Fighting for the Edge (6 page)

But the rest didn’t last long. We knocked out the side-by-side spins with decent unison and then sailed toward our jump combination. With identical movement, we picked into the ice for the triple toe loop. Up, down, and then up again we jumped into the easy double toe to complete the combination.

I smiled at Chris, and we quickly transitioned into the lasso lift. He swung me up over his head, and as I stretched my core muscles to stay upright, my sore ribs pulsed in response. I kept smiling, not letting the pain distract me.
Only one minute left!

Adrenaline took over again and carried me through our remaining elements. In the final seconds, we completed the death spiral and the crowd began to applaud, sensing the end. Their ovation drowned out the quiet piano. Chris slowly dipped me backward as if we were dancing, and we held the pose as the music faded away.

Everyone in the stands leapt to their feet, showering us with applause and gifts. I threw my arms around Chris’s neck, and he hugged me so tightly my feet came off the ice.

“History, baby!” he cried.

I laughed and kissed his cheek. We separated to bow to the fans but then hugged each other again as we skated in Sergei’s direction. He was clapping and beaming at us, and I couldn’t wait to jump into his arms.

Sergei embraced me before I could step through the ice door. He placed one hand on the small of my back and the other over my curly up-do. I pressed my face to his neck, staining his white collar with my deep red lipstick.

“Best quad you’ve ever done,” he said close to my ear. “You were amazing.”

I pulled my head back to see his smiling face. His lips were so tantalizingly close, and I was so hyped up with excitement that it physically hurt not to kiss him. We’d agreed no PDA beyond hugs when we were in our coach and student roles, so I restrained myself and took a step backward.

Sergei and Chris hugged and then joined me in the colorful kiss and cry, decorated with both real flowers and large floral images on the backdrop. On the monitor, our quad throw kept repeating in slow motion from multiple angles. I peered at the small screen, watching my blade hit the ice over and over.

“They’re taking a long time for the score,” I said with a worried glance at Sergei. “Do you think they’re checking if I got the full rotation?”

“You got it.” Chris pointed at the video. “I can see it right there.”

I fidgeted with the cross pendant on my silver chain. The judges had been very strict lately about devaluing under-rotated jumps, and they were probably being extra observant since this jump would go into the record books.

Chris put his arm around me, and we stared at the monitor, willing the marks to show. Every second that passed made me twitch more with anxiety.

A brief announcement in Japanese lifted my head. Then we heard in English, “The score please for Emily Butler and Christopher Grayden.”

I clutched Sergei’s forearm and he covered my hand with his. The announcer continued, “The technical score is seventy-one point two four. The program component score is sixty-three point three two. The total segment score for the free skate is one hundred and thirty-four point five six.”

I let out a tiny squeak. Our number was higher than Maddy and Damien’s! We’d gotten credit for the quad!

The total score with the short program was read, and the announcer belted, “They are in first place!”

Chris smothered me against his chest, and we rocked back and forth with giddiness. Standing to acknowledge the crowd, we turned in circles and waved to all corners of the arena. Sergei embraced each of us again and stood with his arms across our shoulders.

“This was a great skate,” he said. “It’s exactly where you should be at this point in the season.”

Chris nodded. “We can get even better from here. Onward and upward to nationals.”

“But not before we celebrate!” I said.

Sergei grinned. “Yes, you definitely deserve to enjoy this.”

We moved backstage, where the Chinese team and our fellow American pair Candice and Shawn congratulated us with hugs. Maddy and Damien were in the mixed zone, and we didn’t come face-to-face with them until later when they entered the media room for the press conference.

They sat in the two folding chairs beside me on the podium, and Maddy didn’t utter a word. She’d untied her hair knot, and her long brown hair swept over one shoulder. Her red fleece jacket was zipped all the way up to her chin.

Damien pushed his chair further back from the long table and stretched out his legs. He turned his head slightly in my direction.

“Nice quad,” he said nonchalantly, as if we’d done one of the easiest elements in the sport.

Maddy sat just inches from him, so I knew she’d heard him speak, but she continued to look anywhere but at Chris at me.

