The Thomas Flair - E.J. Russell Page 0,75

is the first step toward acceptance.” Sol shrugged. “Our own shame gives the haters more ammunition. Maybe it’s time to disarm them.”

“All right. If you’re sure.”

“I am.”

Tony took a steadying breath. “Our phones are probably blowing up as we speak. I suspect we won’t even have to wait to get an interview spot with Quinn.”

And Tony was perfectly right. Before Sol got out of the shower, they had a live spot booked with Quinn. Tony kissed Sol on the way to his own shower, in full view of the other guys who mostly just ignored them. “We’re meeting Quinn at the main press center right after breakfast.”

“Don’t you and Danny have training?”

Tony shook his head. “We postponed it. The final isn’t until 5:00 this evening, and Barry agreed that getting ahead of this story is more important.”

“Hey,” Danny called from the sofa where he was in the midst of a GTA throw-down with Jason, “should we wear our Team USA warmups?”

Tony raised his eyebrows, sharing a surprised glance with Sol. “What do you mean?”

“Ah, shit,” Danny muttered, as his on-screen car careened off a cliff. He stood up and propped his hands on his hips. “Well, you don’t think the team will let you face this alone, do you? We’re all going. Even if Quinn doesn’t ask us any questions, we’ll be there to have your backs.” He sauntered toward his bedroom, bopping Tony on the biceps on his way past. “That’s what being a team means.”

Tony glanced at Sol, who shrugged. “Why not?”

By the time they finished breakfast and met Quinn in the much busier broadcast center, they’d picked up more supporters—the entire USA women’s gymnastics team, the captain and a bunch of other players from the women’s soccer team, and several gymnasts from other countries, including Luiz, the Brazilian who’d hit on Sol in Rio.

Quinn studied their mob with her usual aplomb. “I see you’ve brought some friends with you, Tony.”

Tony glanced at their impromptu entourage. A couple of the soccer players had rainbow flags draped over their shoulders. “Yeah. Hope you don’t mind a crowd.”

“Not at all. Although the larger studio was already booked so I can’t offer you all chairs.”

“That’s okay,” one of the flag-draped players said, “we can stand.” She grinned. “In fact, we prefer to stand. Because we all stand together.”

Quinn returned her grin and gestured for the group to take a position in front of the screen displaying the Olympic rings. “Perfect.” She waited until Tony and Sol were mic’d and seated in the tall stools in the center of the studio, took her own place, then nodded to her assistant who counted down to air. “Good morning, Ringsiders. Welcome back to the Olympics, where yet another brouhaha has arisen today involving our friends from the US men’s gymnastics team, Tony Thomas and Sol Ashvili. Today, Tony’s coach—”

“Former coach,” Tony corrected.

Quinn smiled like a shark. “Well, doesn’t that make this even more interesting? Tony’s former coach, Andrei Nicolescu, appeared on In the Name of Sport and revealed some information that perhaps wasn’t his to share.”

Danny darted forward and stuck his head into the shot next to Tony. “No perhaps about it. Dude was out of line.” The camera followed him as he danced back to the other athletes and high-fived the soccer captain.

Quinn chuckled. “You probably recognized Isaiah Daniels from Team USA’s silver medal men’s gymnastics team. But Tony and Sol weren’t only accompanied by their teammates today. We’ve got the Olympic champion US women’s gymnastics team, including the two-time all-around gold medalist, most of Team USA’s women’s soccer team—”

“All of the team,” the flag-wearer said.

“The entire team, plus a few people in the colors of other countries.” She paused until the camera was back on her. “Tony, what do you think this says about the controversy?”

“Pardon me for correcting you, Quinn, but there’s no controversy here. Controversy implies disagreement, and I think we can all agree that Andrei inappropriately invaded Sol’s and my privacy. That I believe he chose to do this in retaliation over being fired as my coach is my own opinion, but hey—” He spread his hands and plastered a faux-innocent expression on his face. “—I’m entitled to that, right?”

The group gave a ragged cheer, but Quinn turned to Sol. “Do you have a comment, Sol?”

Tony tensed for an instant. It didn’t matter that Sol claimed he was ready for this, the spotlight wasn’t his natural habitat. But Sol smiled easily. “I have a number of comments. First…” Sol