Page 41 of Back On Ice

“Thank you. Let’s order, and then we can get started.”

Our waitress comes over and takes our order. The food comes three pages in, and by the time we finish eating, he’s answered all my questions, confirming that we can keep the original building itself. We do need to tear out the actual rinks, redo the piping underneath, and rebuild the ice rinks to be state of the art. The entire building needs to be rewired to be up to code since it hasn’t been looked at since 1976. Then we just repaint, and add a few technological perks. Like new scoreboards, implementing a new POS system to include a monthly membership so people can scan their membership card when they come in. An updated security system rounds everything out.

We’re just about to wrap up when someone entering the diner catches my eye. Is that…?

“Shit,Oscar’s here,” I mutter, wishing I could disappear into the cushion of the booth. He’s been asking me out at least twice a month for the last six months and I haven’t wanted to be rude, but I don’t know how I can pull off a “dropped call” if we’re talking in person.

“Oscar?” Carter asks, tensing slightly before turning around.

“No, don’t turn—” Too late.

Oscar's eyes light up when he sees us and heads straight back to our table.

“Sophie, how are you? Long time, no see.”

Taking a sip of my drink, I eye Oscar before answering, “I’m fine, Oscar. What’s up?”

I’m not trying to be rude, but I haven’t gone out with the guy in two years, if you could even call it that. We never even slept together.

“It’s good to see your beautiful face in person. It’s been so long. Do you finally have a free evening coming up?” His voice is light, but there’s an undertone of annoyance.

Carter’s eyes shift between the two of us, clearly deciding if he needs to step in. I’ve been handling Oscar myself for years now though.

“Nope, no free evenings coming up.” I smile tightly. Can this guy not take a hint?

Carter looks about ready to ask him that very same question when Oscar grimaces. “Oh. Well, let me know.” He turns his head towards Carter. “Williams. Good to see you again.” He walks away before backtracking and turning to Carter like he forgot something. “Oh yeah, I just wanted to tell you what a great idea that rinks proposal was. I took a peek at it at last night's council meeting. I’ve got to say, tearing down a money pit like the rec center and replacing it with an NHL arena? Genius move.”

My blood runs cold. An arena? That’s not what we talked about. That’s not what we just spent an entire lunch going over. When I glance at Carter, his brow is furrowed with confusion.

“What the fuck? I never?—”

“Huh. I could have sworn that’s what they said.” Oscar shakes his head. “Anyway, enjoy your lunch, you two. Sophie,pencil me in when you get a free evening, okay? I’ll cancel whatever plans I already have.”

He walks away, leaving Carter and I alone at our table.

Has this whole thing been a lie? What was the point of putting together this proposal if he had one for an arena set up? Unless… was he planning on taking my signature from this contract and superimposing it over the other one?

“What was that, Carter?” My voice is cold.

“Honestly, I have no idea what he’s talking about.” His eyes seem sincere and a little confused.

“I don’t believe you, and that’s the problem.” My voice is still hard. “Who else would try to bring an NHL team here?”

“The contractor gave me a second proposal to give to the council that I didn’t look at. He said that one of the council members requested it. That must be what Oscar saw.” He shakes his head. “Trust me, I don’t have the clout it takes to convince a club to move.”

I want to believe him. What he’s saying… it makes sense.

Sitting back in my seat, I sigh. “I hate feeling like this, suspicious about everything. You never gave me any reason to distrust you while we were growing up…” I motion to him with my hand. “You need to give me something. Something true, Carter.”

He rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah. I mean, yes, I can do that.”

This is it. I’ll finally know why he betrayed me all those years ago. “I want to know about the pictures I saw online.”

He blanks. “What… what pictures?”

“The ones I saw posted on graduation day. It looked like you had just gotten done with practice and there was this girl… she was kissing you.” The words burn coming out, but he genuinely looks like he doesn’t know what I’m talking about.

Then a sudden realization crosses his face. “About the time of graduation?” he asks, leaning forward.

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