“Come on, Athena,” Laura said into her ear, “it’s all right for you to smile now. You’ve earned it. You know that, right? This wasn’t luck, girl. You earned your place in this match.”
Athena looked back at her longtime friend and saw tears in her eyes. Seeing that excitement softened her awe a little, which was good. Laura was right. Athena had earned this. She had been working hard for all of her life, working for goals plenty of people had told her she would never be able to reach. She had every right to be excited about finally reaching that next rung in the ladder. Never mind the fact that her mom had spent most of her childhood telling her that a girl like her was reaching too high with the grand dreams she’d had back then. For the moment, she was just as good as the best rider out there. She was just as good as Nate Grant.
Except, what if she wasn't? Beneath her joy, which felt almost raw it was so damned real, was the same nagging doubt she'd always had. On a good day, Athena had a halfway decent idea of her worth. Most of the time, though, there was a little voice in the back of her head reminding her that she might not actually be able to do it. When push came to shove, when she finally got her shot, she might not be able to measure up.
“Go on, honey!” Nancy’s voice rang out again, “What are you standing around here with us for? You need to get up there on that stage!”
“No, Mom, come on. That’s for the big time people,” Athena objected, embarrassment flushing her cheeks bright pink.
“Which you are now,” Laura reminded her, putting her hand on the small of Athena’s back and giving her a gentle shove, “you know I don’t often agree with your mother, dear, but on this one, we present a united front. That stage, those reporters, they aren’t just here for Nate Grant. As of today, they’re here for you, too.”
Although her nerves were far from settled, Laura's words were enough to get Athena moving. She was no shrinking violet. She had never been, and she didn't intend to become one now. The competitive streak ran deep inside of her, far too deep for a little uncertainty to get in her way. If Nate could stand there smiling for the cameras and answering the questions of eager reporters, then so could she. She didn't know the first thing about giving an interview, but she was damned sure going to fake it until she made it.
“Mr. Grant!” a bubbly blonde woman with blinding white teeth was in the middle of asking eagerly when Athena finally reached the stage, “Tell me, how does it feel to be back home for this match? My sources say that returning to your birthplace isn’t high on your list of your favorite things to do.”
“Sources?” Nate asked with a laugh, feigning shock and making the little gaggle of reporters laugh, “You’ve got sources? Shoot, you should have told me that at the start! If I’d’ve known that you already knew everything about me, I would have sent a cardboard cutout in my place!”
“Come, now,” a walrus-sized, behemoth of a man pushed, “you aren’t going to get off that easily. How do you feel about going up against somebody from your very own hometown? Was that something you’d entertained the possibility of before you made your way here?”
“Well, now, that’s a good question, Mr. Hastings,” Nate answered smoothly, “I can’t say that I did. With the pool including people from five different towns across the state, I didn’t really consider going up against one of my own. Truth be told, I didn’t realize there was anyone active on the circuit around here anymore. I just figured they’d all taken a look at me and decided to hang up their spurs. You know, find something else they might be able to be the best at.”
“Ugh,” Athena muttered to herself, “gross.”
She had half a mind to march up to Nate, take him by the ear, and tell him not to be such an ass. She didn’t care if he was surrounded by a knot of reporters and photographers. That kind of arrogance deserved a good boxing, whether or not his joking statement was entirely genuine.
Instead of physical retaliation, Athena settled for marching up onto the stage and inserting herself into the conversation. Truth be told, she was a little surprised that nobody had come to retrieve her already. She had a feeling that her and Nate being pitted against each other was the kind of story these local reporters dreamed about. So far, though, only a handful of press people had stopped to take her picture or ask her a quick question or two.
“No way I’m handing you all of the glory for this,” she said to herself, shoving her hands in her pockets and marching up onto the stage. She walked purposefully across the platform and planted her feet firmly beside Nate, who was still busy regaling his audience with stories delivered with his well-known charm. She cleared her throat and took a step closer to him, waiting for him to look at her and maybe even bring her right into the conversation. Instead, he glanced at her in a way that made her feel like he was looking right through her and then went right back to his talking.
