Bryce laughed but hung back a moment.

  “Listen, Cole, I, uh…” Bryce began awkwardly. “I know that you’re busy with Echo’s training. And I don’t want to distract you from that at all, I mean…she needs you right now. But maybe sometime when you have a chance… There’s a project, a foundation, I’m working on getting started and I’d like to have your input on it.”

  “My input? Why would you want my input?” Unease made my gut clench.

  “I’m not going to be able to play singles tennis much longer,” Bryce confided. “And I’m fine with that, because I’d rather play with Tami, anyway. But even then… I want to still do something in tennis, though. Coaching someday, but not while Tami is still at the top of her game and traveling—I want to travel with her, and that wouldn’t be fair to anyone I might work with. When she was growing up, Tami’s parents tried to pay for the kinds of lessons and tournaments and things she would have needed to get her into tennis competitively, but it’s expensive and the travel involved…” Bryce slowed his pace to prolong the conversation, and I found myself slowing as well, now more than a little bit curious about whatever it was Bryce was proposing.

  “So, I want to start a foundation that will help out young players like Tami was. The ones who have the drive, but not necessarily the means to play. I want to have camps and tournaments where the necessary materials and coaches are provided for them, but where their families carry none of the cost, and—”

  “It sounds fantastic,” I interrupted. “But I still don’t understand how I fit in to all these ideas, exactly.”

  “Well, I know your specialty for coaching is track and field events, but I’m sure you have some friends, or at least contacts from the program you went through, who might be looking for a job with something like this.” Bryce responded as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

  “You don’t think you might have better tennis contacts, given your position?”

  “Not ones who would really be able to appreciate where the kids I want to reach are coming from. I want coaches who they’ll relate to and respond to—and quite frankly, they deserve to have a chance, too, those coaches. I’m always afraid with things like this that there would be too much nepotism. Probably because there’s so much of it at Legacy Sports… I mean, it’s what Gramps always wanted. To be sure the family at large would be provided for, and that’s great, but keeping it too close, pushing some of us into that business… It wasn’t what I wanted and I know it’s not what Echo wants,” Bryce admitted, more freely than I was expecting. “I hope this all helps her feel more comfortable standing up for herself, for what she wants to do with her life.”

  We were just about at the car, and I could see Tami and Jen huddled inside, warming themselves.

  “I, uh…I’ll put out some feelers for you, yeah,” I promised Bryce, who grinned and clapped me on the shoulder before climbing into the driver’s seat. Feeling slightly dazed, I circled to the passenger side of the car to climb in as well.

  I was distracted as we drove into the city to the finish line. Every so often, Jen nudged me and showed me her phone where the local news networks were covering the race. Echo was still in the pack of leaders, making good time. They seemed to follow her a lot, so I knew the newscasters were probably discussing her shift from charity participant to active competitor, and what that might mean.

  I wasn’t sure I was ready to start dealing with the interruptions to her training the inquisitive sports media would inevitably cause—of course, I was more prepared for that than for the fact that not all of the Coulters were as fame-hungry and obsessed with their wealth as I’d always imagined them to be. As I stared out the window at the tenements, laundromats, shops, and restaurants that lined the increasingly urbanized streets into Boston, I struggled to recalibrate my mind.

  Just like Echo, Bryce had surprised me. Maybe it was time to reevaluate the way I thought of the Coulter clan.

  19

  Echo

  It took me a few minutes to locate and recognize my family after crossing the finish line. I was too focused on the race itself. I was pretty sure I’d placed well—the top ten, at least—but all I saw was the blue, yellow, and white of the finish line. I had only been paying attention to the woman in front of me. My legs burned—more than I was used to, after crossing that familiar line. And my lungs, well, they felt like they were about to burst from my chest. I walked around a bit until my pulse quieted in my ears and the cheering of the crowd replaced it.

