The lights in the arena were on full blast and the sound technicians were on standby, ready to pump crowd noise and music onto the floor when given the signal. Boris requested this in an effort to give their practice sessions a realistic feel, trying to quell some of the butterflies the girls were sure to feel the first time they walked into the O2 arena. Despite the years of training, the girls spent comparatively little time in a competitive atmosphere. This next week, ideally, would train them to simply block out all outside distractions and simply compete. The girls walked in together, putting their gym bags down on the chairs just off the edge of the podium set up, all four events placed in regulation format.
Sasha turned to his father who nodded seriously back and then turned towards the girls, "Ladies, ladies gather around," he said, waving them towards him. He looked over his shoulder at the small crowd of NGO officials and representatives from the Pepsi Center and snorted in their direction, but made no move to kick them out. Sasha eyed his father closely. That's out of character for the old bastard; usually he likes to play things close to the vest. Is the old man getting soft, Beloff? "Ladies, we have serious business to do this week. We must work very hard to become consistent and hit our routines. I will be watching for the next few days. I have an idea of what our roster will look like for qualification and team finals, this week will be instrumental in my final decision. I expect we are good enough to win team gold and many other medals besides, so work hard and stay focused and we will do so."
The girls remained stoic throughout the entire speech. Sasha turned and eyed Marty standing next to him. His old friend met his eye and a small smile appeared. It was like they suddenly traveled back in time and they were two friends out to conquer the world. The way it should have been in Sydney, before all that shit happened, before a woman came between you two, a woman neither of them really loved. So this is the moment then, Beloff. You've finally forgiven him, after all these years. He smirked and nodded to his old friend. "Let's go," he said. Sasha turned towards the audio booth in the second level of the arena and twirled his finger in the air, the universal sign for 'start it up.' Immediately they were surrounded by a wall of noise. Everyone physically jumped at the sudden influx of sound.
Boris nodded in satisfaction at the level of distraction created by the audio operators. "Sasha, Marty," he called, waving them over. "We will have four two girl rotations today working through each apparatus. To begin, I will have Payson and Isabella on bars; Kelly and Lauren on vault; Emily and Kaylie on beam and on floor, Justine and Andrea, of course." The girls nodded and moved off towards their assigned events, beginning to stretch and warm up as they would in a competition.
"And our guests?" Sasha asked, his eyes flickering towards the crowd of useless officials milling around the floor.
Boris scoffed and rolled his eyes, "Let them stay if they want. They will be bored very soon and leave I think." With those words he marched off towards the bars to examine the tension on the wires before Payson and Izzy began working.
"Nice form, Kelly," Sasha said as the former National and World champion powered through her Amanar vault, landing solidly with a bright smile. There were a lot of things Kelly Parker wasn't, but at the end of the day, she was still an excellent performer, turning the charm on and off as it suited her needs. "Keep that chin up," he instructed lightly and she reinforced it quickly, tilting her head to the sky. "Good job," he said, before focusing his attention on Lauren as she started down the runway.
He felt the presence of another person approaching from behind, coming to a stop just to his right and cleared their throat sharply, but he kept his attention on Lauren. "Excellent," he said as she nailed her vault with just a small hop. "Fight for that stick, Lauren.
She turned to him, "Yes, Sasha," she said and smiled before she and Kelly walked back to the end of the run together.
He turned and acknowledged Ellen Beals standing beside him with a short nod. She pursed her lips and nodded back. They stood in silence for another moment, as Sasha examined his clipboard carefully, marking down the small errors from each girl, but pleased with the results.
"The team seems to be taking shape," Beals finally spoke.
"No thanks to you," he muttered mostly to himself, but easily loud enough for her to hear him with perfect clarity.
"Oh, I don't know, Beloff. I like to think my influence was felt in the choosing of this team," she said, her voice taking on that unattractive smugness she was well known for.
Sasha shook his head and sighed, "Enough, Ellen, it's been three years. You lost, though it's beyond me what you were trying to accomplish in the first place. It's time to give it up. These girls are beyond your control and it's for that very reason that they'll win in two weeks."
"Hmm, we'll see about that, won't we? I still believe you and your rebel style is dangerous for this sport, Beloff and your girls, including Keeler, this country won't be able to count on them when it matters," she muttered to him, her tone shifting from smug to dangerous in a way that gave Sasha pause. He knew that tone. She was up to something and as she walked away, Sasha's eyes narrowed. He would be extra vigilant and warn everyone else to do the same.
"What was that about?" Lauren asked after she completed her vault and they watched Kelly begin her approach.
