Page 41 of Shining Through

“I thought about it. But, no.”

Brett clapped his hand over his eyes and groaned. “Oh my God. This is so high school.”

Her spine stiffened, and her defenses rose. “Yeah, well high school and college are just two of the normal-people experiences I missed out on, so I’m a bit behind on things. And why aren’t you taking this seriously? You tried to warn me. Don’t you want to gloat for being right?”

“I don’t want to see you miserable. If this guy makes you happy, I’m willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. There’s nothing here,” he gestured at her phone, “that convinces me otherwise.

“But he’s a distraction I don’t need right now, and definitely not worth the trouble.”

“If you say so. I still think you should sit down and have an honest conversation with the guy, though kindly, after this weekend. Don’t forget, we have a lovey-dovey interview of our own coming up. How’s it going to look if the future Mrs. Brett Stafford is getting all slinky with Daniil Andreev?”

She thought of the times Brett stood up for her, how he’d always been kind and never judged. He deserved a romantic night with his dream guy, even if her romance had turned out to be nothing but a nightmare. “No one’s getting slinky, so you have nothing to worry about. I’ve got your back.”

Brett leaned over and kissed her cheek. “I appreciate it,” he said. “And so does Sergei.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

FRIDAY MORNING, HER MISSION WASclear; give a cute-on-steroids interview with Brett, support him in his skating and secret romance, and avoid any contact with Daniil. There was no need for an honest conversation because there was nothing to have an honest conversation about. He had his life; she had hers. They’d had fun, but it was time to move on.

The interview turned out to be a no-pressure love fest, with softball questions fielded by the same CBC reporter who’d interviewed Daniil and Yelena. Brett was adorable and flirtatious, Tabitha swatted his arm.

The reporter’s bright smile softened. “Now Tabitha, you’ll be retiring at the end of this season, while Brett plans to continue with his competitive career. Do you intend to return to your studies at Harvard, or attend school in LA, to be closer to Brett?”

Back to her pretend life. The memory of how good it had felt to be free of it threatened to crack her composure. She took a deep breath and squeezed Brett’s hand. “I have a lot of big decisions ahead. But I love Brett and that will never change. We have each other’s back, no matter what.”

The hurt lingered even through her afternoon yoga class. Posed in a downward dog, she seethed with frustration and jealousy. Tonight she had to watch Mia Lang be amazing on the ice. But Tabitha was tough. She’d weathered worse and come back strong. This was no different.

She arrived at the arena at 6:30 and was surrounded by fans that had seen the interview when it aired that afternoon. She posed for photos, signed autographs and headed to her seat, just as the ladies’ short program was about to begin.

The perky blond Canadian teenager making her International Series debut delighted the hometown crowd, and the judges, with a clean skate. Yelena Baryatinskaya turned in a strong skate to Adele’s “Skyfall” and Tabitha applauded grudgingly. Caitlyn Wayne, an American skater whose career had peaked when she skated in the Oslo Games, fell three times during her two-and-a-half minute program. Like Tabitha, Caitlyn had delayed retiring; hoping for a shot at Grenoble though it was clear her time had passed.

Exactly what Tabitha didn’t need to think about as Mia Lang took the ice.

Mia, the daughter of a former skater, had an innate grace that infused even the smallest movements. Her program music was youthful, but introspective. As good as she was artistically; her technical skills were just as impressive. Her program began with a triple axel and ended with a blazing fast spin that showed her amazing flexibility.

At the end, the crowd rose to its feet, as flowers and stuffed toys rained down on the ice. The judges awarded Mia the evening’s highest score, giving her a comfortable lead going into tomorrow’s free skate.

It wasn’t a surprise, but it wasn’t good news either.

Tabitha stayed in her seat during the break between the ladies’ and men’s competitions. Going out to the concourse and hearing fans gush over Mia would do nothing for her morale. She flipped through her program, spending too much time on the page with Daniil’s photo.

A group of women and girls in matching Maple Leaf Classic t-shirts made their way over. As Tabitha chatted with each fan and signed her program, the men’s competitors skated out for their warm-up.

Though Tabitha tried hard to keep her attention from drifting toward the ice, it was impossible. Daniil’s gray and black costume hugged his body like a second skin. In the first row, a noisy group of young women cheered and squealed every time he skated past. One of the Maple Leaf women frowned her disapproval. “Such a show-off.”

Tabitha nodded in bland agreement, and when the women left, she hid behind her own program, in case he happened to glance her way. But as she peeked over the top of the page, he didn’t seem to show off at all. He wasn’t smiling or acknowledging the applause. His focus was on the ice, his expression was dead serious.

Canadian champion Mitch Hastings was favored going in, but Brett’s Broadway-themed program to music from42nd Street, put him in first place...at least until Daniil took the ice.

Though she’d seen him practice his short program last week, tonight his skate to Beethoven’s “Moonlight Sonata” was more melancholy than before. Even as he executed a flawless quad toe/triple toe combination jump; the audience’s applause was subdued, as if they didn’t want to break the spell of this voyeur’s view at a tormented soul. Though he finished the night in first place, he seemed haunted and sad.

For the third night in a row, he haunted Tabitha’s dreams.

Bright and early Saturday morning, Brett called from the arena. “I forgot something.”

What else was new? She smiled at his endearing absent-mindedness. “What now?”

“My red bowtie. Could you bring it over here?”

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