  Cole was the first person I saw, though he hung back a bit from my parents and siblings as they slipped from their places in the crowd to come and hug me. My eyes stayed with him, caught by the intensity in his gaze. I saw him nod and smile, and I burst out into a smile of my own. I didn’t even care that one of the news crews had pointed a camera in our direction. I only hoped the microphones were focused on the large group gathering around the woman who’d won and that the cameras would soon get their fill of the Coulter family party slipping off to one side of the street.

  Cole said something to someone in a bright security vest before coming to join the larger group. The television cameras were soon pointed in another direction, allowing me and my family as much privacy as could be expected.

  “You did wonderful, honey,” my mother said, wrapping a solar blanket around my shoulders to trap in my body heat.

  “How’d I place?” I panted.

  “Fourth,” my father told me.

  “Awesome job, Echo,” Bryce nodded, while Tami came in to give me a quick hug.

  “With a bit more training you’ll be on that podium, no problems,” Gramps said with a grin.

  I started shaking my head, but my mind was still too clouded from focusing on the race itself to find the words I needed. “I like running marathons,” I tried to explain. “I don’t like racing them.”

  Gramps was dismissive. “You’ll like them better when you’re up on that podium, trust me,” he assured me.

  I grit my teeth, listening to several more murmurs of agreement from my family group. I winced as I took a step and felt the muscles in my right leg start to seize, just as they had the week before during training.

  Cole quickly pushed through to slip one of my arms over his shoulders and help me get out of the crowd.

  “Let’s get you to the medical tent and have you checked out. We can discuss things there.”

  He spoke loud enough for the rest of my family to remember where we were. Bryce quickly took up my other side so that I didn’t need to worry about putting any weight on my uncooperative right leg.

  A number of the first elite runners were in the medical tent being given liquids and warming blankets to counteract the effects of the chilly morning—so far, the weather hadn’t warmed up as much as the weathermen had predicted. Some of the wheelchair participants were having blisters checked, as well. There wasn’t much the medical officials could advise for me, beyond taking a rest and perhaps massaging the cramps out of my muscles.

  “You can stay here for a little while, but when more runners start coming in, we’ll be needing these spaces for more serious cases,” one of the organizers said, nodding to me, Cole, and a few other members of my family to be sure they understood as well. Then she disappeared back to the front of the tent, where the crowd could be heard erupting into exuberant applause, as the first of the elite men’s group came into sight from farther up Boylston Street.

  Cole pulled up a seat and propped my leg in his lap so he could get to work on relieving the knots in my muscles.

  “I think you’re selling yourself short,” Gramps began, picking up the topic that I thought had been successfully dropped. “If you put everything you’ve got into the marathon—”

  “I want to run the half mile,” I interrupted. “I want to run the events I like best and feel like I’ll do well in. I can’t do that if I put everything into the marathon.”

  “The marathon is more—” my grandfather continued.

  “She’s not running the marathon for the Olympics,” Cole interrupted, not looking up from where his fingers were pressing into the flesh of my calf.

  “Well, that’s not up to you, is it? It’s up to her and—” Gramps snapped.

  “And she’s said she doesn’t want to run it,” Cole said calmly. “Given what I’ve seen from her in training the last few weeks, I don’t want her running it, either. This is causing too much wear and tear on her muscles. Pushing herself to go faster over such a long distance is not good for her. What’s more, she doesn’t want to run it, so she’s inherently less likely to win. She can and has been pushing herself to her limits, but without that heart-and-soul drive to run it, to win…she won’t. She wants to run the 800-meters, so that’s the race we’ll be pushing her for, and she’ll still have time to train and run in other events, as well.”

  Cole’s voice rose and fell before finally leveling out. Everyone watched Gramps to see how he’d react. His face was red and he clenched his jaw. Cole stared him down, an impressive feat, since he was seated while the older man was still standing. The ache in my leg stopped bothering me; I was too caught up in the power struggle playing out before us.

