player, for a wacko.” He said it with a smile, but then he broke off for a moment, deep in thought. “Daniel…” I could see that he was tempted to tell me his deep, dark secret—why he had given up the game he loved thirty years ago. I didn’t want to pry, but I was very curious to hear the real reason. Then he flinched and I saw him pull back, as if he had realized it would be too painful to talk about. “I’m going to take a shower,” he said. “Dr. Sam was stuck in what looked like a marathon game, so Randolph moved our dinner reservation back. We have about an hour to kill. You might want to check out the pool.”
“Isn’t it a little late for a swim?” I asked.
“Apparently not,” Dad said. “A friend of yours called a few minutes ago. She said she was heading down to the pool. She invited you to join her.”
“Liu?” I asked, maybe a little too eagerly.
“No,” Dad said, “I believe her name was Britney.” He shot me a grin. “For a young man who claims to have trouble with girls, you seem to have your share of female admirers.”
“You got that wrong,” I told him. “Britney is Brad Kinney’s girlfriend. She also happens to be the prettiest girl in our school. Believe me, the only thing she feels for me is pity.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure of that, kiddo,” Dad said, heading into the bathroom. He turned on the shower, but his voice floated out above the sound of running water: “You ignore the insight of Grandmaster Pratzer at your peril.”
12
The Palace Royale pool was located next to the hotel gym, on the third floor. I pushed through the doors, wearing my bathing suit and a T-shirt, and saw that the pool was almost deserted. A family was in the shallow end—the parents playing with their two tots, who were equipped with balloonlike flotation devices on arms and legs. In the deep end, a shark swam back and forth from one side to the other, knifing through the water so quickly it left a boiling silvery wake.
Of course it wasn’t really a shark. It was the top swimmer at the Loon Lake Academy, Brad Kinney, getting his laps in before dinner. Perched on a lounge chair on the deep side of the pool, wearing a teensy-weensy purple bikini and watching him swim, was Britney. She was holding a stopwatch, and her eyes never left Brad as he did a flip turn and set off at turbo speed for the other side.
I walked over to her and tried not to stare. I’m pretty sure no one has ever looked that good in a purple bikini in the history of the world. “Hey, Britney.”
Her eyes left the swimming champion and focused on me. “Hi, Daniel. How did your first game go?”
“I lost,” I told her. “But it doesn’t matter. The rest of the team will pick up the slack.”
“You’ll win the next one,” she said. And then she added, “Your dad sounds nice. Thanks for coming down. When Brad swims his laps I have no one to talk to.”
In the water beneath us, Brad flashed by and was gone. “How many does he do?” I asked.
“A hundred,” she said. “And he never slows down. Isn’t that amazing?”
“Remarkable,” I agreed. “So what are you doing in Manhattan on a Friday night?”
“We were going to come tomorrow, but my mom got invited to some kind of charity ball this evening. I have to go with her, so I won’t be able to come to the steak house. But we can all go out to dinner tomorrow.”
“Sounds like a plan,” I said. “Well, maybe I should jump in the shallow end and move my arms a little and pretend I can swim.”
She laughed. “Come on. I’m sure you can swim just fine.”
“Not like that,” I said, as Brad motored by.
“No one swims like that,” Britney responded softly.
“I’m off to do my dog paddle. Catch you later,” I told her. “Have a ball at the charity ball. Looking forward to meeting your mom.”
“Thanks. She’s eager to hang out with the team—” Britney broke off, and I was surprised to see tension in her face. “I don’t
“Isn’t it a little late for a swim?” I asked.
“Apparently not,” Dad said. “A friend of yours called a few minutes ago. She said she was heading down to the pool. She invited you to join her.”
“Liu?” I asked, maybe a little too eagerly.
“No,” Dad said, “I believe her name was Britney.” He shot me a grin. “For a young man who claims to have trouble with girls, you seem to have your share of female admirers.”
“You got that wrong,” I told him. “Britney is Brad Kinney’s girlfriend. She also happens to be the prettiest girl in our school. Believe me, the only thing she feels for me is pity.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure of that, kiddo,” Dad said, heading into the bathroom. He turned on the shower, but his voice floated out above the sound of running water: “You ignore the insight of Grandmaster Pratzer at your peril.”
12
The Palace Royale pool was located next to the hotel gym, on the third floor. I pushed through the doors, wearing my bathing suit and a T-shirt, and saw that the pool was almost deserted. A family was in the shallow end—the parents playing with their two tots, who were equipped with balloonlike flotation devices on arms and legs. In the deep end, a shark swam back and forth from one side to the other, knifing through the water so quickly it left a boiling silvery wake.
Of course it wasn’t really a shark. It was the top swimmer at the Loon Lake Academy, Brad Kinney, getting his laps in before dinner. Perched on a lounge chair on the deep side of the pool, wearing a teensy-weensy purple bikini and watching him swim, was Britney. She was holding a stopwatch, and her eyes never left Brad as he did a flip turn and set off at turbo speed for the other side.
I walked over to her and tried not to stare. I’m pretty sure no one has ever looked that good in a purple bikini in the history of the world. “Hey, Britney.”
Her eyes left the swimming champion and focused on me. “Hi, Daniel. How did your first game go?”
“I lost,” I told her. “But it doesn’t matter. The rest of the team will pick up the slack.”
“You’ll win the next one,” she said. And then she added, “Your dad sounds nice. Thanks for coming down. When Brad swims his laps I have no one to talk to.”
In the water beneath us, Brad flashed by and was gone. “How many does he do?” I asked.
“A hundred,” she said. “And he never slows down. Isn’t that amazing?”
“Remarkable,” I agreed. “So what are you doing in Manhattan on a Friday night?”
“We were going to come tomorrow, but my mom got invited to some kind of charity ball this evening. I have to go with her, so I won’t be able to come to the steak house. But we can all go out to dinner tomorrow.”
“Sounds like a plan,” I said. “Well, maybe I should jump in the shallow end and move my arms a little and pretend I can swim.”
She laughed. “Come on. I’m sure you can swim just fine.”
“Not like that,” I said, as Brad motored by.
“No one swims like that,” Britney responded softly.
“I’m off to do my dog paddle. Catch you later,” I told her. “Have a ball at the charity ball. Looking forward to meeting your mom.”
“Thanks. She’s eager to hang out with the team—” Britney broke off, and I was surprised to see tension in her face. “I don’t
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