Rose nodded. “Dani’s history does not make her unqualified to coach you. Her current physical health does not create a risk to you.”
I addressed Dani. “Will you tell me enough to understand the effect?”
“Yes,” she answered before she could soften it. “Before the relationship-quiz week. Sooner if it affects one of your sessions. I am not promising every private medical detail.”
The timeline was longer than I preferred and shorter than indefinite.
“Then we separate two categories,” I said. “I was entitled to accurate information when you were my coach, and I am entitled to facts that affect the arrangement now. I am not entitled to every personal detail of your life.”
Dani’s shoulders lowered half an inch.
“But privacy cannot be used to create a false professional impression.”
“I understand.”
“If I ask a direct professional question, answer the professional part directly. You may identify the rest as private.”
“I will.”
Tessa looked at Rose. “This is much more emotionally competent than the fake-dating agreement led me to expect.”
Rose picked up a cracker. “Give it time.”
I summarized the record once: zero finishes, two starts, one private medical event, one injured knee, no current injury, and no independent work with advanced marathoners.
“All right,” I said.
Dani blinked. “All right?”
“I asked for clarification. You clarified. I remain displeased that you avoided it.”
“If it happens again, I will end every remaining professional and training arrangement with you.”
The remaining humor left her face.
“I understand.”
“And if we proceed with the competition, the fake relationship does not alter those expectations.”
“It won’t.”
I turned to Rose.
“Do you believe the arrangement creates a medical conflict?”
“I believe it creates several nonmedical conflicts,” she said. “Miguel already controls programming and formal assessments. I can handle physical-therapy concerns. Anything requiring diagnosis, general medical clearance, or mental-health treatment belongs to the appropriate clinician. The important point is that no one creates an informal exception because Dani knows your history.”
“It will not become real,” I said.
Tessa reached for a cookie. Rose ate the rest of her cracker. Dani looked at the agreement. No one supported my statement.
“This meeting is poorly managed,” I said.
Tessa smiled. “I think it’s going beautifully.”
The agreement ran four pages. Dani had insisted on reducing it from seven because seven implied a corporate merger. I read the controlling terms once: equal prize division; training and medical authority unchanged; no informal coaching exceptions;advance consent for public affection; no interference in private dating; no shared bed; no genuine romantic feelings.
Tessa lifted her hand. “Define kissing emergency.”
