his arm but the pleasure was immediately replaced by clammy dread. This was Kenneth Knight, construction mogul. What the bell pepper would she say to him? She waved and indicated ten minutes-then willed herself to forget his presence and concentrate on her student. Thank goodness for all those years of skating, she thought. If it had taught her anything, it was how to focus on the task at hand.
When her lesson was finished, she skated toward Ken and decided to follow her earlier tactic: focus on the task at hand. She didn’t feel capable of making an intelligent decision about their relationship, so she would simply procrastinate. She would put her priorities in order, and first priority would be to prepare Patti for Easterns. It would buy her some time-and maybe give Ken a chance to straighten things out by himself.
“It’s the day after Thanksgiving. What are all these kids doing here?”
“They have the day off from school-this is a good chance to pick up some extra ice time. At two o’clock public session begins, and they’ll be done for the day.”
“And how about you? Are you done then, too?”
“Afraid not. I’m spending some time on off-ice conditioning with Patti and Alex and two of my Novice men. We have a small dance studio here with a springboard floor and mirrors. We’ll work on air jumps and do some choreography.”
“Air jumps?”
“Jumps from the floor. Sometimes it’s easier to correct rotation on a trampoline or from the floor.” Chris pointed to the food basket. “Let me guess. Turkey sandwiches?”
“For the next seven months, at least.”
They placed the basket on a bench in the lobby and sat on either side of it. Ken selected a sandwich and looked at it with interest. “There’s something purple in here.”
“Cranberries. Aunt Edna can cram a whole meal between two slices of bread. One time she gave me egg salad with cooked carrots and mashed potatoes.” Chris chose a packet of fresh vegetables and munched on a celery stick. “Do you remember when I explained to you about competitions? How the kids work themselves up the ladder toward Nationals?”
“Mmmm.”
Chris kept her voice low to control her confused emotions. She wanted to keep this conversation natural and friendly. “In a week and a half Bitsy and I will be going to Boston for Easterns. I’m going to be really busy between now and then.”
Ken looked up. He searched her face for some understanding of her statement. “Keep going.”
“That’s all. I’m just going to be busy.” She winced when her voice cracked on the word busy.
“I understand what you said. It’s the way your knuckles are turning white while you hang on to the food basket that has me confused. What’s going on?”
Oh crud, Chris thought, I’m really crummy at this. Good thing I never had any aspirations toward acting. She looked at him in dismay. “I’m sick,” she lied. “My head hurts.”
“Hangover. You’re not much of a drinker.”
Chris felt weak with relief at having succeeded with her fib. She averted her eyes and pawed through the basket. “What else is in here? I don’t think I can manage a turkey sandwich.”
“I suspected. I told Edna to pack a thermos of tea, and I think there’s a package of crackers in there, too.”
Chris found the thermos of tea and poured a cup out for herself. She focused her gaze on the steaming liquid. “I really will be busy for a couple weeks. There are several students qualified for Easterns. They’ll be busy needing extra attention.”
“How long will you have to be in Boston?”
“I’ll be there for seven days. Only three of those days are actual competition days for my kids…Thursday, Friday, and Saturday. At the beginning of the week they get practice time at the rink.” Chris nibbled at a cracker. “All ice surfaces aren’t the same, and skaters always need a little time to orient themselves in a new arena.”
“Is this open to the public? Are you going to invite me along?”
“Yes, it’s open to the public. And…I don’t know if I’m going to invite you along.” She sipped at her tea and wondered why she felt so guilty about all this. He was the one who had lied. He was the impostor. Why did she feel like such a rat? “My schedule will be even worse than it is now”-her eyes met his defiantly-“and I make sure I set a good example when I travel with my students.”
“No naked men in your hotel room, huh?”
“Never.”
He helped himself to a sip of her tea. “How about your husband?”
“I don’t have a husband.”
“We could fix that.”
“Mmmmm.” She wondered about the legal problems involved in marrying a mythical man. If she married Ken Callahan would she also be married to Kenneth Knight? And if he had lied to her about his name and his job…what else had he lied to her about? Maybe Kenneth Knight had a wife. Maybe he had a whole pack of kids. She looked sidewise at Ken, feeling murderous inclinations.
He jumped away from her, instinctively raising a hand to his face.
The action took Chris by surprise. “Why’d you do that?”
Ken colored under his black beard. “I don’t know. I had the funniest sensation. I had this premonition of you breaking my nose.”
“Mmmmm.”
“That’s all you can say? Mmmm? Aren’t you going to assure me it’s ridiculous? Aren’t you going to tell me my body is safe in your hands?”
Chris narrowed her eyes. Another emotion was forming besides the hurt and confusion. It was anger. For the second time in her life she’d fallen victim to a scoundrel, and she was furious. “Of course it’s ridiculous,” she purred, thinking that breaking his nose would be small potatoes. Her retribution would be much more imaginative. More satisfying. More diabolical. She didn’t know why he’d perpetrated this charade, but he would pay. She lowered her lashes and let her eyes rake over his body. “It’s not your nose that interests me.”
He looked at her suspiciously. “You aren’t thinking of breaking anything else, are you?”
Chris slammed the lid of the wicker basket closed. “You’re cute when you worry. You get this little twitch at the corner of your mouth.”
Ken looked sidewise at her. “Are you mad at me for something?”
Mad? She couldn’t be any more angry. He’d violated her trust. He’d made a fool out of her. “No,” she snarled, “I’m not mad.”
“Maybe you just need to relax. There’s a nice motel about a mile down the road…”
Chris stood quickly and smoothed her sweater over her hips. “No,” she said firmly. “No sleazy motels. And besides I have a lesson.”
“I’m beginning to think the only way I’ll get any time with you is to take up ice skating.”
Chris buttoned the buttons on his jacket and handed him the lunch basket. “You couldn’t afford me,” she jibed. “Ice skating is expensive, and you’re an unemployed carpenter.” She waited for a reply, wondering if he would continue the lie.
“Just because I’m currently not working doesn’t mean I haven’t got any money.”
Chris raised her eyebrows. “Do you have money?”
“A little.”
“Care to elaborate on that?”
“Do you want a full financial disclosure?” His mouth tilted into a teasing grin that threatened to melt her skate blades.
“Maybe.”
“I’ll have my lawyer prepare something.”
Damn! Now he didn’t even have the decency to lie to her. He was going to continue this whopper on innuendo and flip remarks. “We can discuss this at dinner.”
“Okay.” He dropped a friendly kiss on the top of her head-and left.
Bitsy slung her arm around Chris’ shoulders.
“Everything all right?”
