Home Ice (21 page)

Finally, the moment came. Crossover, crossover, toe pick, takeoff. It wasn’t high enough. That was clear the second her blades left the ice, and her heart dropped into her stomach. But when did that ever stop her before? The first two rotations were easy. Only a split second to decide on the third, and her competitive streak took the reins. She completed the jump, but the timing issue tweaked her landing, and she fell on her hip.

No pain, but that might come later. The rush of horror that hit would have left anyone else paralyzed, but her training wouldn’t allow that. She got to her feet and continued as if nothing had gone wrong. The audience
awwed
anyway, making it harder to maintain her focus. In her head, she was screaming, but no one could know that. The rest of the program went without a hitch, and when she finished with a dramatic flourish, the crowd went wild. Flowers and stuffed animals fell to the ice, and she skated over to pick up one bouquet, waving to her fans as she made her way off.

Now for the kiss and cry. God, did she want to cry. Val handed her a bottle of water, put his arm around her shoulders, and led her to the couch where they’d watch her scores. He kissed her cheek, but it was just for the cameras, and for once, she was grateful. If Val were capable of showing any real sympathy or emotion, she just might lose it herself, and that could
not
happen.

The announcer read the scores, and each one was like a barb in her heart, but she kept her humble smile in place. She finished with 120.97 for the free skate, 200.88 total. Her only hope was that her competition would mess up worse than she had, and wishing for that felt evil. She sat with her family for the rest of the event, watching the other girls complete their programs. Any errors were small and wouldn’t cost them many points. At the end of the night, she took third place in the free skate and third overall.

I should be happy
. She accepted her official bouquet and dipped her head to receive the bronze medal. It hung heavy around her neck, an albatross instead of an accomplishment. At the end of the ceremony, she skated off, feeling hollow. Her parents and sister gathered around by her dressing room with a lot of consoling words she didn’t hear, but she hugged them anyway.

“I’m okay. I promise. How about you guys go ahead to the restaurant? I’ll shower and change, and we’ll meet you there.”

“Well, okay, honey.” Her mother seemed reluctant, but her father put his arm around his wife and led the way toward the exit. Tori shot an empathetic look over her shoulder as she followed.

When they were alone, Dylan just stared at her with those soulful eyes that conveyed support, understanding, and his heartbreak for her. It pulled the loose string in her tightly woven facade, and she stepped into his arms and held on tight.

Tuesday, January 27th

What if he drops me?

Lori’s shaky whisper had echoed in his head for days. There’d been no need to mention her sponsor’s name. Dylan knew she didn’t mean Bradley. Not this time, anyway. Seeing her so broken after the competition had broken
him
. It meant so much that she’d let him into that vulnerable moment, let him see her walls come down. It had made him feel closer to her than ever, and he’d tried to give her what she’d needed. He’d held her and said all the right things, but deep down he hadn’t had any answers, and it’d killed him.

Dinner with her family had gone as well as possible. They’d been welcoming and kind, and he’d tried to fill the night with game stories, anecdotes of growing up in Canada, and what it was like when he and Lori met. She’d done her best to chime in and participate, but no one called her out on the shell shock. They must have seen it before. She’d performed the next night in the Smucker’s Skating Spectacular with the other skaters who placed throughout the week, and to the rest of the world, she’d looked as good as ever. She had a good game face. But he knew what the mask looked like and what real, happy Lori looked like, and there was no comparison.

That’s how he found himself outside Ron Byers’s office minus a plan but with the certainty that whatever he came up with would be seriously stupid.

“He’ll see you now.” Byers’s secretary glanced up briefly then returned to her typing.

Throughout his career, Dylan had stepped into a lot of important people’s offices, people who held his future in their hands, and it’d been nerve-wracking. But stepping into this office, knowing the man held
Lori’s
future, was way worse. Whether it was a good or bad thing, there was no time or room for indecision. “Hello again, sir.”

“Dylan, it’s good to see you. Harmony still talks about that dance.”

“I had a good time, too. How’s she doing?”

