Page 9 of Wicked Serve

“I just heard,” she says against my shoulder. “I’m sorry, Nik.”

I let myself melt into her embrace. She’s tall and curvy, with a glasses collection that rivals a Warby Parker store. Today’s pair is a truly hideous shade of purple, and since I last saw her, she cut her hair. The dark blond waves used to go to her shoulders, but now she’s rocking a pixie cut.

“This is new.”

She smooths the sides of her hair. “Do you like it? I figure why not announce myself more aggressively as a lesbian, really scare all the guys on the trading floor.”

I snort. Cricket has a flair for dramatics, like someone else I know. Or knew, rather. The last thing I need to think about is how well Isabelle would get along with my cousin. “You look like Kristen Stewart.”

Her eyes light up. “Do you really mean that?”

“If you ditch the glasses.”

“I like the glasses. They’re quirky.”

“They’re... ugh. They’re my new team color.”

“Oh, so Grandfather did get you in somewhere else. Spill.”

I head for the nearest room with some privacy, the sitting room with the grand piano and Jeff Koons sculpture. Cricket’s loafers click on the marble floor as she hurries to keep up. Emotion wells in my chest, threatening something deeply embarrassing—tears—so I gnaw the inside of my cheek and think of the hockey rulebook until it passes.

There’s no use mourning the loss of hockey in my life until it actually happens. Once I’m in charge of the corporation, maybe I’ll work through my sorrow by buying a hockey team. For now, I have to stay focused on the present, which includes keeping myself in the right headspace to get to work. I’m leaving for McKee first thing in the morning, with just enough time to settle in before classes begin.

“Nik?” Cricket’s voice has a soft note to it. I must be tense enough that she can see it. “Seriously, what happened?”

I collapse onto the nearest couch and drop my head into my hands. “I deserved to get expelled.”

“That’s not true.”

“A freshman is in the hospital because I fucked up.” I lift my head as she sits next to me. “The team was my responsibility.”

“But they weren’t your drugs. I don’t get why you didn’t just say—”

“Because John is at UMass on scholarship,” I interrupt. “His family doesn’t have ten houses, Cricket. He doesn’t have a fortune to fall back on. If UMass had expelled him, his future would have been over. I could take it. He couldn’t.”

I’ve never had a best friend, but John Hayes comes close. We roomed together freshman year, and he’s the only one on the team who knows the truth about my father. He can be an idiot, and bringing coke to a team party was monumentally stupid. I care about him, though, and I wasn’t about to snitch on him. Loyalty to the team is everything.

Even if because of it, the team isn’t mine anymore.

“But it was his choice, not yours. You should have told them the truth.”

“He’s my friend and teammate. And my responsibility as captain.” I manage a smile. “And look, it all worked out. Grandfather is very generously letting me finish my degree at McKee, so long as I come work for him right after.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes.”

“He can’t do that.”

“He can.” I’m not even all that bitter. The world revolves around Joseph Abney, and there’s no point in fighting it. If he gets his way—and he will get his way—that will be me eventually. The one with more power and wealth than he knows what to do with.

I can think of worse lives to lead. Not everyone gets what they want; that’s a fact. Some people don’t get anything, whether it be loving families, fulfilling careers, or romantic relationships. I should have known that I was one of the unlucky ones.

“He knows you’re going to play hockey professionally, right? Like, for millions of dollars?”

“Why make millions playing a sport that will wreck your body when you can make billions in a boardroom?”

Cricket stands, practically vibrating with indignation. “Did he say that?”

---