Page 21 of Shining Through

“Don’t! Please! The last thing I need is for the world to see me stuffing my face with French toast.”

“Not the world, just Ruslan and your cousins who sent me this.” He held the phone up so she could see the message. “But okay, no pictures.”

“Thank you. And Samara’s my sister, not my cousin. Xtina is her friend.”

“Not yours?”

She shrugged. “I don’t have many. My life has never really lent itself. Too much else going on.”

“I know what that’s like.” Though he was content with a small circle of close friends like Ruslan and a handful of old schoolmates, Tabitha appeared less at peace with it. It made him a little sad. “It won’t always be that way. This season is your last, isn’t it?”

She nodded and set down her fork. as the last remnant of Hildegard gave way to Tabitha. “I think that’s why I’m feeling so much pressure. Four years ago, I choked at U.S. Nationals and came in seventh. When I didn’t make the team for Oslo, I decided to stay in skating for another cycle, to have a shot at Grenoble. But now? Who knows?”

“You shouldn’t take one bad skate so hard.”

“It’s not just today. Something feels different. Skating used to be the center of my existence. It still is, only now, I’m resenting it. I think of everything I’ve sacrificed. What everyone else has sacrificed. And I have to ask, was it worth it?”

“Your skating speaks for itself. It’s beautiful. Flawless.”

“Flawless, but lifeless. Not like Machiko’s. Not like yours. You’re dynamic, exciting. Your technique is perfect too, but there’s more to it. Your love for skating transforms your performance into art. When I watched you practice, all I could think was, ‘wow, I want some of that!”

Her choice of words made him grin, and sit back in his chair, so she could have a nice look. “Really? You want some of that?”

Her pretty cheeks flushed, and she glared. “I meant your passion for skating.”

He chuckled, letting her off the hook. “Tabitha, you have everything you need. Your body knows the moves. You just need to let your true self shine through.”

She sighed and propped her chin on her fist, gazing at the empty table next to theirs. “If only it were that easy.”

For her, it obviously wasn’t, and again, he wondered why. He also wondered how he could help her break free. He tapped his fingers on the table top as an idea took shape. She might turn him down, but he’d never know unless he put it out there. It was worth the risk. “What if you could get a little of that… passion in your skating? Would that interest you?”

“Sure. Why wouldn’t it?”

So far so good. He plunged ahead. “Well, like I said, I will be training with Misha in Vancouver to prepare for Maple Leaf Classic. What if you were to come too?”

She blinked and her lips parted. “And train with you?”

“And Misha.”

“Well… I…,” she said, and then shook her head. “No. Peter would never go for it.”

“Won’t he be busy helping Brett Stafford prepare for Maple Leaf?”

“Well, yes. But he can still coach us both. Though it would be good to have some extra time with Misha to work on Antigone,” she mused. “And if I was gone, Peter would have more time for Brett.”

“An excellent point. The men’s field for the Maple Leaf Classic promises to be extremely competitive.” He grinned and toasted himself with his coffee cup.

“You’re too modest.” She took another bite of her French toast, then pushed the plate away. She shook her head. “Nope. There’s no way I could go.”

“Why not?”

She rubbed her fingers together in the universal gesture for cash. “Russian skaters might get as much money as they want for training, but that’s not the way it works here. I have a budget, a sponsor I answer to. Olga Zelanskaya. I mentioned her at the party.”

Knowing his oligarch papa’s billions meant he didn’t have to take a ruble from the Federation of Sport, or anyone else, made him feel corrupt and ashamed. A skater as talented and hard-working as Tabitha shouldn’t have to worry about money. He waved away her concern. “The cost is taken care of.”

“By you?”

“Yes.” He could think of no better use for Nikolai Andreev’s ill-gotten fortune.

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