Page 1 of Levi

CHAPTER1

QUINN

Lack of foodand being surrounded by ignorant people are going to be the reasons why I snap and shank a bitch—or two, depending on the day.

Today, target number one just so happens to share fifty percent of my DNA, although that’s about the only thing she and I have in common lately.

My sister has been a thorn in my side for years in most aspects of my life. Lately, it’s becomingallaspects of my life since she, of course, decided to work with our uncle the second I showed interest. Only this is more annoying than just her refusing to order the colored athletic tape I requested or getting extra mustard on my sandwich when she ordered for everyone. Coming back to the facility and having it in complete disarray after she said it was ready?

Yeah, this is pretty fucking irritating.

Our uncle, Ronnie Sullivan, coach of the Los Angeles Stingrays, threw a fit yesterday when we walked in and all the training equipment, including medical supplies and exercise equipment, were spread throughout the hallways past his office, and back towards the locker room. He was livid that nothing was where it was supposed to be after the arena was repainted this off-season.

As soon as he saw the place, I think his blood pressure started to rise by the second, his face getting redder and redder until, finally, he threw his hands up and said we were done for the day. He looked pissed at Ally, but of course she said the areas they showed her were perfect, so she believed them…it just so happens that meant the only areas she saw were hers and my uncle’s.

The whole thing has been just one big pain in the ass because at the end of last season, we had to pack everything and label it all to be moved into storage so they could do the work without damaging anything. It was supposed to be the painters’ job to put everything back together, and my sister was the one tasked with making sure that happened. Now we’re basically having to go on a scavenger hunt around the whole damn place looking for boxes.

Oh, and when I say we, I mean me, because of course Ally is nowhere to be found.

Plus, my sister was supposed to be here at the same time as my uncle and I got here, only she didn’t show up until after nine a.m., coffee in hand—for only herself, of course. Ally isn’t good at thinking about other people, which is evident from the fact that she’s been standing next to the secretary outside our uncle’s office chatting away, even though Linda looks less than thrilled to be talking to her while actively trying to multitask, answering the phone and emails while trying to be polite.

This is a total nightmare, especially when there’s so much actual work I need to be doing to get ahead for the season. I wanted to get an early start on studying up on the athletes so that I could be prepared for any injuries we’re already aware of. At least that way, I can be proactive with training plans, and hopefully, we can avoid long-term injuries.

Instead, he had us come back at seven this morning to organize and put everything back together. Although we’ve been doing this for hours, I still feel like nothing’s done, and it’s honestly really frustrating.

I still find it hard to believe that my sister somehow convinced our uncle to hire her as his personal assistant. I mean, she’s smart—she went to college and got a degree in marketing. But street smarts? She has none. Plus, she knows nothing about hockey or about being a helpful person in general. I’m pretty sure my uncle just pays her to stay out of the way, although I’m sure he’d never admit that.

But she would never realize it.

I’ve been walking around my office looking for the box of tape I asked my sister to move when she was helping me, and it seems that she couldn’t even do that right. In the process of getting everything organized, I’ve been trying to stock my supply bag, and now I can’t find the tape, which is the last thing I need.

My stomach growls, reminding me the only thing I’ve had today is a banana and a twenty-ounce Americano. Great for my productivity—not so much for my attitude.

Making my way back down the hall, I pull Ally away from her one-sided conversation with Linda.

“Where did you put that box?” I ask, earning a blank stare from my sister. It’s crazy; we used to look like twins as kids—same dark hair, same bright blue eyes, like twins, according to everyone. But as we got older, she kept the dark look while I totally changed—my hair went dirty blonde and my eyes faded to this weird light blue, almost gray.

I used to joke that as we got older, we evolved into our true selves…her the dark devil, me the light angel. She never found it very funny, but if the shoe fits...

“What box?” Ally deadpans, looking annoyed that I’m interrupting. She has a knack for making me feel like an inconvenience, but at this moment, our uncle asked her to help me, so she’s really messing with my productivity here...and my lunch.

“The box of athletic tape I asked you to put in my office.”

“Oh…the white tape? It’s over there,” she says with a smirk as she points to the closet down the hall where there’s a stack of boxes thrown outside, definitely not where I had asked her to put it.

“Where, Ally? I don’t have time to go through all those boxes again because you’re doing a half-assed job of helping me, just like you did with ordering the tape I requested.” I groan, and she just rolls her eyes.

“I told you, it’s over there. Stop throwing a temper tantrum.”

“I. Am. Hangry. Just get the damn box so I can go eat my food in peace, Ally,” I snap as my sister stands there like a useless paperweight in a pair of ridiculous stilettos. Talk about impractical for cleaning this place up—but that tracks for her. She'll probably stand around for a couple of hours before magically disappearing to go shopping or get her hair done or something.

We both got jobs with the L.A. Stingrays after college, although mine required a degree. Her degree wasn’t necessary for her to be a personal assistant—but that’s not the point. I’m proud that I earned my place, but I won’t pretend that having my uncle as the head coach didn’t offer me a bit of an in.

At the end of the day, though, none of that really matters. Being one of the few female athletic trainers in the NHL is an accomplishment I’ll always be proud of, especially being offered a position to work with my uncle. I’ve always dreamed of the day that could be a possibility, so I’m excited I reached that milestone when I joined his staff in Los Angeles.

At the time, I needed an escape from Nashville, but I won’t lie and say I wasn’t extremely grateful to have Uncle Ronnie put in a good word for me once I finished school. Still, I’d like to believe I would’ve been able to get the job without his help.

“Like…today?” I finally snap when she just stares at me. With an exaggerated sigh, she walks away to grab the box for me.

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