Paolo said casually, as she joined him outside the locker room.
“And?” She tried to sound neutral. She’d had a great massage, and she didn’t want to risk tensing up again after a trainer had worked so hard to undo the damage of her most recent increase in core workouts.
“I thought maybe, since we’re done for the day,” he glanced at his watch with contrived nonchalance, “and it’s not time for dinner yet, you might want to stop in
and say hi.”
“You thought I might want to say hi to Corey? Or you thought you might like to say hi to Holly.”
He grinned sheepishly. “We could do both at the same time.”
“I’m sure we could, but I think one of us wants to more than the other.”
“I think it’s easier for one of us to admit what we want.”
She shook her head. Why did Paolo always have to push things one step further than she was comfortable with? “I might have given in if not for that comment.”
“What? Why do you keep pretending like you hate her?”
“I never said I hated her,” Elise said, then grimaced when she remembered a few conversations where she might have purposely tried to convey the message without using those exact words.
“But you’re pretending you don’t like her.”
She flipped her hair over her shoulder and turned to face the plate glass window overlooking a gym filled with glorified toys and foam pits. “I’m not. We’ve made our peace.”
“She’s gotten you to try new things and push harder than your previous records, and we both know you push pretty hard on your own.”
“Let’s not overstate things. She pushed buttons. A few of them happened to be the right ones.”
“If anyone else pushed the same buttons, you would’ve shut down. If I climbed a weight machine and told you to jump, you would’ve threatened to fire me.”
She laughed lightly. “I might have actually fired you.”
“And yet you smiled at the memory of Corey doing the same thing. And it’s not the first time. She made you smile in yoga class yesterday, during boat pose, or whatever she called it.”
“The ‘honey-I’m-home’ pose,” Elise said with a smile. “I don’t deny she’s funny. But I can’t let the class clown cause me to lose focus.”
“You didn’t think she was such a joke when you were on the balance board today.”
“No.” Elise agreed quickly. “The exercise turned out to be a stellar addition to our regimen. And I didn’t mean to imply she wasn’t a serious athlete.”
“Didn’t you?”
“I honestly didn’t. Not anymore.” That night in the cold pool she’d seen reflections of the same doubts she faced flash across Corey’s eyes, and she’d hated being the one to spark them. Then again, she’d also seen her abs. No, nothing internal or external suggested Corey was anything less than a serious contender. She turned to face him again so he could see her sincerity. “I only used the term ‘clown’ to describe her sense of humor, which I’ll admit I’ve learned to appreciate.”
“But?”
“I’m tired, and I’m focused, and I’m busy. I’m five months away from being named to an Olympic contingent. I don’t have time to make new friends.”
He looked past her into the gym and frowned.
“What?”
“Hmm?” he asked.
“You looked away when I mentioned the Olympic team.”
“No.” He shook his head. “I got distracted.”
She briefly considered pressing him for more details, but a small part of her didn’t want to know where his mind had gone.
“There’s always time for friends,” he said, pulling the conversation back to more comfortable topics.
“That’s never been my experience.”
“Because you’ve never picked the right kind of friends.”
So much for comfortable topics. “You think Corey and company are different from the others?”
Paolo smiled and nodded over her shoulder. She turned to watch Corey ride a snowboard down a fiberglass ramp. Knees bent, eyes forward, feet strapped to her board, she executed a textbook start, but instead of sliding to a stop at the base of the ramp, she reached out, caught Nate by the scruff of his T-shirt, and dragged him into the foam pit with her. As she lay atop a pile of foam blocks, she threw back her head, and her shoulders shook with laughter Elise could feel even if she couldn’t hear.
“What do you think?” Paolo asked, bumping her shoulder with his own. “Does she seem like anyone you usually hang out with?”
She shook her head and sighed. “Fine, we can go say hello.”
Paolo slapped her on the back, his smile bright before he turned and speed-walked down the stairs into the gym. She followed him slightly less enthusiastically. He had a point about her track record with so-called friends. She had people she enjoyed talking to occasionally and people she compared notes with. She exchanged Christmas cards with a few women from school. For a while, before the accident, she had people she traveled with, people she often dined with, people she thought she could trust to help her out in a pinch. She hadn’t heard from any of those people in quite a while. Watching Holly pull Nate out of the foam pit before turning to offer a hand to Corey, Elise knew for certain these weren’t the same kind of people. Their circle would go unbroken no matter what favor or misfortune the fates heaped on them. She felt much less sure of whether or not she could ever fit in a circle of that nature.
And, even though she’d grown to appreciate Corey’s sense of humor, she didn’t share it. She wasn’t jovial or even-keeled. She didn’t relax easily. Playfulness didn’t come naturally to her. She’d always banked on her success to win her the connections she needed, but Corey had enough success on her own. What could a woman like Elise possibly offer them to garner their acceptance?