Sasha eyed Lauren carefully before turning to watch Kelly land the Amanar cleanly again. "Nothing but the same old crap," he muttered, but then reconsidered. Of all the girls, Lauren was probably the one most attuned to mischief, having usually wreaked the havoc herself. "Keep an eye on Beals, would you?" he asked. "The last thing we need is for her to be making a nuisance of herself in these last few weeks."
Lauren nodded, grabbing her water bottle and taking a drink. "Yeah," Lauren said, nodding in agreement. "You know she came to our house when we were taking our drug tests. I've never been so glad to have Chloe Kmetko for a step-mother, she made Beals stay outside and then had Dad's secretary follow them to the lab to make sure the samples weren't tampered with."
Sasha nodded, his brow raised in surprised, "Chloe Kmetko-Tanner, who knew?"
Lauren snorted, "I know, right? Anyway, I'll keep an eye on her."
"Just don't let it distract you from your training," Sasha added quickly unable to keep his coaching instincts down.
She rolled her eyes, "After all this time you still don't know much about women do you? We are masters of multi-tasking. Besides, I was already planning on watching that cougar's every move. You know she had a thing for my dad once? So gross," she said with a shudder and then her eyes drifted over Sasha's shoulder. She nodded at someone approaching from behind him and smiled, "All yours, Pay," she said, moving away to grab her gym bag and head to bars.
"Lauren's multi-tasking," Payson asked, as she tossed her gym bag to the floor began stretching her arms for vault. "That can't be good."
"Mmm," Sasha agreed, already regretting his words. He focused his eyes on Isabella as she started her first run towards the vault, landing a flawless double twisting Yurchenko. "Excellent," he called out. It would be nice, Beloff, wouldn't it? To only have to worry about gymnastics and not whatever new creative way to piss him off Beals is plotting? Nice, but boring, Beloff. "Let's go," he said to Payson. "I want to see both vaults and watch those cowboy legs on the Produnova. You want to sweep this thing, it needs to be flawless."
"Yes, Sasha," she said, her face the picture of seriousness, but he heard a note of something else in her voice and his mouth quirked up in a small smile. He turned towards her as she moved past him and met her eyes and there it was that sparkle, uniquely her, which always drew him in. He usually only saw that look on her face in the privacy of their home, when they could be alone, but now with three weeks of little physical contact looming ahead of them, that look was all it took to make his heart race. Makes you want to go find a nice quiet place, doesn't it, Beloff? He sighed and rolled his eyes at himself, rubbing at the back of his neck, trying to focus as she reached the edge of the run and zeroed in on the horse.
She raced down the runway at full speed, pounding into the springboard and ricocheting off the horse into the air for two saltos, landing blindly on the mat, arms raised in the air. She moved off the mat quickly to allow Izzy room to go again. "How was that?" she asked, smiling at him, her eyes still sparkling with that same expression.
"I swear, Pay," he whispered as she stepped next to him, "keep looking at me like that and…" he trailed off, his meaning crystal clear.
"And what?" she laughed. "This was your idea remember?" she said, nodding to Henry Palatt as he approached.
"Payson," Henry said, with a nod and then looked to Sasha. "Coach Beloff, Sasha, we need you for an interview now."
Sasha leveled the NGO's top PR rep with a look that would have shaken lesser men to the core, "I don't do interviews, Palatt. I'm sure my father and Marty would be more than happy to oblige."
Palatt rolled his eyes, obviously not deterred. "We'll get to them, but we want you first. You're the man of the year in gymnastics, Beloff. Eight athletes in London, five of the six on the women's side and you have a certain appeal that your father, all due respect, doesn't."
"Appeal?" Sasha asked, his brow rising speculatively.
"The women love you," Palatt said, not mincing his words. Just a few feet away, Payson snorted and Sasha glared at her before she shrugged and went back to stretching. "The women love you and quite frankly, you're the face we want out there representing us, the James Bond of gymnastics, you know."
Sasha rolled his eyes, remembering that phrasing from one of his unofficial biographies. "Fine, ten minutes and then I have to get back to doing my job," he relented, pointedly ignoring Payson's amused chuckle as they walked past her towards where a camera crew and reporter were waiting just off the podium. The reporter turned and faced them and Sasha recognized her immediately. It was Meredith Hanover, formerly of Sports Illustrated and more recently of ESPN, the same woman who'd invaded his gym one day and practically undone all the progress he'd made with Emily's confidence in five seconds. The article she wrote in the end was flattering, but that didn't excuse her behavior.
