Chapter four
Nix
Jacksonville Training Center
What had I been expecting? Not this. The center was a large complex where dirt bike racers, and even racers and athletes from some other sports, could train with the best resources possible.
We could do all of our recording right here and never run out of material.
Well, as long as everyone signed off, but the only one who had so far was Cole Lindt’s team.
Jason followed me into the front lobby of the center. “Here.” He scrambled over a large desk on the far wall like a jacked-up monkey.
“What are you doing? You couldn’t go around?”
He looked at me like I’d lost my mind. “And miss a chance to go over?” He shook his head while I walked around to join him on the other side.
There was no attendant present, but monitors had been built into the lower part of the desk, so you could see schedules.
“Here’s Cole.” I tapped the monitor. “Let’s drop in and say hello before we bring in the equipment.
Don’t want him freaking out on us.” We’d left our equipment in the rental van, parked in the visitor spot by the door.
Jason stepped up beside me to look at the monitor. He tapped it and the screen changed to a map. It pinned where we were and where Cole was, which was only down the hall. “Cool deal.” I followed Jason.
We were dressed alike in jeans and polo shirts.
Mine was red and his was blue. It made his eyes stand out, not that I noticed.
Both our shirts had our newly formed partnership logo embroidered on the right chest. Gibbons and Braumere Production.
Everything we did with this project would funnel through the company.
At the end of the hall, a set of double doors blocked the room where Cole was training.
Jason pushed them open to reveal a large open room with a wall of windows, letting in light on the far side.
Weight equipment was stacked on various racks under the windows.
On the left wall, bigger equipment like rowing machines, ellipticals, and a leg press were lined up on display.
On the right side, a row of treadmills faced the soft peach-colored wall.
Cole was on one of them. He was hooked up to another machine beside the treadmill with medical leads stuck on his chest and back, and he had some kind of mask over his face.
He ran at a steady pace, faster than I liked to jog, but not at a hard run, either.
I only knew it was Cole because no one else was in the room.
“Excuse me.” A young man pushed passed us. “I need to check on Mr. Lindt. I’ll be with you after that.” He walked over and examined the machinery. “Okay, Cole. Let’s walk it off.” He pushed buttons on the treadmill and slowed Cole to an easier pace.
“Hi, I’m Jason Gibbons. We’ll shake later. This is my partner and videographer, Nikolai Braumere.”
“Call me Nix.” I never used my full name and had no idea why Jason would throw it out there now. He was one of only a few people who even knew it.
Cole turned his head to look at us. He rolled his eyes.
His spectacular eyes. They were precious gems to Jason’s worthless rocks, blue and green with flecks of gold making them seem exotic.
When he turned away without a word, I only wanted him to look back.
Hell, I couldn’t even really see the rest of his face with the mask on, and I wanted more.
The trainer turned to us, though, and he didn’t look happy. “You’ll have to wait until he’s finished.”
“No worries.” Jason held his hands up in front of him to placate the guy, but he looked at Cole.
“Just wanted to drop in and let you know we were here. Vick is meeting with us in a few to go over everything regarding you and this project, then we’ll be your shadows.
” He faced the trainer and held up his hands as if protesting.
“Not interfering or getting in the way.”
Cole glanced back, taking us in, then graced us with another eye roll.
Then he pushed some buttons on the treadmill, jumped on the side boards and pulled the mask off.
“I’m done.” He started handing the equipment to the trainer and faced us while he pulled the electrodes off his chest. The trainer set the mask down and started popping off the ones on his back.
“I’m not thrilled about this, just so y’all know.
I don’t particularly want everyone seeing my training and progress.
I’m going along with it because Vick says I have to.
So don’t get in my face with your cameras. ”
His attitude was something else I hadn’t been expecting. “What about questions?”
“What do you mean?” He turned those amazing eyes on me again. They gleamed against the sheen of sweat covering his face. His hair was a blondish-brown, darker where it was wet. I liked a sweaty Cole, and I felt my energy spike.
“Questions? Will you be willing to answer questions?” I asked.
“Like an interview?”
Jason scoffed. “More like questions as we go. If we see or hear something we don’t understand, or want more information about, we’ll ask.”
Those eyes rolled again. “I guess it depends on what you’re asking.”
“We’re not digging for trade secrets, Cole. Can I call you Cole?” Jason asked.
“We’re going to be stuck together for a while, so I guess you better. Now, I have work to do.” He pointed to the trainer who was now openly scowling at us.
“Right. We have stuff to do, too. We’ll see you at the meeting.” I needed to be either out of his cosmic glare or stripping those workout shorts off him. I turned Jason back toward the door.
“Well, he’s a regular bowl of sunshine.”
I snorted at that. “I thought he agreed to this. That sounded like he was coerced.”
Jason shrugged. “There’s obviously something else going on. I knew he was a cold dude, but I didn’t expect that.”
“That? What? You mean his open hostility?”
“Are you talking about Cole or his trainer?” Jason laughed. He wasn’t wrong. They were made for each other, it seemed.
We managed to get our equipment up to our rooms on the fourth floor, where all the guest rooms at the training center were in the facility, then back down to a conference room on the first floor.