  “Do you have any idea how much time we lost last week because of these leg cramps?” Cole added. “How long it takes for her to get back on her feet. And in a place where she can really run again?”

  “It’s a couple hours,” I spoke up, turning to Cole, who nodded his agreement. “Usually means the end of training for the day.”

  “Even more time lost, then,” Cole stated.

  “Why don’t we drop the issue for now, and discuss it at a better time,” Bryce suggested, glancing over his shoulder at the attention we were beginning to attract.

  “Fine,” Gramps agreed. “It can wait until you’re not as…tired as you are now. When you’ve recovered enough to think things through more clearly.”

  I had to force my jaw shut to keep from saying anything. He is my grandfather; cussing him out is not a good look. Gramps turned to smile at me, but it wasn’t as reassuring as I thought he meant it to be.

  Regardless, I smiled tightly and played along. Eventually, Gram dragged him and the rest of the family away to give me some space and rest.

  Finally, it was just me and Cole in our little corner of the tent. There was a lull in the general activity around us; the elite male runners were just now coming across the finish line, and the interviews and crowning ceremonies were segueing into the general commotion of the other ten-thousand-plus runners.

  “Thank you,” I whispered as he massaged my calves.

  “Feeling better?”

  “Yes, but that’s not what I meant,” I inclined my head toward the tent opening. “Standing up for me just now. My family can be a bit…intimidating, especially if they gang up on you.”

  “You’re not entering the marathon competitively, and that’s that.” He reiterated with a dismissive shrug. “I don’t care how many times they push the point. I’m your coach, even if they are the ones who pay me right now. Fact of the matter is, there isn’t enough time to get your marathon time down before qualifiers. They’re only a few weeks away. The risks outweigh the rewards. Besides, I’ve seen you run the 800-meters. From what I’ve seen, you’ve got your heart in that run. That’s what’s going to get you gold, and the gold is what will bring the prestige your grandfather seems to crave. You might even be able to break a world record in the process.”

  “The marathon…it takes too long,” I groaned as I sat up straighter and Cole removed his hands from my leg. “And it hurts. Plus, it’s too much time alone with my thoughts. There isn’t enough to carry me all the way through. The stuff I use to push myself…it gets used up and I’m left with, well, with the less useful stuff.”

  “The doubts,” Cole offered, holding out a hand to help me up.

  “Exactly.” I took his hand and eased myself back onto my feet. I was still a little wobbly, but steadier than the trip into the tent, and more runners were arriving in need of the cots, so we needed to clear out. “Can you walk me back to my hotel so I can shower? Just want to make sure I get there without collapsing.”

  Cole chuckled as he nodded and led the way out of the tent. I was grateful the media was preoccupied with the crowning of the men’s winners at the moment. It allowed the two of us to slip away quietly, though given the state of my legs, we weren’t moving very fast.

  “It was true, wasn’t it,” Cole said quietly. “About wanting to be a designer,” he clarified. “That night when we… You said you had been accepted to design school. After everything…I assumed you had been lying, that it was all part of whatever act you were putting on. But I’ve seen you run, and you do enjoy it. I mean, some races more than others, but I haven’t seen the…the joy, the thrill that you had when you were talking about classes starting and started drawing.”

  I flushed. “It was the truth. I went to tell my parents about my plan, and that was when they sprung this whole thing on me. That they’d gotten me a coach so I could finally pursue the Olympic dream they thought I had. It was impossible to tell them no.” I avoided mentioning my father. “They were so excited about it, and it was such a generous offer…”

  “You’re bad at saying ‘no,’ you know that?”

  I frowned. “When it comes to my family…yeah, I’m still working on that.”

  “I’ll help you with that, too,” Cole offered. “I’m actually really good about saying ‘no’. Too good, sometimes.” He licked his lips and his gaze focused on mine. “And not good at other times.”

