If so, I had a reason. For weeks I’d peered around corners and under beds for a boogey man who so far had only sent videos and texts. Did Connor have a simple interest in Veena’s career, like a lot of sports-crazed Americans? Or could it be something more sinister? Lunch with him suddenly seemed less like a guilty pleasure. Brown had checked him out, but if we needed to know something about him, I would discover it.
Copper Mountain had its own little village, not so fancy as Vail’s, but still charming with occasional fire pits and evergreens wrapped in twinkly lights. A few people hurried past ski shops and restaurants, wrapped up in their winter gear. I caught glimpses of people skiing and riding on the mountain through the gauzy fog of the storm.
Connor pointed at a deli. “What about here?”
We ducked inside, loosening our coats and stomping our boots on the wet doormat. A few tables were taken, but we found one by the window.
The waitress took our order. A Reuben for Connor, a BLT for me. Mom used to make a PBLT—the usual stuff plus a thin layer of homemade pesto. My dad’s family recipe, she’d said. I missed that.
Outside, the snow raced by with the wind, let up and drifted, and raced again. Inside, it felt impossibly warm. I avoided Connor’s eyes and studied the other people eating. Why was I so nervous? This wasn’t really a date. Only—it felt like one. And now I was suspicious and confused on top of everything else.
“When did you get here?” I asked.
“Last night.”
“That was smart. We should’ve done that too.”
“At least you made it.”
I swallowed a sip of water, trying to decide how to play this. I could be calculating—flirt with him in an effort to get more information—or direct. I sighed to myself, already knowing the answer. Subtlety wasn’t my style.
I crossed my arms on the table and fixed a neutral expression on my face. “Why are you here, Connor?”
“What do you mean?”
“In Copper. Don’t they have their own ski patrollers here?”
He pulled a face. “That happy to see me, huh?”
“Sorry. Just wondering.”
“The U.S. Team is paying my way as a trainer. If anything needs to be massaged, wrapped, or triaged to the emergency room, I’m their guy.”
“How long have you been interested in medicine?” I cringed. Now I was interviewing him for a job.
“I wasn’t, at first. But I love snowboarding, and I like working with serious athletes. And getting to ride.”
I played with a straw. “You said you grew up riding?”
“I got serious about it when I was around twelve, training after school and on weekends all winter. My dad, brother, and I even built a wooden pipe in our backyard so we could train in the summer on skateboards. I had a shot at going pro, but at sixteen I blew out my knee. A couple surgeries later and I gave up that dream.” He shrugged, but I could see it still bothered him.
“I’m sorry. Sounds rough.”
He lifted a shoulder. “Want to know the worst part? I didn’t even hurt it snowboarding. I stepped in a hole while hunting, fell wrong, and tore pretty much everything I could tear in there. I can still ride, but no more tricks or big air. The landings are too hard.”
I kept waiting for something he said not to ring true. “How old is your brother?”
“Aidan? Fifteen.” He pulled out his phone, touched it a few times, and turned the screen toward me. Connor and what must be his parents, a dark-haired man and a blond woman, surrounded a teenaged boy with an impish smile, freckles, and bright red hair.
Showing me his family was a good sign, right? “He looks like trouble.”
He laughed. “He’s always in trouble, although not real trouble, you know? He snowboards, but he’s more interested in picking up girls on the slopes than really devoting himself to it.” He smiled at the picture for a second before putting his phone down. “He thinks he might like to study engineering. I told him he should design halfpipes and terrain parks for ski resorts.”
“Maybe you could help him land a job. Since you work at resorts and have connections and everything.”
He shifted in his seat and straightened his silverware. “Yeah, maybe.”
Why did he look uncomfortable about that?
“Do you have brothers or sisters?” he asked.
Sadness filtered through me, the usual reaction when anyone asked about my family. I’d always wondered if things would have been different if I’d had a sibling. Someone to share the load with the last few years.
“Only my mom and me.”
And I didn’t want to talk about her. Not until I was sure Connor could be trusted. Sitting across from me, an arm on the back of the empty chair next to him, he didn’t look like a double-crossing paramedic-slash-extortionist who happened to snowboard. But that might make him perfect for the job.
The waitress saved me from my thoughts by delivering our sandwiches and chips.
“What do you think of Veena’s chances tomorrow?” I asked before taking a bite. The BLT was pretty good; it had thick, salty bacon, a slice of ripe tomato, and a layer of tangy mayonnaise.
“She’s trained hard and looks damned good out there.”
“She said the double V wasn’t ready.”
He wiped his mouth with his napkin but missed a smear of dressing. “She could save it for the Games. From what I saw, she’s got a few other tricks up her sleeve for the competition tomorrow.”
As a trainer, was he supposed to watch her, was he just curious, or was there another motive?
“She seems pretty fixated on the double V though,” I said.
He nodded. “She’s no different than any other elite athlete. She wants to win, and she wants to win big. Landing the double V with steez will win her gold.”
That much I