So this was how things were going to be between them, then. Earlier in the day, the two of them had been playing flag football and acting like teenagers when they touched. Now, only a little while later, he was acting like she was lucky to even be breathing the same air as him. Although she couldn't for the life of her figure out why, Athena almost got the impression that he was angry at her for being the feeder competition winner. It didn't make any sense. The only reason she could imagine for the change was that he had a problem with his competitor being a woman. She hadn't known Nate for a long time now, but she liked to think he was better than that kind of sexism.
"And what about you, sugar?" the large reporter, one she now recognized as a man associated with a channel dedicated to the rodeo, sent in her direction.
She jumped, startled. She was surprised to be addressed by the man in the first place, but it was more than that. It was the use of the word "sugar" in place of her name. Like she was only there to play dress up, while Nate was the real deal. She wanted to be good and pissed off, only she supposed she owed the man. Being talked down to that way turned out to be what she needed to remember who and what she was. She was no hanger-on, no little kid hoping for the scraps doled out to her by a celebrity. She rolled her shoulders, straightening her back and lifting her chin. She and Nate were on equal footing now. They were officially competitors. With this thought planted firmly in the front of her mind, she smiled sweetly and linked her arm through Nate's.
“Well, I don’t know,” she answered sweetly, “depends on what you mean.”
“I’m curious if you could give us some insight into how you're feeling right about now? Must be a bit of a head-turner, standing up here next to such a well-known name on the circuit.”
“Who, Nate?” she laughed, noting the way he stiffened and paying it no mind.
“Sure, Mr. Nate Grant. Surely you must know—”
“What a big deal he is? If that’s where you’re going with this, then I should probably let you know that the two of us go way back,” Nate interrupted.
“Do you now?” the reporter asked, clearly surprised. His fellow reporters began whispering amongst themselves excitedly, as if this was the most revolutionary thing they had ever heard. It was something in Nate’s tone, in the way he said it. Everyone knew they had grown up in the same town. That was no kind of news at all. But the way Nate made it sound now, it was as if there was a whole other kind of history between them. The kind that wound up on the cover of entertainment magazines.
“We do,” Nate agreed, shooting Athena a sideways glance as he spoke. It was only the smallest gesture and Athena doubted very much that anyone else noticed it, but she sure did. It was the kind of look that made it plain that he didn’t enjoy being surprised; not by anything and certainly not by the way she was taking over this interview. Unfortunately for him, Athena didn’t intend to be any less surprising in the foreseeable future.
“We’ve known each other since we were little kids,” Athena confirmed, “you guys all know that. Although it’s been quite some time since we’ve seen each other. We were always plenty competitive with each other, only he went aw
ay before we could really put things to the test.”
“Is that so, Mr. Grant?” the fat reporter asked, practically eating out of the palm of Athena’s hand now.
“It is,” he answered, his jaw tightening ever so slightly.
“And now we’re going to get our chance to set the record straight, once and for all,” Athena finished, gripping Nate’s arm just a little tighter. “Don’t you just love it when things come full circle?”
“I must confess, I dearly do,” the reporter answered, his comrades nodding in agreement, “but what about you, Nate? Are you enjoying this outcome as much as…”
“Athena,” she reminded him, trying not to bristle at how easily her name was forgotten by these people, “Athena Moore.”
“Right. How do you feel about the serendipitous nature of the match-up?”
“It’s all in good fun, you know? That being said, I don’t intend to lose. Not now, and not anytime soon.”
This was met by a rousing round of cheers from the press people and a chain of flashbulbs going off as if on cue. Athena turned to Nate and wrapped him in a hug that would surely grab the attention of anyone watching. She rose up onto the tips of her toes, cupped her hand, and put it flush against his ear.