  I flushed and looked away. “Running might not be what I want in the long term,” I started. If we talked about things now, I might spontaneously combust. Better to stay on the safe path. “But I know that coaching is what you’re passionate about, and that this Olympic push is your chance to make your career. I want you to know that I’m not going to let you down, I can want this enough to win and help you get what you—”

  He stopped me there. “Listen to me very carefully,” Cole interrupted. “You’ve got enough pressure on you without putting the entire weight of my career on yourself, too. You’re not responsible for me. This isn’t my only chance to make a name for myself…it’s just a chance, and I don’t want to be…beholden to anyone for whatever my career may become.”

  “You deserve your fair share of the credit,” I added. “I don’t want them saying that I would still have won without you. Because it’s not true. And I get that you don’t want to give them the impression that you’re the only reason I’m as good as I am.”

  “I guess. God, that sounds…” He shook his head.

  I smiled faintly but couldn’t disagree with him. “Well, I promise I’m not doing it just for you. Or for my parents, or my grandfather, or anything like that. At first, I let that whole side of things… But once I was able to think about it more… Doing this, especially if I can win, it will create so many opportunities for me that are along the lines I want. After qualifiers, the endorsement offers will start. And if I can find someone interested in helping me design a clothing line, even if it starts out based on athletic-wear, I have plenty of ideas, it would be a foot in the door. I’d have the funds to pursue design school on my own terms, and I have my degree to back me up…” Shut up. I needed to stop rambling.

  “You should do it. You know, whether you win or not, I mean. You have to have the connections from Legacy Sports already. Don’t they sell clothes in those stores? Anyway, you have ‘ins’ with those guys already. Don’t wait till you have a medal and all kinds of pressure from the media hoping to see you fail. Get started now, and figure it out while things are still quiet.”

  I stared at him. “But…my family.”

  “All due respect…fuck ’em. This is your life.”

  We reached the hotel and he took me up to my room. Both of us hesitated.

  I looked up to see Cole’s intense gaze on mine. It was the same look he’d given me in the bar and in the bathroom. Heat crept up my neck as I flushed deep.

  “You should go and, uh, take a shower. Are you strong enough to stand?” As thick as his voice was, I couldn’t help but think of the bathroom. What we’d done. Or, rather, what I’d done to him. And the way he’d kissed me.

  “Uh,” I said, and let go of his shoulder. “Yeah. I’m…fine, thanks. See you later.”

  His lips twisted into a wry, self-deprecating smirk. “Of course. Well done today, Echo.” He turned and headed back toward the elevators.

  I let myself in and groaned. Partly from pain. Partly from fatigue. And partly from frustration. We hadn’t had a real moment to talk in days. He’d given my legs a two day rest, and then it had been training, and yesterday was all about prep. I’d had a race to focus on. And last night we’d spoken, but it was hardly the time. Not with my parents next door. I was amazed I was able to get to sleep. Thankfully, I’d taken a sleeping pill. And just now he’d seemed like he wanted to say something. But he hadn’t. And I didn’t have the courage to go down to his room and demand he talk to me. Or…other things. So many other things. He drove me nuts. And I was caught between wanting him and knowing I couldn’t really have him.

  I couldn’t get him out of my already overcrowded head. There wasn’t room for him anywhere but as my coach, so it was useless to dwell on it… No matter how much I might think about him.

  Despite his appearance or anger, he’d shown that he was in my corner. And after everything, I needed someone like that. He wanted the best for me. He also wanted to win. But he’d been sincere when he encouraged me to pursue my own dreams. And he was right. I liked to run. And I was good at it. But I didn’t love it. And right now, with all the cramping and pain, I hated it. Not to mention everything else crowding my head.

  That was what I’d spent so much of my race thinking about. What could be wrong with my father, and why weren’t they saying anything more? When would they tell the others? Was their silence a good sign? A bad one? Were they afraid that telling me would be a distraction, now that I was so deep into training? The qualifiers were just around the corner. If something were seriously wrong would they wait until after those to say something about it, or would they put it off until after the Olympics themselves were behind me?