Kaylie could not enjoy her breakfast; she could barely stomach it as she sat across from Payson wondering if what Lauren said was true. It was a reaction that couldn't be faked, Lauren had been sick over it, absolutely convinced she knew what was going on.
"It was his cologne," she said, kneeling over the toilet bowl, heaving. "It was the same cologne from Payson's medicine cabinet." She coughed again, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "Payson is sleeping with Boris Beloff," she concluded. "Oh my God," she said, as Kaylie held her hair back again while she emptied whatever was left in her stomach. She sat back up and stood before going to the sink and filling up a glass of water.
Kaylie frowned, watching her swish the water around in her mouth before spitting it out again, "Lo, really? Boris? Let's be real for a second. The man is nearly seventy years old. And Payson? You really believe that Payson is sleeping with anyone, let alone the most disgusting option you could possibly imagine?"
"I know what I saw and I know that scent. It was the same, Kaylie, sandalwood and citrus, so distinct. What are the odds? C'mon, it's got to be him."
Kaylie wasn't convinced. She still wasn't convinced that Payson was having sex at all. This really wasn't her area of expertise, Lauren was so much better at reading people, but she overslept and was still in the room getting ready.
So she was studying her friend on her own, very carefully, watching for any out of the ordinary behavior. She just had no idea what she was looking for. She hadn't noticed anything was different to begin with, so what changes was she supposed to look for now? She supposed the usual things, staring off into space, eye contact, meaningful looks, excuses to spend time together, and physical contact. She shuddered. She didn't want to think about that, it was just too gross. She narrowed her eyes as Payson stood and looked around, finding Sasha at the entrance to the restaurant, she walked toward him. They spoke for a moment, both looking amused and Kaylie, determined to get to the bottom of this followed her. Isn't it weird, she's with his father and she stands there and just talks to him like there's nothing going on? This just does not add up, at all. It must be a mistake.
"Morning, Kaylie," Sasha said, greeting her with a smile, an unusual expression for him, especially on the day of competition.
"Morning," she said and then looked at Payson, who appeared to be containing her laughter. "What's so funny?"
Payson nodded towards the lobby just outside of the restaurant where Boris was arguing fiercely on the phone, his usual charming mix of Romanian and English probably confusing the hell out of whoever was on the other end of the line and making absolutely no progress at all. Kaylie grinned and suddenly knew she was right. There was absolutely no way Payson and Boris Beloff were anything other than a coach and a gymnast.
"Excuse me, girls, I should go handle it before he causes an international incident over his luggage." Sasha brushed past her and Kaylie smiled lightly, Sasha always smelled good, especially early in the morning. She certainly wasn't interested, but there was just something about a male who smelled nice that made her smile. Then suddenly it hit her. Citrus, and a hint of something else, not a common scent and she'd bet a small fortune it was sandalwood. Her eyes shifted towards Payson who was watching Sasha go, a soft expression on her face, not her friend's usual competition day stoicism.
It suddenly made all the sense in the world. Boris is rooming with Sasha, if his luggage got lost, he would have used Sasha's things, maybe even his cologne. Her eyes darted back and forth between her friend and their coach. He was older, but certainly not ancient. Payson didn't have the patience to deal with someone their own age. She looked across the lobby at Sasha and mulled over who he was, besides their coach: gorgeous, intelligent, intense and passionate, exactly the kind of man she would design for her friend if she'd been asked to do so. It all clicked into place. This she could see happening. Payson and Sasha had always been close and after Payson's final surgery, Kaylie actually resented their relationship. As she'd wallowed in self-pity, letting the anorexia control her, she'd watched her friend recover and blossom, literally and figuratively under Sasha's guidance.
How had it started? Kaylie had no idea, but it must have been going on for a while. She had no reason to doubt what Lauren saw, a toothbrush, cologne and a condom? It was no coincidence, but she couldn't imagine it was a recent development. Payson wasn't someone to jump into something headlong without fully considering it and though she didn't know Sasha as well as she did Payson, at least not on a personal level, he struck her as a think before you leap kind of guy.
Now that she'd figured it out, Kaylie realized how simple it was. Who else could it possibly have been? She laughed to herself a little, as it struck her how perfect they probably were for each other and how at the same time it was wildly inappropriate.
"He lost his luggage?" she asked Payson in a strangled voice, trying to keep her expression as neutral as possible. They had kept this a secret and for good reason. If it got out it would be an international scandal, it would ruin Sasha's career, probably his entire life.
"Yeah, Sasha said it somehow got taken off the plane in Paris and it should be here soon, but Boris insisted on calling himself," she said. "They could be a while."
Kaylie nodded, "I'm going to head back to my room to see if Lauren's done," she said and Payson smiled at her before moving back to their table where Emily, Kelly and Andrea still sat.
