I gasp and stumble backward, teetering toward the stairs, but Fernando’s lightning-fast reflexes steady me. The next thing I know, my body is pressed against his. We’re both panting. I feel each breath as his chest rises and falls. “I didn’t know it was you. I thought you’d be Mamá or Tía Yulia.”
“You can be mad all you want at me,” I say, lifting my chin and meeting his gaze. “But I’m not going to leave you alone.”
“You’re an exception to the rule. I’ll always welcomeyou, Ava.” His words cause something in my stomach to flutter. He moves me away from the stairs and releases me. “I should’ve come to find you once Isabel left. I didn’t mean to leave you to fend for yourself.”
“I wasn’t alone. Your mom and aunts found me.” I glance to the door. “Can I come in?”
“Sí, sí.” He steps out of the doorway and gestures for me to follow.
Inside, the room is tastefully done up. The lower floor contains a desk, sofa, and TV. A sleek black wrought-iron staircase leads up to the room’s sleeping space and only window. There’s a king-sized bed, a side table with a quirky Salvador Dali-inspired lamp, and a dresser.
My attention goes to the creamy white walls, where there are three life-sized photos of Fernando. One of them has him standing on top of a podium next to a woman with dark hair, holding a gold medal.
The second is of him wearing a prince costume against a darkened background. His feet are turned out and he’s smiling widely to an invisible audience. The spotlight hits his face in just the right spot, illuminating his high cheekbones.
The last picture is of Fernando with his arms looped around a pair of skaters, each with gold medals looped around their necks. His eyes are glowing. It’s my favorite image of the three.
“Wow, these are bold.”
“Mamá had these printed and put up for me. I thought they’d be a lot smaller than this, not six feet tall. But she wanted something to ‘fill the room,’ she said.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Thethree photos each represent a milestone moment in my skating journey. Winning my first national title, getting a job with Dreams on Ice, and becoming a coach.”
I continue to study the portraits. In each image, I can see some subtle changes. The first photo has a baby-faced Fernando. His cheeks are slightly rounded, there’s no sign of any facial hair, and his shoulders aren’t as broad as in the other two images. As a prince, his body has filled out and there are a few fine lines around his eyes and mouth. “What competition is that?” I point to the last image.
“The World Championships.” He lowers his chin and studies the ground. “Those are my friends Frankie and Charlie just after they won the title. They were already world-class skaters when they asked me to help them out. They could’ve easily coached themselves. All I did was offer them some advice from an outsider’s perspective.”
“Fernando, stop being so bashful! Your friends did not just want your advice. I’m a hundred percent sure they asked you to coach them because you’re brilliant at what you do.” I shake my head, still trying to wrap my mind around the fact that he can add the title “Coach of World Champions” to his resume. “I bet all your students are stars.”
“They are. I have one team I co-coach with Charlie that just won the World Junior Championship title. We have big hopes for them when they move up to the senior division next season.”
“Wow. Just wow.” I point to the first photo. “Is that woman the partner who caused you to change career paths?”
“Yup, that’s Sylvie.” He chuckles. “As frustrating as our time was together, seeing that photo of us winning Nationals always reminds me that winning isn’t everything. It’s why I chose it.”
“That’s a good outlook to have. And what about the photo of you on tour?”
“That was taken a few days before I retired.”
“I can’t tell, which prince were you?”
“I wore a lot of hats, or rather, wigs. That day I was Prince Charming. But my favorite character to play was Aladdin.”
“I’m starstruck.” We walk over to the sofa and sit down. “I’m sitting with literal royalty.”
He throws his head back and laughs, revealing the light-hearted, happy-go-lucky man I met back in Sequoia Valley. “I’m more of a street rat than a prince, but I’ll still take the compliment.”
Fernando shares a few more stories with me about his time with Dreams on Ice before our conversation takes a more serious turn.
“How are you doing? Being surprised by Isabel couldn’t have been comfortable.”
“I’m okay. It still hurt to see her again, but it wasn’t as much of a shock to my system as it was in Madrid.” He sighs deeply. “We had a productive conversation. She wanted to clear the air between us.”
“After all this time?”
“Yes. There were a lot of things she wanted to get off her chest.” He crosses his leg and positions his body toward me. “We agreed that tonight wasn’t the best time or place to talk, so we’ll be meeting for breakfast.”
I swallow hard and squeeze my knees together. It’s just breakfast. Fernando is a level-headed man. I’m sure it doesn’t mean anything other than he’s willing to hear what his ex-fiancée has to say. I do my best to push aside the voice in the back of my head that’s telling me Fernando’s realized he still loves Isabel and wants to rekindle his relationship with her.
“Your, uh, aunts also said something about your dad that I was wondering about.” I fold my hands on my lap. “Is he upset that you aren’t going to take over the family business?”
