‘The four hundred?’ Her eyes were shining at the recollection. ‘It was a lot of fun. The sun was out by then. I just coasted through the first three hundred and then kicked for home. I had a lot left at the end — would you believe that? I never guessed it could feel so easy.’
‘It’s going to get tougher.’
‘Don’t I know it! I had a peek at next week’s schedule. Track, track, track. I guess it’s necessary. I have to be in condition for the Olympic Trials four weeks from now.’
‘You looked fit enough today.’
‘I’ll have to go faster than that, but it’s coming.’
They had come down the Institute steps and were strolling through the grounds toward the gate. Dryden nudged the conversation forward. ‘Goldine, I was hoping I would get a chance to speak with you like this, outside the retreat, away from Ingrid and all the others.’
She smiled. ‘Ingrid’s no snoop.’
‘I believe you, but the meeting we had in the massage room wasn’t my idea of a relaxed conversation. I’ll be truthful. I engineered that dope test to get some time alone with you. Don’t feel threatened. I didn’t do this to trap you. I just had the feeling yesterday that it wasn’t fair to expect you to answer my questions frankly.’
She stopped and regarded him pertly. ‘You mean I didn’t reveal enough of myself?’
He put his hand behind her elbow and gently moved her on. ‘Goldine, you’re a sensational bird, but I haven’t brought you here just to chat. Can we be serious?’
‘If that’s what you want,’ she said flatly.
‘Your father — your father by adoption — wants me to be your agent after the Olympics. When I met him first, I put him down as some kind of nut and told myself I wouldn’t touch the project. It’s a little wild to contemplate, you must admit. But underneath my cynical exterior, there’s a streak of pure greed. I’m in business and I’ve had some success. I like to think I’m still moving up. When I stop thinking that way, I should retire. Now, that selfish streak of mine tells me you could be a winner, and I ought to take the Goldengirl commission. After this afternoon, if they asked me right now, I’d take a chance and say yes. But it’s still a chance, not just because some other superdame might steal a medal you were counting on. You see, my vocation isn’t nice. I trade in people. Successful people, celebrities, world champions. I invite combines and corporations to bid for them. They make a pile of money and I take a cut. It sounds like a good arrangement, and for some of them it is.’
‘Jim Hansenburg?’
Dryden thought, and nodded. ‘He’ll do for an example. Jim’s a natural competitor. Give him any kind of test, from high school grades to Grand Prix racing, and he’ll do his damnedest to finish on top. I had him playing with a toy the other day, a miniature racing circuit, and I asked him to make sure he didn’t win — we were pitching for a contract, and I wanted our potential customer in a good frame of mind. Do you know, Jim raced that five-inch car as if he was on the Nurburgring, got ahead, and wouldn’t give way for eighty laps? Then he drove it off the track, to my incredulous relief, but I’m sure he only did that because he’d proved to himself he was morally the winner. That’s Jim Hansenburg, a nice guy, sexy — women adore him — but with this fixation to win. He knows exactly what he wants from life. Yes, he enjoys his money, girls, travel, but he only comes alive on the Grand Prix circuits. Give him five more years, when his reactions slow up a little, and that man will cease to live, Goldine. Literally, he may kill himself trying to keep up with younger, sharper drivers — plenty do — but if he does survive, it will be an empty old age, forever striving for success at pool, poker, ten-pin bowling. He knows. I’ve discussed it with him. It isn’t in his nature to do anything different. My guess is that he’ll be dead ten years from now, but it won’t be on
‘I can understand,’ she said, lowering her eyelids. ‘Are you saying the same thing could happen to me?’
He shook his head. ‘I’m telling you I’m a money-grabbing bastard who’ll push anyone who’s a winner and take my cut.’
‘But you like to give them a rundown first on their prospects?’
‘For my peace of mind, yes. There’s a glimmer of conscience in there somewhere.’
She stopped to perch herself on the concrete edging around a palm, one hand playing with her hair in a consciously feminine posture. ‘Go ahead, then. Tell me about the fate in store for me, Mr. Dryden.’
‘That’s the catch. I can’t.’
‘Come again.’
‘I understand Jim Hansenburg. Goldine Serafin, I don’t.’
‘Why should that be?’ she asked. ‘I’m a simple American girl who aims to win three gold medals.’
‘Why?’
‘How do you mean?’
‘To use a well-worn phrase, What motivates you, Goldine?’
She frowned, bewildered. ‘Is that important?’
‘To me this evening, yes.’
‘I can only answer in another cliché: it’s my life-style.’
