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"Elite coach, which is what she's telling me she needs," Dad said. "Are you elite?" I cringed at my dad's question. He wouldn't be elite, he would coach elite.
"I do have an elite program and team of elite girls. How old is she?"
"Fifteen."
"Hmm. She can't be just a level ten at fifteen, that's quite old for an elite. Is she training for college now?"
"To be honest, I'm not sure what she plans to do, or can do. I just know she wants to train at a topnotch gym."
That hurt my heart, like a knife to the chest. I'd just told him a few hours earlier what my plans for the future were.
"All right." He cleared his throat. "I have a dinner meeting I need to get to, can I give you a call in the morning and we can go over this?"
"Perfect, sounds like a plan. I look forward to hearing from you. While we're at it, we can also discuss your expansion idea on your new gym."
"Even better."
When Dad hung up the phone, I didn't feel any better. I frowned. It didn't sound like a sure thing once he heard my age. I almost wished he hadn't been on speakerphone.
"Don't worry, sweetheart. There isn't anything I can't make happen now."