"Hell no," he muttered to Palatt, wheeling around to glare at the younger man. "You didn't say anything about that hack. Not going to happen."
Palatt rolled his eyes and Sasha continued to glare. "Suck it up, Beloff. The woman loves you and your girls. She's a practical USA gymnastics cheerleader since she paid your gym a visit a few years back. It'll be a couple of meatball questions and that's it."
"Ten minutes, Palatt. That's all," he ground out from between his teeth and then turned to march over to the woman.
"Coach Beloff, so nice to see you again," the redheaded reporter said, with a smile, extending her hand.
He ignored it, responding with a curt nod, "Miss Hanover. Let's just get this over with, shall we?"
"Right," she said, motioning towards her camera man and apparent assistant as he walked over and attached a microphone to Sasha's collar. "So just a few questions, quick and painless."
Sasha just nodded, trying to neutralize his expression as much as possible. Hanover nodded to the cameraman who counted down aloud, "Five, four, three," he went silent, using his hand to indicate, two and then one, before Meredith turned to face the camera fully, "We're here with Sasha Beloff, an assistant coach of the US Women's Olympic Gymnastics team. Coach Beloff is the personal coach of five of the athletes on the women's team and three on the men's, making him easily the most talked about coach in the sport. Coach Beloff, what makes your methods so much more successful than those of other coaches?" she asked, finally turning towards him.
Sasha shook his head, "First of all, the Rock houses extremely talented athletes, all of whom put in the years of hard work and dedication necessary to compete and succeed at this level. I'm not sure how it happened, but as the Olympic trials drew closer, suddenly it appeared that most of the top competitors on the men's and women's side were at the Rock. I think they drove each other to improve and become the best."
"You're too modest; you did assemble another dream team, in 2004 at the head coach of the Romanian gymnastics team. I think it's safe to say you had something to do with it. What's your coaching philosophy?"
"I try to develop both an athlete's strengths and his or her weaknesses, though I always approach each gymnast in a different way. No two athletes respond to coaching in the same way, so I vary my approach."
Meredith nodded, seemingly fascinated with his simple answer, "And with Payson Keeler, the miracle girl who broke her back and now seems ready to sweep the gold medals in London? How did you approach her?"
He allowed himself a small smile as she mentioned Payson. "Payson was…is special. It wasn't easy, after her injury we had to reinvent her entirely, from the ground up and I can't say enough about the kind of dedication and perseverance she showed to get where she is now. I couldn't be more proud of her and her accomplishments thus far."
Sasha knew he'd made a mistake, when the reporter's eyes lit up at his answer. She sensed he didn't mind talking about his athletes and now she was going in for the kill. Great job, Beloff, and now you're stuck. So a half hour later, when he finally was able to pull the microphone from his collar and handed it back to the cameraman, Sasha felt like he'd made a good show of it.
"Coach Beloff," the reporter said as he stood up from the uncomfortable wooden stool. "I never did get a chance to apologize for my rudeness that day at the Rock. I am sorry. Good luck in London. I'll be there for ESPN."
He nodded, "Thanks," he said, briefly and stepped away, fully intending to go back to where the girls were still training, but he was intercepted by Palatt.
"I thought you didn't do interviews," the PR man said, a smug smile across his face.
Sasha glared at him for a moment, before shaking his head, "Shut up."
Payson sat patiently on her bed. They were expected downstairs for what Henry Palatt had called a team dinner, but what was shaping up to look more and more like a party. The Denver City Council and their staffs, reps from the Pepsi Center, the national committee along with members of the media and several of the Team USA sponsors were all expected to attend. She couldn't believe Boris agreed to it, unless of course this was their price of admission to the Pepsi Center for the week, which it probably was.
She stood, moving in front of the full length mirror again, smoothing down the silk of her dress. She studied her reflection carefully, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. She hadn't worn this dress in a long time, the last time being the party at the Istanbul hotel where she and Sasha made love for the first time and said goodbye to each other for nearly seven months. The dress had found a home in the back of her closet since then, but while packing for Denver she brought it out. She still loved the dress despite the memories she associated with it, or maybe because of those memories.
She looked at the clock with a sigh. Almost late, Keeler. She pounded on the bathroom door, "Come on, Kelly. I'm sure you look great. We're going to be late."
"I'm almost done, Keeler, chill," Kelly's voice called back, obviously not in a hurry. "And don't pound on the door. I almost blinded myself with my eyeliner."
Payson rolled her eyes and sighed, resigning herself to being late. Then suddenly there was a knock on the door and on the other side was someone she didn't expect.