“Guess what, Nate Grant? I don’t intend to lose anytime soon, either.”
5
“Nate, my boy! Glad to have you. What’s your poison?”
Nate offered Gus, the bartender, a half-hearted wave, then he requested a beer and settled himself on a barstool. He made sure to choose the one against the wall, furthest from the entrance. Despite his success, despite all of the fanfare, he didn't feel much like celebrating.
Truth be told, he thought the fanfare was part of the problem. There had been less of it than he had been expecting. Now that he was off the stage, away from the gaggle of reporters, he couldn't help thinking that there was less of an overflow of excitement for his sake than he had been expecting. He was used to being hounded after things like these, borderline stalked by both reporters and fans who couldn't get enough, and that wasn't happening for him now.
“Stupid, man,” he whispered to himself, “you’re being stupid.”
“What’s that, Nate?” Gus asked with a wry smile, setting a beer down on the counter and looking at Nate with amusement. Nate shrugged. He wasn’t feeling a lot like having a conversation, especially not with someone who saw through people’s bullshit for a living. Gus wasn’t the kind of man to take no for an answer, though, and Nate knew it. What he didn’t know was the answer to what was really bothering him.
“Nothing, Gus. Nothing at all. Just giving myself a little talking to.”
“Anything to eat while you do it?” Gus asked, that damned smile still playing at the corners of his mouth.
“I wouldn’t say no to a plate of nachos,” Nate answered, hunching over his beer.
"And you certainly do sound excited about it too," Gus laughed. He laughed hard this time, slapping his knee like it was the best joke he'd ever heard. Part of Nate was annoyed by it, but Gus had one of those infectious laughs that was hard to resist, and Nate couldn't help but smile. Gus stopped laughing when he saw it, pulling a towel out from beneath the bar and going to work on a mess that was best described as a losing battle.
“There you go, Nate. That’s better. That smile is what I like to see. You’re the conquering hero, my boy. Did you forget that?”
“Nah, I didn’t forget anything, Gus. It’s just a little weird being back here, that’s—"
His words were cut off neatly by the sound of many voices coming from just outside of the bar. Nate sat up straighter, already beginning to feel like the world’s biggest fool. The town’s people, his town's people, were coming to see him after all. Apparently, they just hadn't gotten there fast enough to suit his tastes. And had he really become so reliant on the praise of others? He didn't like to think so, but it was looking a lot that way, and he felt hot shame wash over him at the very notion. It was something worth exploring, maybe, at a later date. For now, though, it was time to play things up for the fans. Fortunately for Nate, that was something he never had any trouble doing at all.
"Gus, my man! You see this pretty lady here?" Norman, one of the town's more frequent bar guests, hollered into the room. He stood squarely in the open doorway and Nate had to squint through the intruding rays of the sun, but there was no doubt as to who he had standing beside him. It was Athena, looking slightly uncomfortable with a flushed face and a sheepish grin.
“I do indeed,” Gus called back loudly.
Behind Norman and Athena, Nate saw a crowd of people that looked to be steadily growing. It was no wonder the bar had looked so damned empty when he walked in. Nearly half the town had been following Athena around.
“Well, I want you to pour her a round of the finest thing you’ve got back there. None of the crap you serve the rest of us, I mean the really fine stuff. And I want you to keep them coming, you hear me? Keep ‘em coming for as long as she wants them.”
Athena gave a little curtsy and laughed as she, Norman, and the whole lot of them came streaming into the bar. Nate watched their progress for a moment, slack-jawed and uncomprehending, before turning back to his beer.
For a moment, he couldn’t identify the feeling rising up inside of him. When he realized what it was, his entire body felt flushed.
It was anger. He was angry at Athena, angry at the way this thing was playing out. There was the uncomfortable notion that it was because she was getting the attention he was so accustomed to having to himself. He didn't think of himself as a particularly jealous guy, and he didn't like to consider that he might really be that shallow.
