Handling Things (working title) by CE Dalton

[Reviews - 0]
Printer

Chapter or Story
Table of Contents
- Text Size +

Chapter 6

Beth opened her apartment door, staring at her adopted father. She let him in. "What's up?"

"The director is wondering if you taking the subsidized apartment means you never take time off."

"Is he still in his mood where he's scowling that I still compete?"

"He is," Major Bill said, looking around. He was a bit tough on her but he was like that and she had accepted his limits for the most part; though she had begged for some later curfews since he had started her out at nine at night. He looked at her again. "You could live in a regular apartment."

"Not if I want to eat and pay dues," she said dryly. She flopped down in her chair, staring up at him. "Apartments locally are at least fifteen hundred for a hole, Bill."

"I know. I pointed that out. He huffed." He sat down. "He's not sure if he's comfortable with you competing."

"I do pay dues."

"I pointed that out as well. He grimaced and looked up that fact since he thought it was included as one of the perks."

"Gym time yes, actual training time, no," she said.

"That's what I told him, and that we have a few others that are still in real training but they don't work with anyone in their field."

"Neither do I. Cecily and I train against each other but we're both due paying."

"I'll work on him." She smiled. "How is your training going? I haven't heard you complaining about the uniform getting tight again."

"I finally quit growing," she quipped with a smile.

"That's a good thing." He looked her over. "We need to find you a boyfriend."

"Well, yeah," she agreed, curling up some. "But I'm not sure where I'd fit one. Not like I can stuff them in the minuscule closet."

Bill shook his head, rolling his eyes while looking up. "How about they sleep in your bed instead of your closet, Beth?"

"I had plans of it but there's not many guys who want to date people who do hardcore training stuff. I've flirted with a few of the trainers but they're not my type. They're very...loose."

"I've noticed. It's a problem a lot of athletes have." He stared at her. "What about when you do graduate?"

"I'm only twenty hours into the hundred and fifty I need for the full degree plan I'd need to be a senior handler." He winced. "By the end of summer, I'll be at forty-seven because I can take a few extra online then. I've already registered." She reached over to grab her laptop, handing it to him once she had that open.

He nodded. "Not a bad idea and the extra classes are the pointless mandatories." He put it onto the table and shifted to look at her better. "What about the boys on campus?"

"I have classes with a few athletes. They're leeches who like to party. They don't understand about non-contact sports," she finished blandly, making him smile. "I flirted with one but they didn't know what fencing was outside of the stuff you put around your yard. When I explained it, they decided that wasn't really a sport even though it's in the olympics. They think the same thing about ice skating and all those non-football things." He shook his head. "They're not interested in anything else. They hooked up with wanna be cheerleaders."

Bill nodded. "Girls like that get guys who play football. You're meant for better ones."

"Hey, find me one," she said dryly.

"I've looked. Even among the other trainers I know. The only one I'd think you'd get along with is almost sixty."

"I'm not into that," she said.

"I know." He smirked a tiny bit. "Are you ready for nationals?"

"Yes. I was also helping Burt train for his too. He and Cecily were both stressing. They'll do fine. I don't see either of them moving up very far in the ranks this year. The guys have the same politics problem we have in women's."

He nodded. "That makes sense. We all wish there was less politics in sports." She nodded quickly, smiling a tiny bit. "Are you moving up?"

"Yes. I've been holding back some because I realized about the politics and it was my first year in the adult class. This time I'm being ruthless. That's the only way they'll remember me when there's the retirement opening."

He nodded. "They could both retire."

"That'd be nice." He smiled. "It would."

"It would. They've been hogging it for nearly a decade." He shifted to cross his feet. "I noticed your schedule got changed."

She waved a hand in the air. "I *so* had a fit on her for that. Including that she had no right to change my schedule without my permission. She was complaining about a wedding and I pointed out that she had days off too and none of her people came in on the weekends anyway. She huffed off to the director, who agreed that I was right. I had filed first and she had no right to change my schedule. I changed it back and posted it in the system while he watched. She's still trying to snub me."

