The truthful answer was too dangerous. I wanted you. I tried a safer version.
“You’re the best fit.”
“For a fake girlfriend?”
“For the challenge. You’re training for the marathon, available for the events, organized, and competitive.”
“I am not competitive.”
“You raced Carol.”
“She passed us, and her age was not apparent from behind.”
I smiled. Amy did not, but the corners of her mouth shifted.
“You also already know what I’m like,” I said.
“That is an argument against the plan.”
“You won’t be surprised.”
“I am surprised constantly.”
“In a good way?”
“No.”
“Sometimes?”
She held my gaze over the rim of her cup.Sometimes.She did not need to say it.
“What happens to the coaching relationship?” she asked.
I had prepared for that part because it was the part most likely to make the proposal indefensible.
“Miguel becomes your formal coach before we submit anything. Not after a kiss or after the arrangement feels real. Before the application.”
Amy’s fingers stopped against the coffee sleeve. “You would stop coaching me.”
“I would lose edit access and stop controlling mileage, pace, assessments, and return-to-run decisions. I could join only the runs Miguel designates. Rose handles physical-therapy concerns; everything else goes to the appropriate physician.”
“You would give up a paying client.”
“Blake can reassign the package hours. I lose control of the plan, not my job.”
Saying it cost more than I expected. Coaching Amy had become the best part of my week. That was another reason the transfer had to happen before either of us could pretend the conflict was theoretical.
“Blake would know?” she asked.
“That I am entering with a former client, that Miguel has full authority, and that the conflict form is documented. Blake would not know the relationship began as an arrangement unless disclosure became necessary.”
“So we would still be lying about eligibility.”
“Yes.”
“But not allowing the lie to govern my training.”
“Correct.”
