The six hour flight from Boulder to New York was excruciating. The last time Sasha had been on a plane with his father had been more than fifteen years before, on their way to his mother's funeral. The pain of his mother's untimely death aside, this flight rivaled that in uncomfortable silence and tension. Something was obviously bothering Boris Beloff and Sasha was getting the brunt of his bad mood. He seemed to be fixated on Payson Keeler. As she boarded the plane, he'd already been in his seat. She spared him a smile and a quick brush of her hand against his shoulder as she walked past, Austin hot on her heels as they sat together further back.
Boris waved his hands in dismissal. "I still do not believe you let her date, especially someone like Austin Tucker. He is…he is you, only with the brown hair, not the blond."
"Yeah, Dad, I know," Sasha said with a sigh. He rolled his eyes up to the sky and while he didn't believe in a higher power, he'd reconsider his faith if a lightning bolt would strike and put him out of his misery.
"I cannot believe you let them date," his father muttered under his breath, but knowing Sasha could hear him.
"Payson is not dating Austin Tucker. They are friends. I have spoken to them both about it," Sasha said, obviously omitting several key points of interest on the topic, the major one being that he knew Payson and Austin weren't together, simply because he was the man in Payson's life.
Boris scoffed, "When your World Champion comes back and is pregnant, I will tell you 'so I told you'."
"Dad, it's I told you so."
"That is what I said. I would have never let the men and the women train together. It is distraction they do not need. Not that it ever stopped you. We took away the female gymnasts and you took up with the older woman."
"I told you, things are done differently here. Trust me, it makes the victory that much sweeter because of it."
"What do you mean?" his father asked, and Sasha raised his eyebrows. It was rare his father asked his opinion on anything.
"I mean that those gymnasts from China, even the girls from Romania, their lives are practically stolen from them. Every second of their lives is regimented from the age of 5 or 6 until they win their Olympic medals. And God forbid they don't. These girls, here at the Rock and on the US National team, they're gymnasts, some of the best in the world, but they're other things too and when they win, it means the world to them and their country because it's an endorsement of this system and tangible evidence that the other doesn't work." Sasha looked out towards the river. "It's not even jingoistic; it's just the way it is."
Boris snorted, "I never thought my son would be so political." It's competitive gymnastics, you old buzzard, not nuclear arms or education reform.
"Yeah, I'm a regular Barack Obama," he said, with a snort that sounded eerily similar to the noise his father had just made. Shit, I'm starting to sound like the old bugger.
"Yes, you are much like the President," his father said, sarcasm not suiting the usually blunt man. "I would insist to Payson that she must not see this boy. It will interfere with her training and she cannot afford distractions in the year leading up to the Olympic Games."
Sasha let out a strangled noise from his throat, the idea of Payson allowing anyone to insist she do something striking him funny. "Dad, Payson and I are on the same page. There is nothing to worry about. She is dedicated to her training, more so than any gymnast I have ever coached before."
His father's eyes burned into him, "I do not want you to make the mistake with her that I did with you. You are the perfect team, it is a rare thing and you should appreciate it. It will be over before you know it. It was that way for me."
Sasha looked at his father, suddenly infuriated with the old man, "You and I were not the perfect partnership, Dad. Nicolai and I were. I modeled my coaching style after him and that is the way I coach all my gymnasts." He unbuckled his seatbelt and stood, looking around the plane for an empty seat. Kim Keeler smiled at him and he smiled back, hiding the uncomfortable sinking of his stomach. "Mind if I sit here?" he asked quietly and she put out a hand over the seat in welcome.
"You and your Dad…" she trailed off.
"It's complicated," he said and sighed. "We haven't seen eye to eye on anything in a very long time."
She nodded, biting her lip, a gesture her daughter also made use of whenever she was holding back what she wanted to say. He raised his eyebrows, silently asking her to speak. "I heard him mention Payson's name."
Sasha nodded, "He thinks Payson is seeing Austin Tucker."
Kim raised her eyebrows and pursed her lips. "I'm not so sure they aren't." Sasha opened his mouth to protest, "I know, I know, the "no-dating" rule, but really Sasha, did you expect anything else? Payson's almost eighteen years old, it's completely normal for her to have a boyfriend. I've suspected they've been seeing each other for a while, though she continues to deny it and it's not interfering with her training at all. She's gotten more focused if that was possible, but she seems happier. I've never seen her smile so much, completely unprompted." Kim shook her head, "Sometimes I'll see her staring with a dreamy expression on her face and I'll ask her what she's thinking about, but she'll just shake her head and say, 'Nothing.' It's not nothing," she said, shaking her head.
