Page 47 of Shining Through

To make them look like duck-face idiots? Inside, the Ice Queen sniffed with disdain. “Clowning around,” Tabitha clarified.

She and Mia clowned quickly, bonded in their mutual wish to get this over with. That the cell phone company wanted to feature them in their ads was a reason to be optimistic. It meant they predicted that Tabitha and Mia would be two of the three American ladies to skate in the Games.

Another assistant came to collect Tabitha for the drive into downtown Grenoble where she’d meet up with Brett and the ice dancers.

They drove to the bottom of the hill. From here, Tabitha had a view of the Grenoble torch rising above the town. Daniil wanted them to take a picture in front of it as they had in Vancouver. She hoped they would have the chance, but there were no guarantees.

As the young assistant chatted about the Grenoble bar scene, Tabitha’s phone buzzed in her pocket. She’d spoken to Samara today and Fiona too. She doubted it was Peter. “Excuse me,” she said to the driver. “It’s probably Brett.”

“Oh no problem! You guys are flying to Paris for the weekend after this is over, right? That sounds so romantic!”

It was, but not in the way the girl thought.

She took the phone out and tapped open her screen. A black-and-white photo of Daniil popped up. He’d sent a selfie, too, but instead of a duck-face, he wore a vintage fedora and an unbuttoned white shirt that showed off his chest. Besides tattoos, he had a nice dusting of dark hair. Tabitha liked that. Yesterday, he’d sent a picture from the Eiffel Tower’s observation deck. The caption read “soon this will be us.”

She couldn’t wait.

At the quaint hotel downtown, Brett, the ice dancers and the photographers were all in the cozy little café off the lobby. Since Valentine’s Day fell in the middle of the Games, the official jewelry sponsor was running a campaign that featured athlete couples. An actress portraying a reporter was interviewing the ice dancers.

Tabitha came in and stood beside Brett, slipping her arm around him in a cozy, intimate gesture. He stiffened, then dipped his head and spoke in a stage whisper. “She just started to interview Mike and Jenny. We still have time to pretend we like each other.”

It had been like this since they’d arrived home from Vancouver, and Tabitha had told Brett that Daniil knew his secret.

She understood. Though Daniil seemed accepting and open-minded, the country as a whole wasn’t. Not only was Sergei living there, he was a rising star in a tough, macho sport. Though she’d never mentioned Sergei by name and, she trusted Daniil to be discreet, Brett didn’t know him the way she did.

Though Brett had agreed to go with her to Paris, it was only out of obligation for covering for him in Vancouver. A nagging fear that had been lurking in the corners of her thoughts slithered from the shadows. Had she betrayed a confidence and compromised her best friend, all for a relationship that had no future?

She offered a conciliatory smile as they watched the ice dancers’ interview.

“Does what happens in skating ever spill over into life off the ice?” the actress-reporter asked.

“Mike knows if he messes up during practice, I won’t be in a good mood at home,” Jenny said. “And if I’m not in a good mood…”

“Nobody’s in a good mood,” Mike added, laughing. “But like my dad always said, happy wife, happy life. And this woman makes me really happy.”

The couple capped the interview with a lengthy kiss that made Brett shift away. If the jewelry people hoped for the same from her and Brett, they would be disappointed. She slipped her hand into her pocket to touch the phone.

Then the director, a guy in dark-framed glasses and a bushy beard, summoned them. “We’d like you by the fireplace on the love seat.”

Tabitha scooted into the crook of Brett’s arm. Ordinarily, she didn’t mind being close to him, but this felt forced and uncomfortable. At the same time, they had a role to play.

The director smiled. “Closer, please. Nothing to be nervous about. We just want our athlete couples to share how they make love work in the midst of a busy training schedule.”

Brett smirked. “We’re figuring that out every single day.”

The comment struck a cynical note that seemed out of place in an upbeat fluff piece. Sensing the tension, the director shifted his gaze to the cameraman who was filming test shots, and made a slashing motion over his throat. Thank goodness.

“What Brett means is that it’s hard to think about much else besides training and competitions. Fortunately, we train at the same rink, so we’re still able to spend time together.”

“In Paris, we hear,” Jenny chimed in from the sidelines.

“We’re meeting friends,” Brett said.

She squeezed Brett’s hand. Time to play nice. As the camera filmed them, the reporter turned to Brett. “After being together all day, do you run out of things to talk about?”

“Never!” Brett’s tone was light and playful, but Tabitha sensed his uneasiness. “She’s my best friend, and I can tell her anything.” He paused and gave her a penetrating look. “She knows all my secrets.”

“And we have each other’s back, no matter what.”

---