"Miss Beals," she said, eyeing the former national team coordinator and coach carefully. "What can I do for you?"
Beal smiled sweetly, though Payson knew that was for show. "I just wanted to make sure you knew what was expected of you tonight," Beals said, pushing past her into the room.
"By all means, come in," she said sarcastically, but she was ignored.
"There are some very important people attending this dinner tonight, people who have a lot invested in the NGO and in your success."
Payson narrowed her eyes, "I'm well aware of that, Miss Beals. I've been dealing with people like this for quite some time."
Beals pursed her lips, "Good. There's one man in particular I'd like you to spend some time with tonight. He was instrumental in granting Beloff's ridiculous demand that we reserve the Pepsi Center for the entire week. Matt Haggerty, I'll introduce you two tonight. He's a big fan of yours and I want him to understand that his efforts on our behalf are fully appreciated."
Payson smiled tightly, "Great," she said, moving towards the door and holding it open for Beals, hoping she'd get the message. "I'll see you down there in a bit." Beals frowned, but took the hint and left the room.
Almost as soon as the door was shut, Kelly emerged from the bathroom. "Let's go," she said, after examining her make up in the mirror as well as turning and twisting to catch her dress from every angle, the short black strapless number looking fabulous on her.
They moved down the hallway together, calling for an elevator, which quickly arrived.
"I thought I heard Ellen Beals before. That woman's voice is like nails on a chalkboard," Kelly said as the door shut, though she didn't hesitate to check out her reflection again in the mirrored doors and walls of the car.
"You did," Payson said with a sigh. "She wants me to schmooze some guy from the Pepsi Center tonight."
"Hmm," Kelly said, obviously not really all that interested.
They reached the top floor of the hotel, where the party was being held and the doors opened with a ding. As they stepped out they saw almost the entire room packed with people dressed formally, obviously attending what Payson had mistakenly imagined as a relatively small gathering.
She was quickly able to catch Sasha's eye across the room. He smiled at her, his eyes flicking over her form before meeting her gaze again. His expression spoke volumes. He recognized the dress that much she was sure of and for the first time in a long time she felt a blush creep up into her cheeks.
"Wow," Kelly said, her voice drawing her out of the tiny little universe they'd just created.
She turned towards the smaller girl, though Kelly's stilettos brought them almost to eye level tonight. "What?" she asked, though the question was quickly answered for her.
"Payson, Kelly," Ellen Beals said, approaching from their right with a young man in tow. "There's someone I'd like you to meet. This is Matt Haggerty, Vice President of Operations for the Pepsi Center. Matt this is Payson Keeler and Kelly Parker."
Wow, indeed. Payson thought. Matt Haggerty was extremely good looking. Dark hair, neat, but one unruly lock falling across his forehead charmingly, tall, probably about six foot, an athletic frame, his suit fitting him extremely well.
"It's a pleasure to meet you both," he said, extending his hand, which they both shook quickly.
"Kelly, would you come with me," Ellen said almost immediately, "There are few people I want to introduce you too. Please excuse us." Without waiting for Kelly to respond, she led the former National Champion away, leaving Payson alone with this young man.
She smiled tightly at him and he responded fully, a smile making his face even more handsome. "I have to tell you, I'm a huge fan of yours," he said. "Your story is incredibly inspiring."
"Thank you," she said. "So Vice President of Operations, that sounds like a big deal. Rumor has it you're the one who managed to snag us the space this week. Thank you for that, by the way. It's really helpful to train on a podium in advance. I can't tell you how much we appreciate it."
He rolled his eyes a little and shrugged, a modest grin appearing on his face, "Well, like I said, it's part of my job. I was glad to do it, anything to help the golden girl on her 'quest for perfection'."
It was her turn to roll her eyes, "We'll see," she said, smiling as the music started up. It was an old favorite of hers and a song that had turned into a special one for her and Sasha, Nat King Cole's When I Fall in Love. She sighed and then looked up to see Matt look at her expectantly. "I'm sorry, did you say something?" she asked, embarrassed.
He smiled down at her, "I asked if you'd like to dance."
"Oh, umm." She hesitated, looking around, seeing other people migrating to the dance floor. "Sure, I – uh, I guess so," she said, taking the hand he offered her.