“Big into the books. Straight-A student, top of her class. Been trying to get her to go to a game with me up in the box seats, but she’s always studying for something. To what do I owe this visit?” Ron gestured for him to sit.

Dylan took the cue, leaned his elbows on the armrests, and folded his hands across his stomach. “Well, sir, you might know I’m dating Lorelai Kelly. As her sponsor, I’m sure you’ve kept an eye on the competitions and know she placed third over the weekend at Nationals.”

Ron rearranged some pens in the cup on his desk and nodded. He hadn’t sat down. It was a power play, and while not the kind Dylan was used to, it was easy enough to recognize.

“She expressed some concern to me that you might drop out as her sponsor.”

“Ah. Well, she’s an astute girl. Last year, she placed first and went into the Olympics as the one to beat. Her unfortunate injury prevented a medal, and it appears it’s still a problem for her, or perhaps she’s lost her edge. Either way, I’m in the business of backing winners, and if her career is taking a turn, it might be time for me to step out.”

Dylan ground his teeth together but tried to keep his face neutral. Going toe-to-toe with Ron would be worth five for fighting. It wouldn’t be worth a lawsuit, media circus, and blowback for Lori. What could he say to change the billionaire’s mind? Nothing. But … maybe he could make a deal. “What if I said I had a risk-free way to stay her sponsor that would cost you nothing?”

“I’d say you’re selling snake oil, son.”

“I would finance the sponsorship through you. No one knows. You still get to look like figure skating’s savior when Lori turns things around, and I know she will. She’s training harder than anyone. The mistake at Nationals was just that. The world championships are coming up, and when she wins there, your name is still attached, and you get some good press.”

Ron pressed his lips together, and his brows straightened into a line. He was quiet for a minute then cocked his head to the side. “That does sound like a good deal for me, but why wouldn’t you just sponsor her outright?” When Dylan didn’t answer, a light bulb went off in Ron’s eyes, and he nodded knowingly. “Little lady doesn’t like that idea, hmm?”

Little lady would kick his ass and never talk to him again. “You could say that.”

“I like you, and I see no downside for me, so I’ll go along with it. I admire your drive to step in and take care of the people who are important to you. They’re not always grateful, but they should be.”

Ron’s words almost made him reconsider. Wasn’t that exactly what she’d told Dylan never to do again during their fight after the school dance? He didn’t want Lori to be grateful or feel like she owed him. It wasn’t about that. And it wasn’t that he thought he could run her life better than she could. She was just so set on not letting him help, and if he didn’t do something, she could lose everything she’d worked for. Becoming her sponsor was definitely worse than finding her one, and keeping something this big a secret made him sick. But what else could he do?

“So we have a deal?”

“We have a deal.”

Dylan stood and shook hands and finally understood what Saralynn meant when she said she needed to take a couple of showers after talking to Ron on the phone. This time he’d have to do a better job keeping it secret. Lori’s career depended on it. Did signing on to a deal with the devil make him a demon, too? St. Cole could hang up his halo for a while. He was a Sinner, after all.

Saturday, March 28th

Close. So close, so close, so close. Lori paced her dressing room and managed with sheer force of will not to bite her nails. Two days ago, she nailed her short program and came in first. If she could pull out a win this morning, she’d take the title. That alone was like a triple shot of espresso. The real motivation was the $45,000 prize. By some miracle, Ron Byers hadn’t dropped her after Nationals. If she won the world championship, he’d keep her for sure. But even if he didn’t, she’d still have money to live and train through the rest of the year, and
that
was priceless. To not have to worry when the ice would be pulled out from under her. To have control over her own future.

A knock on the door made her jump. Val poked his head inside. “You’re up next. Time to go.”

One more glance in the mirror to check hair and makeup, and she followed him out. The arena in Shanghai seemed double the size of even the Coliseum in North Carolina. Looking at all the people made her lightheaded, so she focused on the rubber runner that circled the rink and let skaters walk around in their blades. All she needed was to fall before she even got to the ice.