"I had a talk with her highness earlier. The wedding's only a day long and I pointed out the same issue with her not being here on weekends. She's still huffy because she's washed up and shouldn't even be a trainer."

"I'm not going to comment on her lack of skills, lack of gym time, and lack of understanding her athletes."

He smiled. "Not snarky at all," he quipped back. She smiled. "What about the ESPY awards?"

"I'm not going," she said. "There's no reason for me to go. None of mine are nominated. I'm not nominated," she said dryly. He smiled. "If I'm wanted by someone to go with them I'll consider it but I might need a new dress."

He nodded. "Good point." He stood up and kissed her on the top of the head. "Sleep. You look tired." He left. She got up to relock the door then went to lay down. Her tv was in her bedroom so she could watch something. She was tired. In the next three days she had training time and then going to Illinois for the next hearing with her soccer player. She stared at the tv, trying to find something else. "Cooking shows and romantic comedies. Yay," she complained, turning it off so she could rest. She could use some extra sleep.

***

Beth was out at the grocery store, trying to find something she wanted to eat. With it being late fall, there were almost no fresh fruit or vegetables. She went to the frozen ones instead. At least there were frozen berries. She grabbed a few frozen waffles and coffee creamer to mix for a good topping. Then she grabbed some juice and checked out.

"Aren't you supposed to eat better since you're still *training*?" a female voice sneered.

Beth looked back at her. "I do eat better than this usually. I wanted waffles tonight since I've got to fly out in a few days." She paid for her groceries and took the reusable bags with a smile for the cashier. "Have a good day, Bera." The cashier smiled back. Beth strolled back to the center. She was off today and no one expected to see her doing anything unless there was an emergency. She walked in with a nod to the guards, running her pass. They smiled at her and one held the elevator for her. "Thank you, Chuck."

She got on and went up to her apartment, finding a note taped to the door. She opened it and carried things in then came back to get the note. The 'die, bitch' part of the note was a cartoon. "How very mature," she said, putting it onto the table. She called her father's cellphone. "It's me," she chirped. "I'm doing frozen waffles for dinner if you wanted to join me and pick up the hate note I just found on my door." She listened.

"Grocery shopping. What's going on?" She frowned. "Great," she muttered. "I'll go to the head office and bring it myself. See you there." She hung up and finished putting things up then locked her door before heading up to the office. She nodded at the assistant who pointed at the office. She walked in without knocking, handing over the folded note. "Found it on my door after getting groceries. I thought we were more mature."

The director looked at it then at her. "Any idea?"

"Marjorie was sneering at the store about my diet." She shrugged. "It's a bad statement for the two young trainee handlers to see but I think the girls are both more mature than that group." She looked at the man in the visitor's chair. "Antonio Dala." She shook his hand. "I thought you had retired."

"I'm bored," he said with a smirk. "I'm contemplating buying the center."

She stared at him. "Why would you ruin the careers of others?" she asked. "The attention that follows you would ruin a lot of careers here, and that's not how a real athlete works." The director choked. She smiled. "For that matter, even if you did buy the center, a lot of us would leave and start our own."

Mr. Dala, who was a dark skinned, long haired cover model looking man, laughed. "I like you. I've heard about you. Major Bill took you in when your aunt wanted you to make her money."

"She wanted to be an aunt-ager or a pseudo-momager. I wasn't into that and Major Bill was very good to me. He's still very good at being a father." She stared at him, crossing her arms over her chest. "Why are you really here since your stated reason isn't practical? Your ex-wife would never allow that much money out of your account without complaining to your company and trying to shut it down again."

"Hilda is all for me getting back into sports," he said, staring at her. "Me buying the center isn't a bad idea. Why do you think I'd ruin careers?"

"Because you'd bring the wrong attention and a lot of ours aren't in sports that get coverage in the press. Even with two former olympians here, they don't get that sort of attention." She stared him down. "All you'd do is drive them nuts with the attention problems."

He stood up, staring at her. "It could bring good notice to their sports."

"Or it could drive them nuts and make them go practice in other places," she said. "No one can practice with the press on their heels."

