Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 99921 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 333(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99921 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 333(@300wpm)
“Oh boy.” I chuckled. “I would love to be a fly on the wall when he sees this.”
“He’ll fire me. Again. But then he’ll realize he doesn’t know any of the passwords for the software we use, and he’d have to answer the phones and be friendly to people. So he’ll get over himself.”
“Sounds like you really have his number.”
“He wasn’t too hard to crack.”
“Maybe for you, but I find the man confusing as heck.”
Opal smirked. “He spends a lot of time fighting the war inside of him—the one between good and evil. But one thing you can bet on, Fox Cassidy will always, in the end, do the right thing. These days, that pisses him off.”
“These days? So he wasn’t always so grumpy?”
“Nope.”
“What made him that way?”
“The usual. Trying to change things that couldn’t be changed, and instead, they wind up changing you. I think we all have things in our lives that turn us into different people. Sometimes it’s for the better; sometimes it’s for the worse. But we evolve and move on the best we can.”
I certainly understood that. I wasn’t the same person I’d been even a few months ago. I nodded. “That’s very true.”
“But I have a hunch there’s another change coming for Fox Cassidy. A good one this time.” Opal’s eyes sparkled. “And for you, too.”
CHAPTER 11
* * *
A Lifetime Ago
Fox
Four-and-a-half years ago
“I’m nervous.”
I rubbed Evie’s shoulders. “Of course you are. You wouldn’t be the athlete you are if you took success for granted.”
“What if I don’t qualify?”
“There’s no room for doubt right now. You gotta leave that shit on the table.”
I’d flown to Atlanta last night after my game to be here for Evie’s qualifier. We’d been pretty much inseparable the last six months, since the day I’d kicked her ass and won a date. Well, as inseparable as two professional athletes who spent twelve hours a day training could be. My team had already qualified, so Evie was carrying an added pressure. I had to fly back this afternoon, but I felt like she needed me here, especially since her mother was here, too. A not-too-successful former competitive ice skater herself, the woman was the mother of all controlling stage-mothers. She was also a raging alcoholic and religious zealot—a combination that wasn’t fun.
But speak of the devil.
Paula Dwyer marched over to the waiting area where Evie and I stood. I’d hoped she might oversleep this morning, after finding her in the bar three sheets to the wind when I arrived late last night. But no such luck.
“There you are. How’s the leg this morning? Did you use the massage gun like your trainer told you to do? You know I didn’t make the state competition years ago because I ignored my trainer’s advice. You’re twenty-five, a dinosaur in figure skating years. This is it for you. You screwed up all your other chances. It’s now or never so you—”
Who the hell tells their kid they screwed up right before the biggest competition of their life? I put my hand up, interrupting. “Paula.”
“What?”
“She’s trying to stay calm.”
Her mother frowned. “So now you’re the figure-skating expert, are you? What do you know about pressure? You qualified with a team.”
“Fox is right, Mom.” Evie sighed. “I don’t need to be reminded that this is my last chance.”
“I was only trying to give you a pep talk.” Paula dug into her purse and pulled out a flask. She twisted off the cap and took a long swig.
I kept my mouth shut and whispered to Evie, “Why don’t you put your earbuds in and get in the zone?”
She nodded. For the next fifteen minutes, I watched the big screen while Evie quietly stretched and listened to music. Her coach was busy inside with one of his other skaters—a woman I’d met a few times at Evie’s practices. My neck was a knot of tension as the woman took her place and started her routine. Everything seemed to be going great, until it wasn’t.
She fell. I hadn’t thought Evie was paying attention, but when I looked over, her eyes were glued to the screen. She swallowed. A few minutes later, Brian, her coach, emerged. He tamped down the look of disappointment on his face as he walked over to us.
“How you feeling, Evie?”
She plucked an earbud out. “Okay. Is it time?”
“Two more. But we should go inside and wait on deck.”
Evie blew out a deep breath and nodded, looking to me.
I smiled and put my hands on her shoulders. “You got this. No hesitations. Leave it all on the ice. Balls out. You hear me?”
She nodded.
Her mother shouldered between us. “The Lord blessed us with these talents. Let’s honor Him.”
Evie bowed her head as her mother said some prayer. I believed in God and had said my share of pre-competition supplications, but breathing in alcohol fumes from the woman reciting the words just didn’t sit right with me.