Page 8 of Fate on the Ice

I don’t know what that personal touch is going to be yet, but I’ll be the one to put it there. My last place, I was just a visitor, really. It wasn’t anything I cared much about. It was a room to sleep in. This is different. I feel it deep in my bones.

This is bigger than going away to college.

This is huge.

I know it is.

There is a quiet knock beside me. Turning my head, I look over my shoulder and see Brooklynn standing in my doorway. She is smiling, although it seems almost sad. Frowning, I start to ask her what’s wrong, but she speaks before I can.

“This was Lorelai’s room,” she whispers.

I thought she had said this girl had gotten with one of the guys across the street, but her sadness and melancholy fill the room, and I’m suddenly unsure if I heard her correctly. I open my mouth again to ask her if everything is alright and if her friend is okay, but she speaks again and cuts me off.

“I’m being sad, which is dumb. Everything changes, and she’s so happy with Reid. They’re perfect for one another. But seeing someone else move in here made me sad for a minute.”

Brooklynn shakes her head a couple of times, then, as if flipping a switch, her entire face transforms, and she’s wearing a happy expression—almost excited even.

“I’m glad you’re here, though. I think this is going to be fun.”

I smile. I don’t tell her it won’t be fun if I can’t get my shit together and think of some kind of career to strive for that doesn’t involve a four-year university degree because I doubt I’ll get accepted into anything after that whole fiasco.

And that it really won’t be fun if my father decides to cut me off before I have said career and job to pay my bills. My father would do that. As much as he claims he wants to help, I know him better than that.

“I hope so,” I say. “I need to focus on a plan.”

Brooklynn’s teeth sink into the corner of her bottom lip, and I can tell she’s thinking of something. I’m just not sure if I’m going to like what she has to say.

“I can’t offer you anything huge because our salon is brand new, but we do need someone to answer phones, sweep up the hair on the floor, and clean the wash stations. It won’t pay much at all, minimum wage, and really, we can’t hire you full time or anything…”

I know she doesn’t think she’s offering me anything special, but she doesn’t realize that she’s offering me everything right now. Sure, I won’t be able to pay for my own rent, or anything else on that, not in this economy, but it is giving me something I need—a start.

“I would love that. I’ll take it,” I say instantly. I don’t even need to think about it. I know it’s exactly what I need right now. “When do I start?”

Brooklynn claps her hands together a few times, then squeals with delight. I almost laugh at her, but instead, I just smile because her good news is infectious, to say the least. She takes a step toward me, then another, and wraps her arms around me in a hug.

“I’m so excited,” she whispers against my ear before she releases me and takes a step backward. “Dinner tonight, charcuterie and drinks to celebrate.”

“We already celebrated last night,” I call out.

She turns around, then looks back over her shoulder at me, wearing what I can only describe as a devious smile before she speaks.

“Tonight, we celebrate with the neighbors. You get to meet the whole crew.”

With a wink and without saying another word, she turns and walks out of the room. I stand in the middle of the bedroom, staring at the empty doorway, wondering what the hell I’m going to do next.

Anxious energy slides throughout my entire body. I cannot tell these guys who my dad is. There is no way that will go over well. They’ll see me as different and treat me differently, too.

I decide to keep the fact that my father is essentially their boss to myself. Nobody needs to know. I’m here to change my own life, to better myself, to figure out what happens next. It doesn’t have anything to do with him. And it’s not like we’re close, anyway. They will probably never figure it out.

I’m grateful to him because I would be living in my car right now if it weren't for his help. But I’m still going to try to do as much as I possibly can without asking for any more. And I certainly am not telling a soul who my father is.

Not the girls, and especially not these guys.

OTTO

“Don’t get too comfortable,” Forrest calls out as soon as I walk into the house.

Tossing my gym bag on the floor beside the front door, I move farther into the living room. The guys are all in different positions—sitting, standing, leaning against walls—but they are all together as if they’re getting ready to go somewhere.

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