A Shot at Gold Read online

  When she saw the woman in person in her law office, Madison knew she had been right. Elodie Booker had been running around the practice field that morning, and that meant something. It had to mean something, right?

  After the tour, they each had to meet with a physical therapist to review any injury history, the nutritionist to talk about diets, allergies, and what times a day they should eat, and the personal trainers in the gym to go over their regimens for the first week. By the time all of that was done, Madison was exhausted and wanted one of two things. She either needed to go shoot some arrows at a paper target, or she needed a drink. She chose the drink.

  An hour after getting changed into something a little nicer than her gym clothes, Madison had looked up where she wanted to go and had made the thirty-minute drive. Yes, she had a curfew, and it was a weeknight, but it was only seven. She had enough time to get back by ten. She didn’t plan on staying out late. She just needed to get out; get off campus and drown her sorrows in one drink or maybe two before she grabbed a water, waited a bit to make sure she wasn’t the slightest bit tipsy, and then, she would head back to the dorm. She hadn’t invited anyone. She hadn’t told them she was going out, either. She wasn’t here to make friends. She was here to be trained by the best in the world to become the best in the world; friendships could wait.

  She sat at the bar, showed her ID to the bartender when asked, and then waited for her rum and Coke. She didn’t care much for rum, but drinking this brought back good memories, and she needed those tonight. What she didn’t need was Elodie fucking Booker, who was leaning against the wall in the back of the bar and holding on to a pool cue, apparently waiting her turn at the table. Wait. What was Elodie Booker doing in a gay bar? Madison downed her drink in one gulp. She gave the bartender her credit card, ordered some water over ice, signed the receipt, took the glass, and walked over to the pool table just in time to watch Elodie sink the eight ball in the side pocket.

  “Archery translates to pool?” she asked.

  “Madison?” Elodie asked, looking up at her, surprised.

  “You remember me?” Madison lifted an eyebrow.

  Elodie looked over at a group of women standing against the wall, watching them.

  “You guys can play the next one without me,” she told them. Then, she looked at Madison and added, “Over there.” She pointed to a small table in the corner that was empty, save the bowl of peanuts sitting in the middle.

  “Fine,” Madison said, feeling the alcohol she’d only just downed already beginning to take effect. That was the problem. When you didn’t drink much, it hit you harder and faster. “Peanuts?” she asked as they sat at the table.

  “No, I’m good. What are you doing here? Are you following me?” Elodie asked her.

  “What? No. I’m not crazy,” she defended. “I came here on my own and saw you. What are you doing here?”

  “I live in this town. This is my local.”

  “Your local is a gay bar; and not a very good one at that,” Madison said, sliding an accusatory fingertip over the lacquered table and coming up with nothing but feeling the stickiness all the same.

  “You have a lot of experience with gay bars, do you?”

  “Some,” she replied. “You?”

  “A few,” Elodie stated.

  Madison just stared at her then. Elodie Booker was a beautiful woman; she had known that already. She had seen the pictures, watched videos of her tournaments, and even a few after-win interviews; but seeing her in person was something else altogether. Elodie had blonde hair that was mostly straight and against her shoulders. The heat and humidity of the night had likely turned it a little wavy, but that wasn’t a bad thing. Elodie’s eyes were blue; a light-blue that resembled a sky on a cloudless day. She had this cute little button-nose that Madison used to notice the woman scrunched up just before she released her arrow. Her strong cheekbones and jawline made her model material, but given that her stats showed she was only 5’5”, even if Elodie had chosen that as a career, she probably wouldn’t have walked many runways.

  “I just came here for a drink. I needed to get away from the dorm. I’m not used to living with five other people. My limit was one before all of this,” Madison said, changing the subject slightly.

  “There are at least five bars that I know of that are closer to campus than this one.”

  “I saw those. I read the Yelp reviews; not great.” Madison looked over at the bar. “And this one isn’t much better, but–”

  “Your kind of people?” Elodie asked, interrupting her thoughts.

  Madison turned back to her and said, “Something like that.”

  Elodie nodded toward her glass and asked, “Gin?”

  “Water,” she replied. “I had a rum and Coke when I got here.”

  “Rum girl, huh?”

  “Not really,” Madison said before she could think.

  “Then, why did you–”

  “Why aren’t you coaching?” Madison interrupted this time.

  “Madison…” the woman sighed out her name more than actually saying it. “You should get back to campus. If orientation is over, my guess is – you’re up at five tomorrow for your workout.”

  “It’s not exactly late.”

  “You do have a curfew.”

  “Yeah, why isn’t that in the brochure?” Madison asked, lifting the water glass to her lips. “I’m twenty-two years old. I’ll be twenty-three in a month. I don’t need a curfew.”

  “You know, most pro athletes have them; especially when they travel.”

  “Ten o’clock?” Madison asked.

  “I’ll let you in on a little secret. They’re not all that strict. If you come back at eleven, but you’re still up with everyone else, and you still perform, they don’t come down on you.”

  Madison nodded and said, “Well, thanks for that.” She placed her glass back down. “You don’t have a drink.”

