Instead of giving up, Jannie jumped back to her feet and took off. She didn’t win, but she caught up to and passed every competitor but one.
“I don’t care who you are, that was fast,” Kincaid said when the camera returned to him. “But you ain’t seen nothing yet.”
The screen jumped to today’s race. Jannie exploded from the blocks while the anchors kept talking.
Jones said, “For ten years, the record stood. A decade passed after a San Diego runner shattered the women’s U.S. national high-school record in the four-hundred-meter track event by two seconds, breaking the tape at fifty point seventy-four seconds.”
Kincaid picked up the narrative as the racers ran the first curve and into the backstretch, saying, “For ten years, that record was considered unassailable. For a decade, no U.S. female high-school athlete came close to that blistering time. Until Jannie Cross ran today in an invitational meet on the track at Howard University.”
On-screen, Jannie and the other athletes were close to the far turn.
Jones said, “The rest of the field is looking competitive at this point in the race. But watch what happens when Jannie Cross enters that turn.”
The screen showed Jannie hitting fourth gear and going into her bounding gait, then hitting fifth gear and running down the straightaway and through the tape.
Kincaid said, “How fast was Jannie Cross today?”
The camera showed the timing box flashing: 50.74.
Jones returned to the screen. “Fast enough to tie the national record. She tied the national record and she looked like she still had a lot left in the tank at the finish!”
“Fast, fast, fast,” Kincaid said, “and we’ve got Jannie Cross live here tonight from her home in DC. Hi there, speedster.”
The big screen across the room showed Jannie smiling nervously into the camera. “Hi.”
“Hi back,” Jones said. “Young lady, you are something.”
“Thank you,” Jannie said.
“How does it feel to be co-holder of a national record?”
Jannie’s mouth hung open a second, then she said, “At first, I could not believe it. I mean, I did not go out there today trying to do that. I just ran like I know I can. I was as shocked as everyone else was.”
“Tell us how you did it while we show the race in split screen.”
“Okay,” Jannie said, watching the screen and seeing the race again. “I felt solid about my start, which gave me confidence through the first curve and down the back straight. I felt like I was flowing, easy, and I was ready to attack coming into the final turn. Then I just let it go when Coach said to let it go.”
“You did indeed,” Kincaid said. “I heard you picked Howard University over six or seven top track programs. Why was that?”
Jannie looked at Nana Mama and then back at the camera. “My great-grandmother lives here with us. She used to be a teacher and told me education should come first even if I am fast. And Howard has such a great reputation academically and in track. And Coach Oliver is an inspiration to me.”
Jones said, “Smart great-grandmother, and good for Howard and Coach Oliver.”
Kincaid said, “And good on you, Jannie Cross, and thank you for coming on SportsCenter. I don’t think it will be the last time. I expect we’ll be able to play our little shtick about your achievements in the future.”
“Thanks for having me,” Jannie said.
Her face disappeared from the big screen, leaving the anchors shaking their heads and arranging papers on their desk.
“Jannie’s so fast,” Kincaid said.
“So, so fast,” Jones said.
The show went to commercial and we all started cheering.
“How does it feel to be one of the fastest young runners of all time?” I asked, giving Jannie a hug.
“Honestly, Dad?” Jannie said, snuggling into my chest. “It’s like a dream I never want to end.”
CHAPTER 29
Greenwich, Connecticut
BREE AND PHILLIP HENRY LUSTER found seats at a table for eight some distance from the small stage where musicians were playing softly for the patrons gathering to dine in Frances Duchaine’s ballroom.
Bree settled into her chair and immediately felt constricted.
Luster noticed and said, “Spanx?”
“How did you guess?”
“The Heimlich maneuver expression on your face.”
Bree laughed and rubbed her stomach. “Funny but true. I feel like I’m wearing a medieval corset with whalebones.”
Luster chuckled. “Can I give you advice so you can actually enjoy the meal?”
“I’m not taking this dress or the Spanx off,” she said. “I’ll never get back in it.”
“No, no,” Luster said, and he chuckled again. “Just do the broadcaster-on-a-couch sit.”
Bree knit her brows until the fashion designer scooted forward to the edge of his chair and spread his legs. “There. My belly is free to hang now. My diaphragm becomes less restricted. The breath comes easier. Try.”
Bree scooted forward, hesitated, then spread her thighs wide. With the snugness of the dress, it put a strain on her neck and back, but she found it was much easier to breathe.
“Okay,” she said, smiling. “Thank you. That does help.”
“I’m here to serve.” Tess Jackson’s chief fashion designer looked away for a moment. “Well, it’s a boy toy this evening.”
Bree followed Luster’s amused gaze and spotted Frances Duchaine being escorted to her table by a tall strapping blond man twenty years her junior.
“He’s right out of central casting, isn’t he?” Luster said. “It’s a shame he’s straighter than an arrow.”
“Who is he?”
Luster shrugged. “This one is a Burt or something like that. But it could be a Greg or a Tony or even a Karen if Frances is feeling a little exotic and … oh, the black widow makes an early appearance. Imagine that.”
Bree looked over and saw a pretty, petite brunette in her forties wearing a simple black dress talking intently to Frances Duchaine.
“Who’s that?” Bree asked.
“Paula Watkins,” Luster said. “Frances’s dark shadow.”
“Her dark shadow?” Bree asked.
“It’s an accurate description,” Luster said. “Oh God, here she comes. Decide for yourself. It’s like I’m a magnet or something.”
Indeed, Watkins had left Duchaine’s table and was now making a beeline straight for their table.
“Hello, Phillip,” Watkins said, her smile a little forced. “I hope you brought your checkbook.”
“A black card,” Luster said. “Paula Watkins, have you met Evelyn Carlisle?”
“I haven’t had the pleasure,” Watkins said, locking eyes with Bree as she moved around Luster with her hand extended. “But in fact, I came over more to talk with you, Evelyn, than Phillip. That dress looks stunning on you, by the way.”
“Well, thank you,” Bree said, standing to shake her hand. “And talk to me?”
Watkins smiled, said, “Yes, I wondered if I might have a quick moment in private to chat with you about the particulars of tonight’s charity in hopes that you might be overly generous during the auction. You don’t mind, do you, Phillip?”