He nodded. "That's a good point," he said. "What if I kept down the press?" She snorted, starting to laugh. "I can do that. They don't know I'm here."

"When I came in there were two news vans up the street," she said dryly. He sat down with a grimace. "If you want to practice here, we'd welcome an athlete of your skill. Two of mine are shooters, one's an ice skater, and one's a female soccer team." He grinned. "Who don't flirt with anyone. They're serious."

"I get that," he said. "You could take me on."

"I'm not a senior handler. I know nothing about your sport."

"You can learn."

"Sure, I can do that between my college courses and my own training," she said dryly. He sat up straighter. She smiled. "I'll keep fencing until I graduate then decide." She looked at the director, who rolled his eyes and shook his head. Then she smiled at him again. "I still know nothing about your diving. I picked up enough ice skating by reading, talking to Celia, and watching Major Bill handling his two. I don't know even the first thing about the dives, the scoring, the regulations, or anything like it. There's a few handlers who do handle divers and swimmers. I'd recommend Miranda. She's a bit flirty but not with her athletes."

He stared at her. "I also do triathalons in my spare time."

She quirked up an eyebrow. "Going to change over officially?"

"I don't think I can do both at the same time."

"Probably not," she agreed. "We have facilities to help you train but I'm not the handler for you, Mr. Dala. I wish you good luck and good training." She bowed slightly and looked at the director. "Let me get back to my day off." She smiled. "By your leave?"

"I want her," Antonio said.

The director looked at her. "I could move Celia from your group."

"Celia and I get along very well," she said firmly. "I can actually help her when her coach isn't there. She doesn't cause me a lot of work. Before you say it, the soccer team is well integrated with me. Not a lot of handlers would be there for Alba when she needs someone to help her with the trial."

"I only plan on going one day a week right now, but in two weeks I have time to start intense training."

"Which is right when I'm due at Nationals," she said bluntly, staring at him. He gaped. "I'm actually going this year because the politics might be easing since we've got one confirmed retirement coming up after the next olympics."

"You're that good?" he asked.

"I'm rated fifth in the country," she said with a smile. "I work hard for that."

"Good. That means I made a good choice. I tend to slack off if someone doesn't ride my ass."

She stared at him for a moment. "No matter how many bimbos you've had in the press, I'm not that sort of trainer," she said bluntly but dryly. He gaped. She stared at him. "I may *need* a boyfriend to get the UAE off my butt, but not that much." He started to laugh. She huffed but looked at the director. "I don't have the time to take him on unless I give up on the college classes I need to continue to keep working here. Even if I knew anything about diving, I don't have the time, sir. I'm sorry."

He stared at her. "I can move Al and Richard."

"No, you can't," she said. "I like them. They're friends. I work well with them and I trust them in case something happens, like me being kidnaped from the facility again. I'm pretty sure if Al had been here that day they wouldn't have gotten me out of the building." The director winced.

"They did?" Antonio asked.

She nodded. "Yup. I had to kill two people to get free and then the FBI had to get into it because they had me in their embassy. It became a huge mess because I needed a boyfriend and haven't had one."

"I can date you in the press so they'll leave you alone," he offered sarcastically.

She stared at him. "No one would believe I'd date you. You're too old for me, you're not the geeky sort that I like, and you're a bit too pretty for guys I like. Thank you for the offer, it's sweet." She smiled. "It's not the first, but even when I tried it they still got pissy and sent more letters saying I was obviously ready to finally marry one of that family."

Antonio shuddered. "They suck when they do that." He looked at the director then at her. "One day a week?"

"Sure, if I can get some sort of device to let me take my college courses by robotic assistance. I don't have time. I'm sorry but I don't have time. Even if I gave up my own training, I might not have time. I have three classes each of the summer sessions to knock out some of the mandatories." The director winced. "That'll put me at nearly fifty hours if I pass them all this summer out of the hundred-fifty I need to graduate."

He nodded. "I know how hard it is."

"You have a coach."

"Had. He likes my ex-wife more. That's who she cheated with to break us up."

