Page 15 of A Whole New Trick

Dr. Gaines continues to smile to himself for a few more seconds, then shakes his head. “Well, I suppose you’re wondering why I called you in here. Other than to sing your praises and chat about your dad.”

I’m not even upset that he forgot his question about how I selected my criteria for generating meal plans for specific athletes. “Yes. I mean, I am. Wondering, I mean.”

Ugh, Morgan. Act like a professional, for goodness sake!

Dr. Gaines isn’t put off by my awkward reaction. “My colleagues and I believe your talents aren’t being fully utilized in your current position, and we’d like you to take on the role of a nutritional coach for one of our star players.”

My heart leaps into my throat.

“How does that sound?”

“When do I start?” I blurt, too excited to be embarrassed for sounding so eager.

This is it! This is what I’ve busted my ass for ever since deciding I wanted to be a sports dietician.

As an undergrad, I developed a passion for nutrition while helping my volleyball teammates nourish their bodies and maintain peak performance. I strived to help all of us overcome the toxic diet culture that permeates society, especially for women.

Women athletes are praised for their physical feats but criticized for looking too muscular. Educating myself and other young women about the importance of taking care of our bodies to prevent injuries and maximize performance became a passion of mine.

Our generation is doing a lot of work to undo the exposure being raised by mothers who were victims of toxic body ideals and jazzercize celebrities, but we’ve still got a long way to go.

Unfortunately, my mom was a victim of the unhealthy campaigns that ran rampant during her formative years. As a ballet dancer, she was also subjected to unhealthy body image ideals by her dance companies.

Mom can’t resist criticizing her body, saying she looks too “manly” when she develops any muscle. It takes effort not to take those comments personally, considering I’m still pretty fit even though I haven’t played collegiate volleyball in years.

“I love your enthusiasm.” Dr. Gaines says, pulling my thoughts away from the depressing subject of toxic body ideals. “Honestly, the sooner you start, the better. With playoffs around the corner, it’s important we give every advantage we can to our team, including enhancing the performance of even our most talented stars.”

It isn’t until his last sentence that the possibility of who the star athlete I could be working with comes to mind, filling me with dread.

“Who is?—”

A knock interrupts my question.

“Speak of the devil,” Dr. Gaines says to me before calling out. “Come in.”

My heart races. My hands shake. I tuck them into my lap to hide the movement and try to steady my breathing.

There’s no way.

Fate wouldn’t be so cruel to make working with Dane a condition of my dream job. I’ve worked too hard to get to this point.

But the moment the door opens, my fears are realized as I turn and watch the man who haunts my thoughts every night before I go to bed step into the office.

5

MORGAN

Dane doesn’t seeme at first. His lips are pressed in a flat line as he takes in the office, then looks at Dr. Gaines.

Finally, his eyes shift onto me. I see a flash of irritation in his annoyingly stunning eyes before it’s swiftly replaced by shock.

“Morgan?”

I hate how hearing him say my name makes my stomach clench.

This is the guy who stroked my ego only to pulverize my confidence when he decided not to reach out after the club.

I feel Dr. Gaines’s gaze, as well as Justin, the team’s head athletic trainer.

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