  “I do.” Elodie pointed behind her. “It’s on the ledge behind the pool table.”

  “You can’t drink that anymore.”

  “Why not?”

  “You left it alone. Someone could have put something in it.”

  “Madison, this isn’t a frat party.” Elodie chuckled and leaned back in her chair. “I know everyone in this bar. No one is going to try to drug me, I promise. Maybe you’re just used to college boys.”

  “No.” Madison shook her head. “No college boys for me,” she added. “I’m just cautious.”

  Elodie squinted her eyes at her and said, “I should get back to my friends. Are you okay to get back to campus?”

  “Coach me,” Madison said, avoiding the question.

  “I can’t go–”

  “Just me. I don’t care about the rest of them. I came to this place because of you.”

  “Why?” Elodie laughed. “I’m a washed-up former–”

  “You’re the best archer in the world.”

  “Maybe I was.” The woman picked up a handful of peanuts from the bowl and tossed them into her mouth. “Not anymore.”

  Madison leaned over the table and said, “What if it was just me?”

  “I left archery, Madison. I became a lawyer. I have employees and–”

  “Coach me. I’ll leave the program. I don’t care about the program. I do. I don’t mean it like that. I mean, I only came to this place because I wanted you as my coach.”

  “I’ve never even been a coach. This was going to be my first coaching gig, and I’ve already messed it up.” She stood. “Look, I tried. I did. I tried to get back into it, but it’s not going to happen.”

  “Then, why did you run at the field this morning?”

  “So, you do know that was me?” Elodie looked up to the ceiling. “I run there, sometimes. It’s a good trail.”

  “Wrapped right around the place you’re, apparently, avoiding.” Madison stood up as well. “I have money. Well, my parents have money. I’m not asking for handouts. And I’m not asking for you to phone it
in, either. I want a real coach, and I want that coach to be you.”

  “I don’t need a job, and I don’t need your money. Go back to campus, Madison.”

  “Is it because of Rod Hanson?” Madison asked.

  Elodie’s light eyes went angry and dark in an instant. She took two steps toward Madison, moving into her space.

  “You don’t know anything about me, Madison Fletcher. I think it’s time you go.”

  Madison softened and said, “I didn’t mean anything by that. I lost someone, too, you know?” Then, she lowered her head and added, “This is important to me.”

  “Why?”

  “I have my reasons.” She looked up at Elodie. “I’m thinking about leaving the program either way.”

  It was Elodie’s turn to soften and say, “You shouldn’t. It’s the best place for you.”

  “I came here for you,” Madison replied, looking down at Elodie, given the two-inch or so difference in their heights. “It’s important.”

  Elodie bit her lower lip and said, “Come to my office tomorrow for your lunch break. We’ll talk.”

  Madison’s eyes lit up, and she said, “Really? You–”

  “I said we’ll talk, Madison.” Elodie took a few steps backward. “This isn’t the right place to do this. I’m not saying I’ll be your coach. I’m saying you need to go back to campus, and I need to get back to my friends who are not so subtly trying to set me up with the new lesbian in town.” She hooked a thumb toward the woman glaring at the two of them. “I can give you a few minutes tomorrow. That’s all I’ll commit to.”

  “That’s enough,” Madison replied, smiling.

  “Wipe that smile off your face.” Elodie laughed. “It’s a conversation.”

  “No, it’s a start.”

  CHAPTER 4

  “How did it go last night?” Nancy asked.

  “They told you their plan, didn’t they?” Elodie asked, sipping on her coffee from the chair in front of Nancy’s desk.

  “They asked me to make sure to put it on your calendar so you had no excuse to miss it, yes.”

  “I don’t like going on blind dates.”

  “I’m aware. But you don’t seem to like going out on dates, period, these days,” Nancy argued.

  “Don’t you think it’s time you guys take the hint?”

  “Last night was the first time you’d gone out in ages, El.”

  “Did you ever think there might be a reason for that? I’m best if left alone, Nance.”

  “That’s crap, and you know it.” Nancy laughed. “You close yourself off, but you don’t have to. What about the woman from last night?”

  “What about her?”

  “Were there any sparks?”

  “Only on the pool table. I’m pretty sure she scraped it with her cue about ten times and nearly started a fire.”

  Nancy laughed again and said, “Got it. So, no second date, then?”

  “Definitely no second date. I’m still trying hard not to even think about the first one.”

  “Well, you have a ten o’clock and an eleven today. You’re free the rest of the day after that.”

  “Can you put a lunch on my calendar for noon?” Elodie asked, standing up.

  “You’re going to lunch?”

  “No, it’s a lunch meeting.”

  “Why didn’t I know about it? Did Matt forget to put it on the shared calendar?”

  “No, I made the appointment myself last night.” Elodie finished her coffee.

  “You did? Who’s it with? Please don’t tell me you somehow turned the blind date into a client.”

  “Do you remember that girl who came in yesterday?”

  “The one who just stopped by?”

