“Can I help?” he asks. “I’m no chef, but I can follow instructions if you tell me what to do.”

I consider the recipe. “Do you think you’re up for the challenge of chopping celery?”

He nods. I hand one to him along with a knife and a cutting board, and we get to work side by side at the kitchen table. Our knives thwack rhythmically into our respective vegetables, and I realize again that I don’t know what to say that will strike the right balance between friendly and polite.

Ryan clears his throat. “Hallie was great today,” he says. “Clean, on point.”

I’m both relieved and disappointed that he brought up work. It’s easy, safe territory—I don’t have to worry about accidentally saying anything unprofessional or inappropriately personal. But on the other hand, well, it’s work. I don’t want to be just his coworker.

“Cheers to that,” I say, raising my wineglass.

He clinks his to mine. “Cheers. Seriously. Let’s just hope she keeps up the good work,” he says, sighing.

“I’m sure she will,” I say. “You’re a great coach.”

“I do all right,” he says, shrugging. “But you had Dimitri. The best. I’m jealous.”

“You’re jealous I had him?” I ask.

“Yeah,” he says, his voice full of awe. “He’s a legend. I tried for years to get him to take me on, but he only coaches women’s gymnastics. What was he like?”

“Tough,” I say honestly, moving on to mince a clove of garlic. “Really brutally tough. I like your style better.”

“Really?” He looks skeptical.

“Oh, one hundred percent. Hallie loves you. Dimitri was… intense.”

“What do you mean?”

“Eh, I don’t want to get into it. Let’s just put it this way: he had insanely high expectations, and it was impossible to meet them all.”

“Huh. I’m sorry to hear you had a hard time with him.”

“It’s fine,” I say.

“I didn’t mean to pry,” he says.

“It’s fine,” I say again, using a tone that I hope will shut down the subject. I stand up to start cooking the veggies in a pot on the stove. “I’m fine.”

Luckily, Ryan doesn’t keep digging.

“Coaching’s really the only thing I’m qualified for at this point, so I better make the most of it.”

“You went to college, though—what did you study?” I ask.

“I majored in business so I could always have the option of starting my own gym, if I wanted to,” he explains. “But I don’t think I was the most dedicated student. I went to school on a gymnastics scholarship, and that was mostly what I cared about.”

“Would you really open your own gym?” I ask.