honing her message, molding her from a champion into an icon. But she didn’t. She stared at me, wordless, until I released her arm and she walked away, vaulted through the ropes, and immediately fell into a boxer shuffle. She and Aaden began circling each other, their eyes glowing in the spotlights of the ring. Neither of them noticed when I left.
I took a breath, bringing myself back through the clot of memory to the Grand Hotel lobby and Nora Trier’s quiet audience. The lion still rested in front of us, guarding the door.
“She pushed him hard. They trained day and night and she was determined that he was going to win, that no one could stop him. We argued about it frequently. I don’t know what happened between them in the end, if they fought or the pressure became too much for him.” I shook my head. “Wild speculations.”
“Logan wouldn’t talk to me and gradually I think she started to blame me. I hadn’t wanted Aaden as the next face of Strike and I’d made no secret of it. Afterward, it was my idea to keep his suicide and the suspicious money in his account quiet, out of respect for him and his family—yes—but also for how the publicity would impact the company. And …”
My voice went flat and hard. “I wanted to forget him. I still do. I’m not proud of everything I’ve done.” I looked Nora in the eye, owning my choices, the things I knew that made me less. “But I did it for Strike.”
Before she could say anything, the noise level in the lobby rose and another woman’s voice soared over the top of it.
“Sheee-ut. Look who it is.”
We both looked up to see a tall, corn-fed blonde with a shoulder span that seemed to fill the room striding across the marble tile. She was surrounded by an entourage of trainers, family, and hotel staff, but her wide-set eyes were fixed on me and her mouth cocked into a lopsided grin. Her hair bounced and flowed around her, as sleek and shining as a lion’s mane.
I stood up just as she caught me in a bone-crunching hug, and made the introductions.
“Nora Trier, meet Merritt Osborne.”
Nora’s expression seemed to click as she made the connection.
London 2012: Merritt had taken home the Olympic silver medal in Taekwondo. The same year Michael Phelps became the most decorated Olympian of all time and Usain Bolt was a human blur, Merritt had garnered more likes than any other single-word tweet on Twitter, with a picture of her being medaled and the caption, “Y’all!!!!!!!!!”
“Merritt’s competing in the pro welterweight bracket.”
“Honey,” Merritt’s Deep South drawl was a hearth you wanted to curl up next to, and at least a dozen strangers’ heads turned at the sound of it. She sidled up to Nora, dwarfing the accountant. “I owe this man. After I injured myself at the Rio qualifiers I thought I was out of martial arts for good. Then guess who shows up in Georgia like an early Valentine this February, telling me all about a kickboxing tournament in the great white North.”
“You’re from Atlanta?”
“Macon, originally, but I’ve lived in Atlanta for years now. You ever been?”
“Once.” Nora’s eyes flashed to mine before she picked up her briefcase. Then she excused herself, saying she had to find Logan.
I turned to Merritt, my lion in the tournament, and escorted her through the lobby. My mind, though, lingered with Nora Trier. I wanted to go with her, to follow her all the way back to Atlanta, before the money was gone, before Aaden had died, before all the things that happened to unmake a man.
NORA
AS SOON as she got into the skyway, Nora got a call from Mike, asking about their seats at the tournament and when she was coming home to get ready. She checked her watch. So much of the day was spent already and—after talking to Darryl Nolan and Gregg Abbott—she had more questions now than when the morning began.
“Why don’t you meet me at the office and we’ll go from there?”
He sighed and Nora knew she hadn’t given the right answer.
“Okay.” His tone was clipped. “Henry asked if you’re coming to the Fourth of July parade with us this year.”
“I have to work. This client … it’s an emergency.”
Mike didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. As Nora crossed over 2nd Avenue, something on the street below caught her eye. She stopped short, making the person behind her exclaim. Nora