“Hey, Easy E,” Corey called. “How’d your workout go today?”
“Easy E?” she asked.
“Yeah,” Corey said with a grin. “Easy, ‘cause you must be going easy on your workouts since you’re already in your non-sweaty clothes at three o’clock.”
“Are you kidding me?” she sputtered.
“Yeah,” Corey laughed. “I’m joshing. I saw you in the gym at 7:45 this morning. Looked like you were having some fun.”
“Tons of fun,” Elise said seriously. “So I won’t expect to hear that nickname again.”
“Oh, the nickname sticks, E,” Corey said, obviously undeterred by her business face, “but from now on you should know the ‘easy’ part is because you’re easy on the eyes.”
Paolo laughed nervously. “See, a compliment? She’s nice. I can’t imagine why you didn’t want to come down here and talk to her.”
Everyone else laughed along with him. Everyone but her. She didn’t find the joke particularly funny. She didn’t find it unpleasant either. She’d been told her whole life she was beautiful, or rather that she’d be beautiful if only she’d smile more. She never knew how to respond to those comments. They always came with an expectation at best and a sense of entitlement at worst. Corey’s comment carried neither, just a simple, joyful statement of fact.
“Hey, whatcha doin’ Friday night?” Corey asked, bending down to unlatch her board.
“Studying video.”
Corey made the sound of a game show buzzer. “Oh, I’m sorry, wrong answer.”
“We’ve got the video room reserved from seven to nine. Friday night is definitely study night.”
“I’m going to have to check my calendar,” Corey pulled out her phone and tapped the screen a few times before turning it around to show Elise. “You’re mistaken. Says right here, Friday night is cheat night.”
She checked the screen, and sure enough Corey had marked cheat night in bright red letters for the space between eight p.m. and midnight. “Looks like we have conflicting schedules.”
“Looks like you should try to reserve the video room for Thursday night, then name your poison, and I’ll be sure to have it on hand on Friday.” Then looking over her shoulder, she said, “Malbec for you, Paolo?”
He eyed Elise hopefully, as though he were a small boy and Corey had just asked him if he wanted a puppy.
“Friday’s video night,” she said, with a little less force.
“We could get the room Thursday. I checked.”
“You already checked?” She planted a fist on each hip and tapped the toe of her sneaker against the
gym mat. “This isn’t a casual drop-in at all, is it?”
“Whoops,” Corey said. “Misplayed that one, dude.”
Holly and Nate apparently found something interesting on the ceiling and Corey backed away.
“Oh, I get it,” Elise said. “I’m being ambushed.”
“It’s for your own good, honey,” Paolo said. “You haven’t taken a day off since we got here. And we’ll be on the snow in two weeks. You won’t get one then.”
“I’m wrestling my body back into shape.”
“And you’re doing a marvelous job, if you ask me,” Corey cut in.
“But you can’t let your body think you’re going to run it right into an early grave,” Paolo said seriously. “Cheat days are used by a lot of programs to keep you from plateauing in your progress.”
“Sorry, Paolo,” she said. “I’m not buying what you’re selling. You want a night off to drink wine with Holly.”
“Well”—he turned to smile at Holly, who returned the expression—“can you blame me? She’s really pretty.”
Elise finally cracked a smile. “At least you’re being honest now.”
“So, points for honesty?” Corey asked hopefully.
Elise turned from one expectant face to another. She supposed a cheat day wouldn’t be the end of the world. And she could do her video work on Thursday. She wouldn’t lose the work time outright. Who was she trying to kid? She could logic all she wanted, but she’d only be justifying her real motive of wanting to see what it felt like to be part of a fun group for once. “All right. Friday is cheat night.”
They all cheered.
“Thanks,” Paolo whispered as he hugged her. “I owe you one.”
“Yeah, you do,” she said with a smile that made it clear they both knew that wasn’t at all the case. He’d been much more than a coach to her the last few years, and even now she suspected the deal he’d struck had been made on her behalf as much as his.
Chapter 6
Corey surveyed the rented room at the Lake Henry Inn. Dark wood floors and natural light combined for a soothing effect. Along one wall stood a fully stocked bar, and on the opposite was a long buffet table loaded with foods not traditionally served at the training centers. Overstuffed chairs and leather sofas scattered about and clustered together offered ample seating, and the music was upbeat enough to keep the mood lively without drowning out conversation. On the far side of the space, two sets of French doors led to a small balcony overlooking Lake Henry, and between them stood a large stone fireplace, which might get put to use after sunset for the sole purpose of roasting marshmallows. The setup wasn’t ostentatious. The room could probably hold thirty people at most, and Corey had no intention of maxing out its capacity tonight. She’d thrown her fair share of star-studded blowout bashes over the years, but these days she favored the casual company of a chosen few. This venue offered a little privacy, a little comfort, and a lot of ambiance.