A young girl from China finished up and curtsied to roaring applause. Val leaned over and spoke into Lori’s ear. “She fell twice.”

How evil was it that the news gave her a boost of hope? Lori lifted her chin and shut down every emotion except for determination. Show face in place, she skated out and waved to the cheering crowd as the announcer introduced her. As soon as the hush fell, she got into position and waited for the music cue.

Her heart jump-started at the first note even though she’d been expecting it. Like the crack of a pistol at a track event, it sprung her into motion. It was important to stay in the moment and not let memory take over. While it might be easier on her nerves, the audience and the judges could tell if you weren’t mentally present. Not only that, but you had to convey the emotion of the piece through your expression and posture.

Val had wanted to go for something with angst. At first, that had sounded difficult, but as it turned out, all she had to do was revel in her current mood. So much rode on this performance, the stress was almost enough to break her. If the crowd wanted to interpret that as the heartbreak of the song, all the better. Adding fuel to the emotional fire was Dylan’s palpable absence. He had three games lined up through the span of the competition and couldn’t make it. Yes, her family was front and center wearing T-shirts with her face on them, but that wasn’t as comforting as it should be. It wasn’t Dylan watching her with his warm, calm gaze, transmitting his strength through brain waves.

But she’d been a champion long before him, and she could be one without him. The first sequence of jumps was easy but still intimidating, and she let that show on her face. Hopefully it looked like anguish, because the mood of the song got even darker. It was hard to convey a broken heart as a single skater. The pairs people could play off each other. But she gave it her all, cowering with her fists to her chest as she spun.
Sad, I need to be sad.
Thoughts of the helplessness after her injury pushed forward and mixed with memories of Dylan’s betrayal from last fall, and suddenly real tears slipped down her cheeks. The power of the song added to it and built to a crescendo punctuated by her triple axel. With a perfect landing. The applause started before the song ended, and the crowd got to their feet as she did a sweeping bow, discreetly wiping her eyes with a smile glued in place.

She picked up a bouquet of white roses and a teddy bear in a figure skating costume before gliding off ice and into Val’s embrace. He patted her back then gripped her shoulders with pride and excitement in his eyes. “That’s my girl. You did it.” He hadn’t called her his girl since last year’s Olympics. It wasn’t a romantic endearment—more like he looked at her as a personal accomplishment, and in a way he deserved to. Without his coaching, she wouldn’t have gotten this far. Still, to only have that support when she was winning underlined again how different her sport was from Dylan’s. He had a team who was there for him no matter what.

They sat in the kiss and cry booth, which had magically filled with all the stuffed animals and flowers people had thrown to the ice for her. The commentators rattled on about how she’d gotten so into the performance that she brought tears to everyone’s eyes, even the judges. Good. The scores went up one by one, nearly perfect. Combined with Thursday’s, no one could top her. As soon as that sunk in, the elation was almost stronger than when she’d won her first gold medal. It flooded her whole body, and she covered her mouth with both hands to mute a scream.
I did it.
More tears now, happy, relieved ones.

Once the cameras returned to the ice for the next routine, she met her family by the concession stand and got lost in one giant hug. Her parents were on the outside, and Tori got smushed in the middle.

“We are
so
proud of you! You beat all those youngsters. Still the best.”

“Daaad.” Lori looked around, but no youngsters had heard that. They already thought she was ancient. No need to confirm it.

“Oh, you know what I mean. Come on. You won’t get your medal until tomorrow. Let’s get something to eat.”

Normally she stayed until the end no matter what to watch her competition, but the math didn’t lie. Even with perfect scores, no one could beat her, and the idea of getting away from the overwhelming energy of the arena sounded really appealing. “Okay. I’m gonna take Tori back with me while I change, and we’ll meet you back here in fifteen or twenty.”

Her mother looked about to protest and no doubt suggest they all stay together, but she looked between the girls and nodded.

Lori looped arms with her sister and led the way, tilting her head close. “Wanted a minute to ask you about Andrew.”