“Thanks,” I said.

The bronze medalists, the Chinese pair, took the two spots to our left, and a writer from IceNet called out the first question, the usual one asking how we all felt about our performances. Chris answered for us and then slid the microphone across the table to Damien and Maddy. Damien brought it toward his mouth and cleared his throat.

“We’re really happy with our skate tonight. We focus on performing a complete program, giving attention to every detail and not just one element. It’s about more than the jumps.”

I fixed my eyes on the table and bit my lip, fighting to keep the annoyance from showing on my face. Damien’s comment was an obvious jab at us, though not an accurate one. Our program wasn’t just about the quad. Sergei and I had poured our whole hearts into the choreography, and we’d made the steps and transitions more intricate than ever.

While Damien rambled, I snuck a peek at the protocols lying on the table. The scores had the potential to be so close that our Olympic dream could come down to a hundredth of a point. Losing gold by one vote in 2002 had been devastating. I couldn’t imagine the pain of losing again… and by a decimal.

I really needed to stop thinking about those things.

Chapter Five

I weaved through the crowded hotel lobby and looked for Chris. Aubrey and Nick were on their way downstairs so we could head to the nightclub across the street and start our celebration. I’d left Sergei in the restaurant schmoozing with the Swiss and Italian judges. The social games we had to play were sadly as important as the performances we gave on the ice.

Chris waved from near the front entrance, and I strode past a few gawking fans gathered on the matching blue sofas. They’d secured all their desired photos and autographs and were now just people-watching.

“The bellman said it’s 80’s night at the club,” Chris said. “This has the potential to be epic.”

I laughed and looked down at my bright red blouse and black jeans. “Should I have worn my leg warmers? Caked on some blue eye shadow?”

“Is Sergei coming or is he stuck with the old folks?”

“He said he’ll meet us there… hopefully not three hours from now.”

Chris shot his arm up, and I turned to see Aubrey and Nick approaching from the elevators. Aubrey’s black mini-dress and five-inch heels showed off her long, tanned legs, and Nick’s crisp button-down shirt and pants matched her outfit. They would easily win Most Fashionable Team if such an award existed.

Aubrey checked her phone and then dropped it into her tiny red purse. “Are we ready? Where’s Sergei?”

“He’s coming later,” I said.

Chris pushed open the double glass doors. “Let’s roll.”

The cold night air blasted over me, and I hugged my arms to my chest. My silky blouse didn’t offer much protection. We hustled across the busy street and hurried inside the club, handing over the necessary yen for the cover charge.

The techno beat of an Erasure song vibrated the room, and I blinked a few times to let my eyes adjust to the colorful spinning lights. Some of the patrons packed in around us had come dressed for the occasion.
Miami Vice
-inspired white jackets and pastel T-shirts and Madonna-like lace gloves and giant hair bows were the most popular get-ups.

I spotted a couple of vacant stools at the bar and quickly grabbed Aubrey’s hand. We hopped onto the tall seats, and within a few minutes the four of us held drinks, ready to toast.

Nick raised his glass of bourbon and Coke. “To another successful event for Team Cape Cod.”

An image of our destroyed rink popped into my head, and I looked down at my drink. We had a lot to do to get ready for the move to Boston. And we’d only have a few days to get settled at our new rink before Christmas and–

“Em,” Chris interrupted my thoughts, and I looked up. He, Aubrey, and Nick were waiting for me to raise my wine glass.

I joined them, and we tapped our drinks together. Aubrey was in the middle of her first sip when “P.Y.T.” blared through the speakers, and she immediately jumped from her stool.

“This is my favorite Michael Jackson song! Let’s go dance.”

Chris took a long drink of his beer and turned to me. “You coming, Em?”

“I think I’ll take it easy. My knee’s still pretty sore.”

“You want me to hang with you until Sergei gets here?”

“No, go ahead.” I waved him toward the dance floor. “I’ll enjoy my wine and start making my packing list for Boston.”

