Page 8 of Ice Dance

Fate probably hadn’t thrown a beer in my face, or had me pull Hasegawa to the floor. Dance with him? It was impossible, wasn’t it? Him and me? We’d kill each other. “You should probably ask him first . . . Last night . . . well . . . something happened.”

“Frankly, and let me be very clear, I do not care what happens off the ice. My expertise is turning two people into elite competition winners on the ice. Do you want that?”

“Yes,” I said breathlessly. “But will he meet me?”

“He’ll meet you. Be at the hotel conference room in thirty minutes.” She ended the call.

I stared at the wall and slowly lowered the phone. I was going to meet Hasegawa a second time, in the same hotel that we’d thrown down in last night. His coach had called me. It wasn’t a joke. She’d called me, out of every elite ice dancer at selection week. Would he dance with me for the Meridian? Probably not. The meeting might be over in minutes, but there was no way I’d miss it. If there was even a slim chance Hasegawa would dance with me, then, I’d be there.

I flung the sheet off, waited for my head to stop spinning, then went to hunt for clothes that didn’t smell like I’d spent a drunken night in multiple bars.

FIVE

REN

My phone’s incessant chirping stopped, then started up again. Whoever was calling was not going to give up. I reached for it on the bedside table, found my phone, and turned it face up. Dylan. And it was five a.m. I had a flight to catch. Why was she calling me so early?

“Hello?”

“Hear me out.”

I dropped my head back on the pillow, and closed my eyes. “I’m listening.”

“You can win this competition. Any category. I know it. And we’ve trained too hard to drop it on day one. And you’re still here. So we can make this work.”

Where was this going? “Agreed. But how? I need a partner. Do you have someone?” She must have, or she wouldn’t be calling. I sat up and tried to mentally push the sleep fog from my mind.

“Also, I think it’s time you tried something new,” she added, her voice sounding careful. “Your passion is gone. Don’t argue. We both know it. You’re tired. You’ve been through three partners, and with each one, you get more exhausted. It’s not you, well . . . not all of it. You are a unique talent, and that uniqueness needs its own energy. We’ve said it time and time again. We need to find you a match, someone who won’t break. Someone who can challenge you, bring out the best in you. I believe it or I wouldn’t be calling you right now.”

I was hearing a but in this praise. “Where are you going with this?”

“I want you to meet Camden Navarro in the conference center in half an hour.”

“Navarro?” I had to repeat it, because clearly she was desperate to even suggest such a thing.

“You saw him dance⁠—”

“I’m not dancing with a man, Dylan.” That was the least of the reasons why I couldn’t dance with him.

“Open your mind, will you? It’s the same as in training. Why should it be any different just because you’re in a competition.”

“Well, we are both dancing to win, for one. And I’ll not play second step to him.” I flung the sheet off and planted my bare feet on the thick rug by the bed.

“I’m just asking you to consider it, and to meet him.”

“I’m not meeting him either.” I stood and crossed the room for the bathroom. “Have you talked to him?” I flicked on the light and stared at my reflection in the mirror. I did look tired, but I had good reason to.

“Yes, I’ve already called him.”

“You called him before me?”

“Well, yes, because I knew you’d say no.”

“He agreed to meet?” I leaned a hip against the basin. “He didn’t tell you what happened last night?”

“He mentioned something . . . What did happen last night?”

If he hadn’t told her, I certainly wasn’t going to. “Nothing important.”