Sasha had no idea how to respond. "I suppose as long as she's happy, that's all that matters." It was the only diplomatic answer he could contrive, but as the words escaped him, he knew that one day they'd be thrown back in his face. Once day he'd be talking to this same woman and she would recall this conversation, knowing he lied straight to her face. He motioned for the flight attendant, who came quickly. "Scotch," he said as she nodded, but as she walked away, he glanced back at Kim, he touched her arm to stop her, "make it a double."
Kim chatted away happily, proudly discussing not only her own daughter's prospects at the National competition they were headed towards, but those of the entire Rock team. Sasha listened quietly, agreeing with her assessment that it wouldn't be out of the question for the Rocky Mountain Gymnastics Women's team to sweep the medals in the All-Around, Kelly Parker, Andrew Conway and Kristen Henniford notwithstanding. The men had been playing one and two for the last two years, but Carter Anderson had begun to hit his stride at the age of twenty, and would be a serious contender for the bronze. All in all, they're chances on the podium looked great; it was everywhere else that concerned Sasha.
The scotch had worked to calm his nerves. The pleasant hum in his ears and warmth in his stomach served to block out most of his swirling emotions, something he hadn't had a problem with for years, a problem that hadn't resurfaced until Payson Keeler had completely stolen his heart.
They landed at Teterboro, word having got out they chartered a flight, there were paparazzi, but being New York in the Summer, where they generally concentrated on the Yankees and whoever was playing the Red Sox, the attention wasn't nearly as bad as it had been in other cities.
Sasha retrieved his carryon from the overhead compartment. He caught Payson's eye, a few seats behind him and they shared a quick smile at the last time they had both taken only carryon luggage in London. It had been a great excuse to get away from Ellen Beals and to steal some time alone. No quick getaway today, Beloff. Too many people and plus, this time you've got a roommate. The only positive thing about working with Ellen Beals is that the NGO had to spring for separate accommodations. With a father and son coaching team they had no problem forcing Boris and Sasha to share. Sasha had briefly entertained the idea of simply booking his own room; there was even a reservation in his name, just in case it became unbearable.
They arrived at the hotel, which was mobbed with gymnastics fans and press. They pushed through the crowd with the help of hotel security and Sasha spotted MJ standing in the center of the lobby, a satisfied smile on her face. "I thought I recognized your handiwork," Sasha said as he approached her. "Chaos and a media frenzy."
MJ smirked at him. I know that look. She's going to come on strong. "I'll take that as a compliment, Sasha. How was the flight?" she asked, stepping close to brush her lips against his cheek.
He froze, allowing the contact, but sniffed and smirked to himself. No matter where they had been in their relationship, from the beginning when it had been solely professional, to the height of their love affair and after she'd smashed his heart to pieces, she had always affected him physically. Always. It was a constant in Sasha's adult life. He shook his head, she still smelled lovely, her lips were still as soft, her body was amazing, but his usual visceral reaction did not occur.
"Long flight," he replied. "Think I'll rest up a bit before dinner." Her eyebrows raised and her lips curled up into a soft smile.
"Would you like some company?" she murmured. Sasha looked up from her brown eyes and caught sight of Payson at the reception desk, checking in. She titled her head at him curiously.
"No," he said, pulling his eyes away from Payson and focusing back down upon the woman he once considered the love of his life. "No," he reaffirmed.
She shrugged, "Well, if you change your mind, I'm in 348," she said, slipping something into his front pocket. He assumed it was her hotel room key. He stopped her hand and shook his head before side stepping her and moving away.
He saw his father wandering towards the desk, but that wasn't a good idea. Profanity in both Romanian and English was likely to ensue if he tried to check into their hotel room. "Dad," he called out. "Dad, I'll check us in. Just have a seat."
He stood behind Austin in line. "What was that about?" Tucker asked, not pulling any punches. The kid's protective instinct stretched a mile wide when it came to Payson.
"Nothing," Sasha responded. "Mind your business." Austin rolled his eyes, "Unless you're interested?" he suggested with a wink, followed up with a quick eye roll. "MJ's taste runs young."
Austin turned and looked at MJ appraisingly. "Huh, maybe."
Sasha gaped at the younger man, "Austin, I was kidding."
Austin shrugged. "I wasn't."
Sasha patted him on the shoulder and promptly cut him in line, as Austin still hadn't taken his eyes away from the leggy agent that represented him. Good luck, you're going to need it.
Payson watched the two men in her life from a few feet away and was very confused by what she saw. The rest of the team and those traveling with them had fled the lobby almost immediately upon checking in for their rooms or whatever hotspot they wanted to hit in the city on their "day off" so to speak, so she didn't hesitate to sidle up to Sasha as he checked in.
"What was that about?" she asked, nodding towards Austin, who'd begun walking towards MJ, currently speaking very sharply at someone on her cell phone.