Chris followed Aubrey and Nick into the tight mass of dancing bodies, and I turned to face the bar. Sliding my phone out of my jeans pocket, I scrolled to the notepad application and began typing the items I needed to bring to Mom’s house. I didn’t lift my head until I heard a nasally voice next to me order a cosmopolitan. Maddy was positioned against the bar, watching the bartender and completely ignoring my existence. I didn’t want to make it any easier for her.

“How’s it going?” I chirped in a peppy tone over the music.

She slowly shifted her brown eyes and gave me a sideways glance. “Drinking alone?”

I took a sip of wine. “Sergei’s on his way.”

The bartender placed Maddy’s drink in front of her, and she gave the young man a dazzling smile. When she turned back to me, it was gone.

“I’ve always been curious,” she said. “How it works being married to your coach. Is he… demanding at home, too?”

The tone of her question made our relationship sound salacious. I took a longer sip and set my eyes firmly on hers.

“Rink and home are two separate places. There’s equal give and take between Sergei and me in our marriage.”

Her mouth curved into a little smile as she seemed to ponder my response. “I’d gladly take whatever he’s giving.”

I stared at her, unsure whether to laugh or toss my red wine in her face. “That’s my husband you’re talking about.”

“You should take it as a compliment.”

She picked up her drink and walked away, her waif-like frame taking her across the room to Damien and two other Canadian skaters.

Note to self – just let her ignore you from now on.

A hand slipped around my waist, and I jumped but then quickly smiled at the hint of familiar spicy cologne. I leaned back against Sergei’s starchy oxford shirt, and he angled his head down next to mine.

“What is such a breathtakingly beautiful woman doing alone in a bar?”

“You’ll have to take that up with my husband. He’s kept me waiting.”

He pressed his lips to my hair and kissed his way down to my ear. “He promises to make it up to you… all night long.”

A warm current of electricity streaked down my spine. I swiveled my stool to face Sergei. “This day just keeps getting better.”

“You were really special out there tonight. You should definitely enjoy this victory.”

“Oh, I’m enjoying it.” I grinned. “You know how much I love winning.”

He nudged one leg between my knees, bringing our bodies closer. I tilted my chin up, and he brushed a long curl away from my face.

“Winning is very sexy,” he said.

“Yes, it is.” I nodded slowly and fingered one of the buttons on his shirt. “You know what would be
really
sexy? Winning an Olympic gold medal.”

He chuckled. “It always comes back to the Olympics.”

“I know, I know. I shouldn’t obsess. But it’s getting so close that I can’t stop thinking about it. And lately I’ve been thinking about all the freak things that could happen in the next eight weeks.”

“Like what?” Sergei arched an eyebrow, seeming afraid to humor me.

“Like… I could step off a curb wrong and break my ankle. Just walking down the street and BAM! Olympics are over.”

“I could carry you everywhere,” he said with a smile.

“That sounds very appealing. Or I could get one of those motorized scooters old people use. A Hoveround!”

He rubbed both my shoulders and then cupped his hands under my chin. “Em, you can’t live in fear that something terrible is going to happen. You’ll drive yourself insane.”

“More insane than I already am?” I asked with a laugh.

“I want this dream to become reality for you. I want it even more than I did for myself. But whatever happens in Torino, it’s not going to define you. What will define you is how fearless you’ve been, how hard you’ve worked, how much you’ve inspired young skaters.”

There was so much love and sureness in his eyes. I reached up and caressed his stubbly cheek, and as I touched my mouth to his, I let my palm trail down his chest. His warmth always gave me such comfort, and being in his arms made me feel totally at peace. I might need to take up permanent residence there the next eight weeks.

“What would I do without you?” I murmured against his lips.

He kissed me tenderly. “You’ll never have to find out.”

I wound my arms around his neck, and he rested his forehead against mine. “You were right, though,” he said, breaking into a slow smile. “Winning an Olympic gold medal would be incredibly sexy.”

I laughed and kissed him again.

****

Aubrey downed the last drops of her wine and slid the glass onto a nearby table. She’d talked Nick and Chris into staying on the dance floor through a string of songs because she wasn’t going anywhere near the bar. She didn’t want her celebration tainted by Damien’s suggestive looks and comments.