We didn’t bring cameras and equipment to this initial meeting, but after this, they’d be with us going forward.
Jason and I agreed that we’d both film to have more footage to choose from during editing.
I preferred to be behind a camera. Jason was the wordsmith.
He’d write a script during the process, but we’d need to arrange a professional narrator.
I had a few good contacts for that and for music.
We were serious about this project. It would be professional.
It would tell a story, though we weren’t entirely sure how that story would play out.
Jason assured me he had several ideas, and it would all come together.
I trusted him. I didn’t know what to think of Cole Lindt, though, and that worried me. This was my career on the line.
I followed Jason into the conference room.
Windows lined the far wall, letting in a ton of natural light that spilled over the long table.
Cole Lindt sat at one end of said table with his arms crossed over his chest and a scowl on his face.
I knocked on the table twice and sat down across from him at the other end. This was going to be a wasted trip.
“Hey everyone!” Jason was entirely too chipper. He sat in the seat on the corner next to me. Down the table from him were a few suits I didn’t know. “I’m Jason Gibbons. This is—”
“Nix.” I interrupted. I didn’t want my full name out there, and Jason was sure to blab it. I trusted him in most things, but I also knew how he could get when he was promoting an idea he loved. I didn’t hold it against him.
“Nix. Jason.” One of the suits stood. “I’m Vick Habersham, representing SJA Motorsports/Hyper-fantasy league/KTM factory racing.” I noticed he didn’t say Cole.
When Vick sat back down, another man spoke up.
“I’m Dean Warble. I’m the facilities manager here.
I want to be sure you’re cleared for access.
Here.” He slid an envelope toward us. “These are your credentials. Please wear the lanyards wherever you go. There will be other athletes around, please do not invade their spaces and interrupt their training.”
Jason held up one hand and slid the envelope to me with the other. “Please. We are professionals. We’re not here to cause trouble. We’ll be following Cole, chatting with him. There may be a couple other racers later in the month, but we don’t have an agreement with them signed yet.”
“You don’t have one from me either,” Cole muttered.
My eyes flew wide. “What? Are you serious? Jason?” I turned to my friend. “I thought this had been worked out.”
It was Vick who answered. “I have the form. We’ve discussed it, but I haven’t had Cole sign it yet.”
“Let’s see this form.” Cole rolled those crazy eyes again. My heart flipped over. He was about to kill this project.
I fingered the envelope. I had to save this situation.
“Cole. What questions can we answer for you?” I couldn’t think of anything else to say, but it must have been the right thing, because the mood of the room shifted as he took me in.
Where there was a harsh tension, now the air held a crack of curious electricity.
“Questions? You want to answer my questions about this?”
I nodded slowly, unsure. “Anything to help get this production running.”
He smirked. “Well. For a minute there, I thought you cared what-the-fuck I thought.”
“Wait. I care. If you’re not ready to participate, this isn’t going to go well. I—we…” I slapped Jason’s arm. “We want this to be something beneficial for everyone. Us, the facility, your team, but especially you.”
“Yeah? Me? And why’s that?”
Jason answered. “You’ve struggled the last few years. Your reputation hasn’t been great, but you’re a great racer. We want to see you come back and maybe win the championship next season.”
“And you want it all on tape. I get it. But what if I don’t?
What if I fail? What if I don’t go back?
” Cole choked up a bit but tried to hide it.
That was the moment I changed my opinion about him.
He wasn’t being purposefully hostile and angry.
He was scared. Terrified we’d capture his lowest moments and show the world a negative side of him.
“Cole, I’ll let you see post-production. I’ll write it into the agreement.” I pointed at the sheet of paper he now hand in front of him. His hand was on top of it as if pinning it to the table. “Slide it here.”
“Why would you do that?”
“So you can see that we’re not going to include anything you don’t want us to.”
“What?” Jason asked. He turned to the side and whispered, “We didn’t talk about that.”
I leaned down and whispered back, “You want him to do this or not? Because he’s about to walk.”
Jason straightened up. “Excuse us. Yes. We’ll write that in.”
Cole slid the paper down the table. Vick grabbed it and slid it toward us without looking at it. Jason grabbed it. “Anyone have a pen?”
Dean pulled a pen from his front pocket and handed it over.
Jason scrawled on the agreement he’d previously had prepared for Cole then slid it over to me to look at.
Satisfied, I nodded. Instead of sliding the paper down, I stood and circled the table.
I touched Cole’s shoulder and handed it over.
Tingles shot from the heat of his arm down to my gut.
“We want this to be a good thing.” My words came out funny, and when he looked up at me, our gazes connected on some other level.
Those tingles did back flips, like tiny gymnasts in my tummy.
I didn’t need that. I smiled, hoping Cole couldn’t see right into my soul.
“Thank you.” He turned away and stared at the paper.
The entire room held its breath. I held my breath.
Cole signed the paper with a long sigh, reinforcing the impression that he didn’t feel he had a choice in the matter.
He was going to sign it because Vick was staring him down with laser-eyes.
The team wanted this. There was more going on here.
I could tell, but until we had Cole alone, I wasn’t going to question it.
“Thank you.” I took the paper from him and returned to my seat.