It was odd, being in another man's arms, as he led her slowly around the dance floor. Suddenly, it seemed, the modesty from earlier was gone, as he regaled her with tales of his exploits as Vice President of the Pepsi Center, a job he seemed to think was akin to perhaps Vice President of the United States. Apparently he was extremely young to be in such a highly coveted position, making a ridiculous amount of money, much of which he seemed to have invested into several vehicles, the make, model and description of which he insisted on giving in excruciating detail, though in his defense, Payson wasn't paying much attention. Her eyes had locked onto Sasha's midway through the dance as he watched from the edge of the dance floor, a scowl across his face.
Then her focus was ripped away from him as she felt Matt move in closer, the hand at her waist suddenly drifting down lower, "I'm so glad we were introduced tonight," he said, his hot breath uncomfortable against her ear. "I can't wait to get to know you better. I know just how appreciative you are for having my arena at your disposal for the week. Just say the word and we can get out of here. I've got a room upstairs…"
His words finally registered in Payson's mind and she tried to step back, but his grip on her waist was firm. Her eyes flew up to his and she glared at him, opening her mouth to tell him off, but she never got the chance. She looked up to see Sasha standing just behind him, his hand resting on the younger man's shoulder. "Excuse me," he said his tone even and measured, but Payson could see the tension in the corners of his eyes and mouth. It was an expression she hadn't seen in a long while and she knew he was one wrong word from this idiot away from beating him to a bloody pulp. "You don't mind if I cut in, do you?" he asked, his hand squeezing tightly where Matt's shoulder met his neck.
Payson stepped back and sighed in relief as the young executive seemed to realize he was beaten. "Not at all," he said and though his voice was light, Payson could see both confusion and displeasure in his expression.
He moved away quickly and Payson watched him go before she felt Sasha's hand press against the small of her back, twisting lightly into the fabric of her dress, his other hand taking hers as they began to move to the music.
"Who was that?" he asked ass he looked up at him.
"Matt Haggerty, VP of Operations for the Pepsi Center. Beals wanted me to meet…" she trailed off as it all clicked into place. She wanted you to show him how appreciative you were and he seemed to think that you appreciated his efforts a lot more than you actually did. "That bitch," she muttered under her breath, though Sasha heard her.
"Beals," he guessed easily as she nodded and voiced her suspicions, that Beals had told Matt Haggerty that Payson would like to show her appreciation in a much more concrete way than a simple thank you and set her up for at least a scene in front of the media or had things gone as planned, a possible scandal just before the Olympic games. She could practically see the news reports in her mind: Olympic Golden Girl sleeps with VP of Pepsi Center to gain access to facilities.
"This is low, even for her," Payson said, moving closer to Sasha, taking strength from his presence, his scent surrounding her, soothing her. Her hand on his shoulder moved up against his neck, curling around it, feeling his pulse against her thumb, a strong and steady beat, calming her nerves.
"We just have to keep our eyes open and stay on top of her," he said quietly as the song softly came to an end.
They stood there for a moment and then Payson smiled, "First dance together, in public anyway," she said.
He nodded, taking a step away from her, obviously realizing how close they were standing. "Thank you for the dance," he said, grabbing her hand quickly and squeezing it before moving past her and practically disappearing into the crowd.
She didn't see him for the rest of the night, being bounced from one guest to another, practically accosted by Boris for a solid hour discussing the intricacies of developing the upper body strength required for an eight A-score on the uneven bars and trying to keep Ellen Beals in her crosshairs, she was completely exhausted by the time she and Kelly returned to their room.
"So that guy was totally hot," Kelly said, as she kicked off her heels.
Payson blearily unzipped her dress and began to change into her pajamas. "Who?" she asked, as she pulled her hair into a pony tail and moved into the bathroom to wash her face.
"Matt, what's his name? From the Pepsi Center. He must have a thing for blondes or something, but seriously, Keeler, you have a boyfriend or is lover boy not doing it for you, so you're looking elsewhere?"
She barely registered the words coming from Kelly's mouth as she shut off the faucet and wiped her face on a towel.
"You really won't spill about who you're dating?" Kelly asked, as she moved back into the room.
Payson shook her head, a yawn overtaking her countenance, "Nope," she managed around the yawn, climbing into bed.
"Oh come on, at least give me his first initial, that way I can call him by that," Kelly begged and Payson rolled her eyes. She suddenly wondered if all those times she joked that Kelly Parker didn't have any friends if she hadn't' hit the nail on the head. She seemed awfully curious about Payson's personal life and in a way that suggested she hadn't engaged in much girl talk lately, if ever.
"A," Payson said, smiling to herself, as she snuggled under the covers. "His first initial is A and no, it's not Austin Tucker. Good night, Kelly."
She felt rather than saw Kelly roll her eyes, as she flicked off the light near her bed. "Good night, Payson."