Upon further inspection, he was pretty sure it was more than just jealousy. It was the lie, or rather the lie by omission. She hadn’t even mentioned that she’d been part of the competition, so he’d been totally blindsided by the announcement of her name. He didn't like being caught off guard, and that was most certainly what had gone on here. And it was because of her, because of a decision she had made. The two of them had spent enough time around each other since he'd been back for her to have told him something, given him some kind of a heads-up. Instead, she had left him in the dark, and it wasn't exactly sitting well with him.
“Hey, where are you going, sugar? We want to drink with the champion!” Gus’s voice rang out over the abrupt cacophony of noise, causing Nate to look away from his beer despite his intention to stay out of their celebration. At the moment, he wasn’t in a celebratory mood. What he saw was Athena, headed purposefully in his direction.
“Wonderful,” he muttered under his breath, taking a big swig from his beer and wiping the foam off with the back of his hand. As he set the glass down, Athena slid onto the stool next to his.
“Hey,” she said, leaning over and nudging him in the shoulder. Gus brought her a tall glass of beer and nodded at them both, giving Nate a warning look before walking away again.
“Hey yourself,” he answered, looking steadily forward.
"You disappeared kind of quickly, Nate. Is everything okay?" she asked. There was a tremble in her voice he hadn't heard before, and it was enough to break his resolve. He glanced in her direction and saw that she was tapping her foot nervously. It was almost enough to melt away his anger. Almost, but not quite.
“Sure, okay. I guess you could say that.”
“So,” she answered slowly, the first hint of annoyance entering her own voice, “clearly not. What is it, Nate? What’s eating you?”
“You could have told me, that’s all. You didn’t have to leave me to be shocked right along with the rest of the community. Seems like a pretty simple courtesy to extend, but hey, that’s just me.”
“Are you serious right now?” she asked incredulously, “You’re actually mad at me?”
"I'm not thrilled with the situation, no. Can't say that I am," Nate answered, keeping his voice clipped and to the point. He didn't like the idea of losing control of hi
s temper with her, and he had a feeling that he might if he wasn't careful.
"That's completely unreasonable; you know that right?" she said quickly. It didn't take a genius to see that she was well on her way to pissed off now too. For the life of him, he couldn't understand why though.
“No, actually, I don’t. I don’t think it’s so much to ask for you to keep me in the loop. Seems like the least you could do, seeing as we’re friends and all.”
“Okay, hold on just one minute. For starters, I would appreciate it if you would look at me if you’re going to accuse me of things. Speaking of ‘the least a person can do.’”
Her tone surprised Nate into doing exactly what she was asking for. What he saw was enough to make him feel like he’d been hit by a ton of bricks. In her anger, and she was obviously pissed, she was undeniably beautiful. Her green eyes were flashing fire, her cheeks flushed and full of life. It was almost enough to make him want to back down completely.
"All right, that's better. Now, I'm going to tell you something I think you already know, but it seems to me that you've forgotten."
“What’s that?” he asked, doing his best not to stare.
“I wasn’t allowed to tell you about being in that competition. I wasn’t allowed to discuss it with anyone, not even my family. It was one of the stipulations of signing up. The sponsor set that up, I guess to make things more interesting. You know that, don’t you?”
He did. In his surprise and subsequent righteous anger, he had forgotten, but he remembered the rule now perfectly. He’d even been a fan of it. There was a certain level of exciting showmanship in the idea of keeping everything so secretive. It had never occurred to him that it might come back to bite him in the ass.
“Fine, that’s true, but you could have made an exception,” he insisted, bound and determined to stick to his point whether or not it made a whole lot of sense.
“Are you kidding me?” she asked, rolling her eyes and shaking her head in disgust, “Why on earth would I do that? Why would I endanger my career that way?”
The Cowboy’s Rodeo Rival: Grant Brothers Series Book Three Page 4