She nodded. "Sometimes women go searching but it's still a trifling thing to do." Someone stormed in and started to rant about her. "Hey, right here!" she shouted at the same volume the other trainer was using, making the woman stare at her. "I supposedly did what?"

"You've been dating athletes," she sneered.

"I'm not dating anyone, Brittney. I don't have time to date. When do you think I have all this free time going on? I have more trainees than you do, who often have more work to get done, and college courses, plus my own training. You think I have time to date?" Brittney sneered and took a swing at her. Beth took her down properly and stared down at her. "I did martial arts in high school to control my temper at the trifling hos I went to school with. It's good to see that people like that do more than become trophy wives."

"Beth, off," Major Bill said from the doorway. Beth got off her. "Nice hold position but a bit awkward."

"The desk was in the way for me to properly throw her down and make her beg," she shot back, pushing back her hair. "She said I'm supposedly dating."

"If you were, the UAE family wouldn't still want you," he said, staring at her. "It's sad that the junior trainer has more trainees to work with and still does more than a full trainer. You only have two athletes to work with and you still can't get things done on time. I've written you up at least three times in the last week alone, Brittney. I lost track in there when I was writing up your whole pack of jealous, petty pains in the butt." He looked at the director. "We need better trainers so we can get their whole pack out of here. Before they make us look bad." He looked at the man in the guest chair. Then at his daughter. He shook his head. "You're not a good solution to her problem with that family, unfortunately."

"He wants me to be his handler," she said. "I don't have time."

Major Bill nodded. "You don't. I'm assigning one of the trainee handlers to help you with the soccer team. They need to learn how to handle team sports since she wants to be a coach." She nodded, smiling at him. "Not the young one. Amanda."

"That's fine. Amanda's got a good work ethic, she's a former athlete herself, and she keeps in training shape even though she's not."

"She's training to do a marathon right now." She smiled at him for that. "I think helping your team would help her a lot and you are one of the best at making competition plans." Beth nodded. "Good." He looked at the man again. "Mr. Dala, which sport are you training for?"

"I do triathalons for the moment but I'm looking to get back into olympic diving shape."

Major Bill nodded. "We have two trainers that used to be divers. One you used to compete against."

"I know him. We cannot work together. I've tried to drown him once or twice."

"I'm fierce about conduct rules," Beth warned him. She sighed, looking at Bill.

"That would give you time to work with him, yes. You may have to juggle your own training time now and then." She nodded. He looked at him. "After nationals?"

"I only need gym time before then," he decided, looking at her. "If you'll accept?"

She sighed but nodded. "I guess I can handle that," she agreed. "It'll mean I need to study up on diving but I can do that. It's what good handlers do."

He smiled and nodded, holding out a hand. "Thank you."

She shook it. "Do remember that I'm not a coach and I'm not all that nice when things go wrong." She stared at him.

"I know."

"Okay. Now, it's my day off." She looked at the director, who waved her off. "Thank you. I'm going to go make waffles for dinner." She looked at Bill.

"Wait an hour and I'll be up there, Beth." She smiled and left. He looked at the sobbing wench on the carpet. Then at the director. "We have six in that pack."

"We can't lose six handlers."

"We're about to lose a lot more because they've been trying to climb the ladder and pissing off most everyone. They don't handle hardly anyone anyway. Julia graduates in three weeks. She can take on four of the ten they handle."

"How do six people only handle ten trainees when Beth's handling six on her own?" Antonio asked.

"Beth's got a good work ethic and knows what it means to train. Most of these stopped at college sports to pay for their degrees and weren't all that interested then." He looked at the director again.

"I'll handle it, Bill."

"Thank you. I'll calm Marjorie and Amanda down." He nodded and walked off. He brought Amanda up to dinner with him. They had to get to know her better.

"Wow," Antonio said. "I remember when we were all considered boring."

"Most of us still are," the director said with a smile. "Just not all of us." He glared at his handler. "Let me get you signed back up, Mr. Dala." He nodded, doing the paperwork and paying his fees. That let the director handle the idiot wench and her pack.

You must login (register) to review.