She grabbed an elevator and when the doors opened as it reached her floor she was greeted by a sleepy looking, bed-headed Austin Tucker. "Morning," she murmured, pushing past him, the scent of his cologne now invading her senses. She should have known better when Lauren had suggested Austin as a possibility. She knew exactly what Austin Tucker smelled like, and it wasn't citrus and sandalwood. He wore muskier cologne, a scent she hadn't identified, all she knew was it made her heart race. She turned quickly to say something to him, but he was disappearing behind the closing doors of the elevator. Her shoulders sunk as they made eye contact and then he was gone. She sighed and began making her way down the hallway when a sharp, 'Ding' stopped her progress.
"Kaylie?" his voice flowed, honey smooth over her name.
She turned to face him, surprised to find him standing directly behind her. "Hey Austin," she said, inhaling deeply. It was a heavy spice, a smoky scent, mixed with whatever soap he'd used. She closed her eyes, letting it wash over her.
"Are you okay?" he asked, stepping closer, her senses overwhelmed by his proximity now.
"Fine," she said. "Just going to grab my gym bag before we have to meet in the lobby," she said. I wonder if he knows, she thought and then it occurred to her and she shook her head, feeling like an idiot. Of course he knows. He and Payson are as thick as thieves. That's why they let the media have a field day, because if people think Payson and Austin are together, it gives each of them the perfect cover to do what they want, or who they want. And obviously Austin wants MJ.
"You're sure? You don't look fine." The concern in his voice actually made her heart ache. She'd thought she'd been doing the right thing by dating Nicky. He was a great guy, he gave her butterflies and they were good together. They made sense, the bickering and the banter and a solid foundation to build a relationship on. She looked up into his grey eyes, almost stormy as they pierced into her, digging around for the truth, like he had when she was sick.
She had her chance and she'd blown it, royally sunk every last hope she had to be with him. She nodded, forcing a small smile, "I'm fine, Austin, really."
He grimaced, acknowledging the small truce and somehow understanding that the idea of them was suddenly not possible, not after everything that happened, it was over. "Good luck today," he said, taking her hand and squeezing it tightly for a moment.
"Thank you," she said, as he dropped her hand and walked back to the elevator. She watched him for a moment, his back to her firmly, not wavering or turning. She walked back down the hallway trying to understand what just happened, castigating herself for her stupidity and blindness, but she stopped halfway to her room. This couldn't continue. She had to block it out. World Championships were today and her mind had to be clear. She didn't have time to focus on Payson or Sasha or Lauren or Nicky or Austin, the only thing she had time for today, was her team. She was a former National Champion and today, finally, she was going to compete like it.
Sasha stood on the floor, his arms crossed over his chest, a stance he normally took as he sent his gymnasts out to compete. He watched them closely, constantly encouraging and positive in front of the television cameras. Competition wasn't the time to correct errors; it was simply time to be there for his gymnasts. He felt a presence at his shoulder and knew it was her immediately. "You spoke to the girls," he said, as they looked around the packed arena.
"Yeah," she said, "They're ready. We're ready for this. We're the defending World Champions, despite that controversy and we're going to fight to keep it."
He uncrossed his arms and put a hand on her shoulder, giving it a brief squeeze. He couldn't help it, he had to touch her. It was such an incredible turn on when she got competitive and her voice took on that steely tone. It was one of the things he loved most about her, that drive to win, to be the best. She was practically a force of nature at moments like this and woe to anyone who got in her way.
He looked to his left and saw a camera man kneeling just a few feet away, the camera trained on them. He knew Payson was the story of these World Championships. She was the defending Champion and the tale of how she'd recovered from her injuries never ceased to be a media marvel, add to that the uproar that occurred when Austin had gone public with MJ and it was a miracle she'd managed avoided most of the media. Of course, Payson had done her upmost to remain aloof during several required interview sessions. If she was trying to imitate his famously unapproachable attitude when it came to the press, she was doing a remarkable job. He really hoped he was never on the receiving end of one of the icy glares she'd directed at one of the reporters earlier that day.
They filed into the arena and Sasha was prepared for anything. The European press was a lot tougher than the American press and they had the language barrier excuse to fall back on after they asked completely inappropriate questions.
Sasha stood just off to the side, his father next to him, both men glaring at the gaggle of reporters who were ready with questions for the girls. Most of the reporters had kept their questions gymnastics related or at the very least, hit on innocent topics like school and how the girls spent their time out of the gym, but there was always one…
"Payson," a woman with a French accent call, "How do you respond to reports of your boyfriend and your agent being together behind your back?"
