Page 42 of Hat Trick Daddies

He looms over me, a smile curling at the corners of his mouth, but the sharp glint in his eyes makes it anything but friendly. “Listen,” he says, his tone oozing condescension. “You’ve more than proven yourself here with your experience and knowledge. Like I said, I was planning to retire until I was reminded that I’d signed up to be your mentor last year.”

I swallow hard, unsure of where this is going, but I nod anyway.

He leans down slightly, his voice dropping. “Either way, let’s just say that, as your superior, I trust your instincts. Let’s also say you might not see me as much. You might not see me every week, even.” He pauses for effect, his smile widening. “Your paperwork will say you saw me, but you might not have. Your paperwork will say, above all, that I saw you hereevery day. Are we clear?”

The weight of his words sinks in, and my eyes widen slightly.

“Yes,” I manage, nodding quickly.

It dawns on me what Dr. Martin is really saying.

He’s done watching me like a hawk.

He’s ready to check out, retire, and coast until my fellowship ends.

If I’m okay with it, he’ll sign off on my fellowship as though I’d been under his constant supervision the entire time.

“Yes, yes, absolutely, Dr. Martin,” I say, my voice enthusiastic.

He watches me for a beat, the smile never quite reaching his eyes.

“You’re the superior,” I add quickly, trying to match his energy. “Whatever you say goes.”

His smile tightens, and he nods. “Good. I thought we’d be on the same page.”

I force myself to smile back, my heart racing in my chest.

This is the break I didn’t know I needed. No more hovering, no more constant critiques. It’s like the world has shifted slightly, and for once, the weight on my shoulders feels a little lighter

“Good! Good,” Dr. Martin says, straightening up and brushing imaginary lint from his sleeve. “Glad we have an understanding.”

He pauses, fixing me with a sharp look.

“Now, don’t take advantage of this. You’re still supposed to be here for all your regular hours. I won’t sign off if I find out you’ve been skipping work because I wasn’t here. Understand?”

“Absolutely, Dr. Martin,” I reply, nodding earnestly.

He watches me for another long moment, then turns and strides toward the door. “Good,” he says over his shoulder. “I’ll see you…when I see you.”

And just like that, he’s gone.

I sit there for a moment, the silence of the office almost deafening.

The door clicking shut behind him feels like the sound of chains breaking.

A grin spreads across my face as I lean back in my chair, letting out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. The weight of his constant supervision is gone, and for the first time, I feel like I can actually breathe in this office.

I glance around the empty space, the stillness no longer suffocating. It feels like freedom. Pure, unadulterated freedom.

I decide I’ve had enough of sitting in this office doing nothing.

If Dr. Martin isn’t here to micromanage me, there’s no reason I can’t make better use of my time. Slipping on my coat, I pull a pair of gloves and a knit hat from the pocket.

The chill of the Minnesota winter is creeping in earlier than expected, and even the thought of the cold rink air makes me shiver.

The hallways feel warm by comparison to the rink, the quiet hum of the building and the muffled sound of skates on ice creating a soothing backdrop.

I make my way through the maze of corridors, my pace quickening slightly as I near the rink doors.

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