The camera zooms in on Katarina’s face, echoing the close-up of Sheila Lin before her 1988 gold medal skate. Like Sheila, Katarina looks totally confident, as if she’s already triumphed.
Ellis Dean:Katarina Shaw was in the building, and that bitch had come towin.
Chapter 80
Less than thirty minutes left.
We’d already warmed up and triple-checked every piece of equipment, from our skate blades to the bobby pins in my hair. All we could do now was wait for our turn on the ice.
Heath’s back still hurt, and my foot still throbbed, but I knew we could push through the pain. We were stronger than ever—as individuals and as a team. We could win.
I left my skates under Heath’s watchful eye as I headed backstage for a final makeup touch-up. Right as I reached the women’s dressing room, the door swung open. I stood aside to let the person exit, focusing on the floor tiles rather than meeting their eyes. I had no interest in trying to psych out my competitors; this was about me and Heath, no one else.
Then I saw the black skates. Only men wore black skates in competition.
I looked up. Into the cold hazel eyes of Dmitri Kipriyanov.
He held my gaze for a second—face slack with surprise, full lips flushed pink—before walking away, leaving the door swinging in his wake. Yelena must be in the dressing room. She’d needed something, and he brought it to her. That was the only explanation.
But when I went inside, the only person there was Francesca Gaskell.
She stood at the mirror, applying another coat of rosy lipstick. The same color smeared across Dmitri’s mouth. When she saw me, she smiled.
“Love the dress,” Francesca said. “How’d you find another one so fast?”
“It’s a long story.” I stepped closer. “Look, I saw Dmitri.”
She capped the lipstick tube and turned to face me.
“I don’t know what’s going on between you two,” I said. “But he’s not a good guy.”
Francesca only blinked at me, the picture of wide-eyed innocence.
“Maybe he’s different with you, but if he ever hurts you, or—”
“I appreciate your concern. You don’t have to worry, though.”
Her voice was all warmth. Something colder glinted in her eyes.
“Dmitri would never hurt me.”
Dmitri’s not smart enough…not on his own.
But Francesca was. Smart enough to plot behind my back while smiling in my face. Skilled enough at playing so sweet that no one would suspect a thing.
Don’t trust anyone.
“I thought you of all people would understand,” she said.
“Me?” I took a step back. “Why?”
“Because you’reKatarina Shaw.You’ll do anything to win.”
“That’s not—”
“You and Heath areclearlybad for each other, and yet you keep reeling him back again and again so you can use him to get what you want.”
She zipped up her makeup bag. The metallic slide set my teeth on edge.