Sasha opened his mouth, ready to respond for her, but he felt his father's hand on his shoulder. He watched Payson set her mouth into a firm line and lock her eyes on the reporter. He could have sworn the reporter actually cowered backwards. "You should really get your facts straight. Austin Tucker is my friend and MJ Martin is my agent and beyond that, I don't have a comment. I think we're done here," she said, standing and walking away from the group. There was a moment where the reporters were all completely silent before they began asking questions again, but one by one, led by Emily Kmetko, then the rest of the National Team as a whole stood and followed their captain away from the media.
"We're starting," Payson said, breaking into his thoughts. He turned to her, watching her square her shoulders and lift her chin. Their eyes met and Sasha nearly groaned aloud. The look in her eyes, it was almost predatory, the same expression she wore whenever she took control in bed. This was a different Payson Keeler; the old Payson was stoic and silent, allowing the competition to wash over her, her focus on her routines, calm and collected. She was a rock in the midst of chaos. She was different now, as if she were the root of the chaos. He could practically feel the heat radiating off of her. She was humming with energy, but she contained it beautifully. He looked over at the broadcasting trio only a few feet away, shuffling papers, preparing to go on air. They had no idea what they were about to see. He wished he could go over there and give them a heads up. He grinned to himself, but then it wouldn't be nearly as much fun to watch.
As the girls began to warm up on the vault Boris came to stand next to him. "She is different today," he said, as Payson fired down the run at full speed and powered into her Produnova.
Sasha nodded, watching as Emily vaulted her Yurchenko double.
"I have noticed this shift coming for a long time now. It is what I told you about, that bond between the two of you. I saw it happen when you went to train with Nicolai, only he taught you control."
Sasha turned to look at his father, "And what have I taught Payson?"
Boris chuckled heartily and motioned with his hand, flitting it through the air, "You have taught her how to fly."
Payson collapsed back onto the bed with a sigh. That was incredible. Her team had come out with a vengeance on the first day of competition, nailing routine after routine solidly, emphatically even. They had a narrow lead on the Chinese going into the team finals the day after tomorrow and Payson felt extremely confident in her teammates. She, Kelly Parker and Emily had all qualified for the All-Around and Payson had successfully qualified for all four event finals. Things were going exactly as they planned. They were going to prove to everyone that they were the best team in the world.
But first they had to attend the reception, the agonizingly horrible event that they'd been excused from last year because Ellen Beals thought it was too distracting. Apparently Boris did not share in this belief and was requiring all of them to attend.
She looked at the dress hanging from the closet door and sighed. Yet another party where she wouldn't walk in on Sasha's arm or be able to stand with him the entire night quietly mocking the other guests and commiserating about how much they didn't want to be there.
Emily emerged from the bathroom looking like a million dollars. "You look great, Em. Damon is going to flip." Emily twirled, allowing the dress to twirl with her, the black silk contrasting beautifully with her naturally fair complexion, her makeup expertly done, thanks to, Payson assumed, many lessons with Chloe over the years.
Emily stopped spinning and sat down on her bed, wringing her hands. "Thanks. Urg, I don't know why I'm this nervous. I wasn't even this nervous today during my routines. This is ridiculous."
Payson smiled, "It is not ridiculous, but as soon as you see him the nerves are going to fly away."
She'd been right, when Damon met Emily in the lobby of the hotel, she'd watched her friend morph from a ball of nerves into someone practically glowing with happiness. She sighed, unhappy with the longing tone it took on as Emily took Damon's arm and they went into the party together.
"I suppose I'm meant to overlook that?" Sasha said. She could feel him standing just behind her, the heat of his body practically pulling hers towards him. His cologne, that intoxicating combination of citrus and sandalwood that she immediately associated with him floated by her and she smiled. She wished she could stand up and fall into him; let his arms circle her waist, pulling her closer, brush his lips against her forehead, then down to her mouth. She huffed and turned to him cheekily, trying to brush aside her brief daydream.
"Overlook what? I don't see anything do you?" she responded, turning to face him with a smirk on her face. He just smiled down at her, their eyes twinkling playfully at each other before he looked away clearing his throat, eyes darting quickly around the lobby.
"Shall we go in?" he asked. She saw his hand twitch at his side before he obviously made a decision and held it out to her.
She smiled at him, taking his hand and holding it for a moment as he grasped the object she'd slid into it. "Eleven o'clock, room 433," she whispered as she stood, smoothing down her dress.
"You look beautiful in that dress," he whispered as he released her hand, placing her room key surreptitiously into his jacket pocket. "And you'll look even more beautiful out of it." She smiled, their eyes meeting just like they had before the competition began that morning.
Sasha swallowed roughly, the fire was back, the same fire she'd been brimming with all day long and now it was focused on him. She broke contact first and walked away from him and he admired the view as she entered the party without him, the blue silk of her dress sweeping gently across the backs of her thighs with each step she took. He checked his watch. It was eight o'clock. Christ, Beloff, you need a drink.