  “Yes. Her name is Madison Fletcher. The lunch meeting is with her.”

  “Call me crazy, but it didn’t seem like you wanted to talk to her yesterday. She only stayed for three minutes.”

  “It’s a long story. I told her I’d give her twenty minutes today. Can you put it on the calendar, and around twenty minutes after she gets here, grab me in the office for my next meeting?”

  “What meeting would that be?” Nancy asked, lifting an eyebrow at her.

  “Whatever one you make up.”

  ◆◆◆

  “We’ll get everything taken care of,” Elodie told her client as she ushered the woman out of her office. “Just give Nancy all the information.”

  “Thank you,” the woman said.

  Elodie sat her in the chair opposite Nancy’s desk. Then, she noticed Madison sitting in one of the two chairs near the front door that rarely, if ever, had occupants. She nodded to her to follow her into the office.

  “Do you need anything? Something to drink?” Elodie asked out of habit.

  “No, I’m okay,” Madison said.

  Elodie sat behind her desk, watching Madison sit down in one of two guest chairs.

  “I have a meeting after this, so…”

  “What’s it like?” Madison asked.

  “What’s what like?”

  “Life after archery. You have this whole career.”

  “Most people do, Madison. Archery isn’t exactly the NFL.”

  “I didn’t mean the money part. I meant the actual job part. Right now, I can only think of doing one thing with my life. Was it that way for you, too?”

  “It used to be,” Elodie answered honestly.

  “Not anymore?” Madison’s green eyes met her own.

  There was that something unusual again. Elodie couldn’t figure out what it was, but she had seen it last night at the bar, too. It was the only reason she’d given Madison twenty minutes today.

  “Not anymore, no,” she said.

  “I didn’t mean to bring up Rod Hanson last night. It was word vomit. I wanted to apologize.”

  “It’s okay. It’s been a while,” Elodie replied.

  It wasn’t okay. It had been a while, but it wasn’t okay. It still hurt. She hated thinking about Rod and hated not thinking about him at the same time. It shouldn’t still hurt this bad. She knew that. She also knew she hadn’t exactly done anything to try to make it hurt less outside of drinking a bottle of wine with dinner.

  “I still shouldn’t have said it.”

  “True.” She nodded.

  “I kind of have this bull-in-a-china-shop approach to my sport. It’s been that way since the beginning. I don’t know… Maybe I care too much. But I don’t apologize for it. I want what I want, and I go for it. I want you to be my coach, so I went for it. And I’m going for it again right now.”

  “Why me?” Elodie asked. “I won one gold medal. That’s it.”

  “You won seven world championships as an individual and three as part of the team and that gold medal. You hold just about every record known to man. You are the person every single one of us compares ourselves to. I’m talking about the men, too; not just the women.”

  “I left the sport for a reason, Madison.”

  Madison leaned forward in her chair, and Elodie could feel the pitch coming.

  “You still go to campus to run. When was the last time you went to shoot?”

  “Years.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I don’t do that anymore.”

  “And you don’t plan to ever again?”

  “No.”

  “Where’s your bow?” Madison asked her.

  “In my garage. Why?”

  Madison smirked and said, “You never plan to shoot, but you still have your bow. Do you still have your monogrammed arrows for events?”

  “I think so,” she lied. She knew exactly where they were. “But that doesn’t mean anything.”

  “Are they in some display case with your trophies so you can see them and think back to your glory days, or are they on some shelf so that whenever you feel like going out there and hitting a target, you can grab them and go?” Madison leaned back. “My guess is that they’re sitting on that shelf. You’ve probably pushed something in front of ev
erything so that you don’t have to see your gear, but it’s there, and you know it’s there. You know that if you wanted to, you could pick up your bow, make some adjustments, and hit the inner ten ring in one shot.”

  “Why does that matter?” Elodie asked.

  “Because something happened, and it was terrible, but you still want it.”

  Elodie’s heart was racing. Here was this young woman with these soulful and mysterious green eyes and a few freckles on her cheeks, telling her what she wanted; and she was right. It was the first time Elodie had admitted it to herself. Madison was right.

  “We don’t have a lot of time. I know your lunch breaks aren’t that long, and you have to drive back,” she said, changing the subject.

  “If you don’t want to go back to the academy, I understand. There’s a history there. I’m asking you to be my coach, Elodie. I’ll leave the program. It’s impressive, but it’s also constraining, and it’s not what I expected. It’s not what I want, and I go after what I want.”

  “I have a full-time job. I can’t–”

  “Answer this for me, then. Do you want to do it? That’s it. Just answer that for me. Do you want to coach me?”

  Elodie looked away from Madison’s eyes because they had this pull to them, and she couldn’t look into them right now.

  “Yes,” she said softly.

  Madison smiled, but it wasn’t cocky. It was warm.

  “Then, do it,” she said after a moment.

  “You have an entire staff around you twenty-four seven, Madison. I could only commit to a few hours a day, if that, and maybe more on the weekends.”

  “That’s all I need. That’s what I want,” she replied.

  “And you know I’ve never coached before.”