“Her legacy?”
“She’sJulia Stevens, youngest Olympic pairs figure skater to represent the UK.” Matilda air-quoted as if she’d heard the reference a hundred times. She stood up and moved to the other side of the dressing room. Slipping her sweater back over her head, she continued, “Or was. She was in the Olympics and won bronze, but had to stop after she had me, so she wants me to succeed for her, you know? I haven’t won the show yet, so it would be coolto.”
“Had to stop? Don’t lots of people compete in the Olympics after they’ve had children?” Jack asked, genuine interest lacing his voice.
“She was planning to compete at the next Games after she’d given birth to me, but I was an emergency C-section with quite a few complications, so she never got back the strength and flexibility that she needed.”
Jack’s eyes softened with sympathy. “Oh god, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”
“Oh, don’t worry—it’s fine. She can live through me now, anyway.” Matilda laughed but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.
“Did you not want to go to the Olympics?” If Matilda was shocked by my sudden interest, she didn’t show it. Her lips curved upward with a grim edge, lacking the usual warmth.
“I tried but didn’t make it.” She fiddled with something in the vanity drawer before returning to her seat. It was the first time I’d seen her this fidgety; besides, perhaps, when her sister had visited. “My mother wants me to win the show so much. It would be nice to get her off my back.”
I had no idea what tosay.
“Anyway, enough about me!” She shuffled the papers again, giving me whiplash from the change in subject. “After this first week of training, I think we have a good shot at making it to at leastthe quarters of the show. I haven’t seen the other skaters yet, so don’t take that as a guarantee, but I’m hopeful. We still need to work and get the audience to likeus.”
“I’m prepared to work. And as I said before, I will put on a good show when we needto.”
“That’s fine. They tell us the theme of each show three weeks in advance, so we currently only have the first three shows. The first is Musicals, the second is Props, and the third is Fantasy.”
“And we can choose our songs and choreography?”
“Within reason. We need to get approval of the music because of the rights and stuff, and the Safety team will want to review my choreography before we start practicing, but otherwise, yes.” She tightened the ponytail atop her head.
“And what are the producers like? The crew?” I wanted to kiss Jack for asking the question.
Matilda’s gaze flickered away momentarily, and a tiny crease formed between her brows before vanishing. She chuckled. “They’re OK, I guess. Pretty standard as far as producers go, or so I’ve been told. This is the only show I’ve worked on, so I don’t have a lot to compare it to. The crew are super friendly, though. And nonintrusive. They get what they need and don’t linger.”
I didn’t bother to question her on her vague answer around the producers because it didn’t matter—she wasn’t going to offer anything more, which just solidified that it was the right decision to keep her at arm’s length.
She changed the subject again. “So, any musicals that immediately spring to mind for week one? We can pick any musical we want, but it works on a first-come, first-served basis, so I want to get our choice in as soon as possible.”
Words spilled from my lips before I could filter them. “Encantohas some good music.”
Her eyes widened in disbelief, and she burst out laughing. Icrossed my arms, raising a brow.
“You are so right!” Jack joined in next to me, sitting up straight. “I fucking love that film. I swear, I almost cried at Mirabel’s prophecy.”
“You did cry,” I remindedhim.
“I didn’t.”
“You did.”
“Fine, but I saw you well up too, big guy, so you can stop pretending you’re a robot.” I rolled my eyes. “We’re rewatching it. It’s been decided.”
“What? We only watched it last week.” I released an exaggerated sigh.
“And? You were the one who just said the music was amazing.”
“I think I said it has some good music.”
“Which is basically the same thing.”
Rolling my eyes again at the idiot, I returned to a grinning Matilda.