"Austin needs a distraction and…" he trailed off, not having a ready excuse prepared for something he hadn't actually considered a possibility.
Payson laughed lightly, "And you need her off your back so I don't think there's anything going on when there's clearly not," she whispered, as they moved away from the desk towards the elevators.
"I can't imagine where you got that idea from," he said, his blue eyes twinkling at her, as they both got lost for a moment.
"Sasha!" a gruff voice called from behind them. Payson smiled as Sasha's shoulders tensed.
"Did you forget about him?" she asked.
He shook his head, "For about five blissful minutes. Remind me, sometime this weekend, I want to show you my flat. New York is a great city too, a lot like London, only less rain. And I hear that several of the world's best universities reside here, along with being the self-proclaimed center of the universe."
Payson smiled at him, brushing her hand against his briefly before stepping away to call for an elevator. Everyone once in a while they would do this, elude generally to the not so distant future, nothing firm or specific, just the idea that they were making decisions together.
"How do you feel, Payson?" his father's voice was suddenly just over her shoulder. She nearly leapt out of her skin. Her mind had drifted towards the future, but his voice yanked her fully back into the present time.
She turned with a smile. "Fine. I think I'm going to relax before dinner tonight. I want to be rested for tomorrow, hopefully establish a lead in the All-Around competition on Day 1." She couldn't help it. Every once in a while, the gymnastics robot in her would bubble to the surface.
"That's a good girl," he said, patting her gently on the back of the head. Payson smiled up at him. Boris Beloff was a tough as nails coach, but early on he'd seemed to realize that she didn't need him to be that for her. Sasha was her coach and she neither desired nor needed any other influences. Boris seemed to sense that and respected it. He simply encouraged and observed, although sometimes she caught him about to say something, before glancing at his son and stopping. He'd allow Sasha to coach her and pat her hair like a father would his daughter.
They all got into the elevator and as the doors closed, they observed Austin and MJ walking towards the hotel bar, Austin's hand at the small of her back. Payson bit her lip and looked up at Sasha. He frowned in concern and she shrugged. There was nothing either of them could do.
Boris saw the exchange and obviously misinterpreted it. He sighed and patted Payson on the shoulder, "Do not worry, Payson. Boys like Austin Tucker, they are not worthy of you. You are a champion and that is more important than any boy."
She smiled at him, "Austin and I are not dating. He's free to see whoever he wants," she said, stepping off the elevator. They followed her and found their rooms were only a few doors away. "See you at dinner," she said and opened her hotel room door before catching a view that made her shut again, though slowly and quietly.
"Payson?" Sasha asked, his father having already entered the room. "Everything alright?"
And here it was, the moment when their actual relationship would conflict with his position as her coach. The only thing that shocked her was that it had taken almost a year for it to happen. "Everything's fine," she lied through her teeth. She was a terrible liar and he saw right through her. "Really, Sasha, everything's fine." She closed her eyes and there were Emily and Damon again, in the middle of the room kissing like their next breath depended upon it. Damn it, Em, you could have at least warned me. She pulled her cell phone from her pocket and sure enough, a text from Emily. Damon in NYC. Give me the room 4 1 hr? Plz! Thnx. Love you! "Shit," she muttered to herself.
"Payson?" Sasha called again and she looked up at him and sighed.
"It's fine. I just can't tell you. As team captain I'm asking my coach to trust me when I say everything is fine."
He nodded, "Okay."
She let out a breath. "Okay."
"Are you going in?"
"Nope."
"Why not?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest, obviously tiring of the game.
"Just can't," she said. "The hallway is good for now." He rolled his eyes at her and she shrugged, obviously not very good at playing dumb.
Sasha sighed, giving up. She was annoyed at herself as she regretted not telling him, but wished she could. "Hang on a second. Let me run downstairs. I booked an extra room in case I couldn't stand Boris for more than a night. You can relax there and not disturb whatever nothing is going on in your room." He shook his head and moved past her, but she reached out for his hand.
"Do you trust me?" she asked, giving his hand a squeeze of reassurance. He stopped midstride, their bodies nearly brushing and looked down at their joined hands.
"Yes," he said without hesitation, his breath brushing her forehead lightly.
"Then don't worry about what's behind that door, okay?" She leaned into him a little, savoring the closeness she hadn't felt all day.
Sasha swallowed and nodded once, "Okay," he said, before releasing her hand and continuing down the hallway.
Payson sighed and sat down on the carpeted floor, digging through her bag for her iPod, intending to listen to some music while she waited for Sasha. She leaned against the wall and closed her eyes and thus didn't see something that would have made her heart stop: Boris Beloff, standing in the doorway of his hotel room, arms crossed over his chest, studying her intently.