Page 6 of Goalie Interference

I wasn’t sure how to answer that, but at least it sounded like she knew I was coming. “There was a driver waiting when I landed. He just dropped me off outside but you didn’t hear me. You might want to close the doors when you’re wearing those headphones.”

Her back straightened. “This is a secure property, and you need that gate code you were given to get in. Normally this is perfectly safe.”

“Okay. Just trying to find where I’m staying.” My eyes moved to the staircase, wondering if I’d have to walk through her shop every time I came and left the building.

She followed my glance. “Oh no. Those stairs are locked off. You can use the outside ones. You have the code for that lock too?”

I nodded and held up my phone. Like she could somehow read the messages on there through the dark screen. “Sorry to disturb you, then.” I took a step back, ready to get out, grab my stuff and escape upstairs.

“Wait—how long are you staying here?”

She looked worried, but I didn’t have a definite answer. “I’m not sure…maybe through June?”

Her head dropped back. “I don’t suppose you work nine to five?”

“No. My hours are weird and I travel a lot. Why?”

She huffed a breath, sawdust shifting off her face. “Because this is where I work, and as you might have noticed, it’s noisy sometimes.”

“No one said anything about that. Just that this was a place I could stay with my dog.”

She stared at me. “Your what?”

“Dog.”

“Damn it, Cash,” she muttered. I had no idea who or what Cash was. “I hope your dog can get along with the cat who lives here.”

I sincerely doubted that. “I’ll keep him on a leash.”

She dropped the stick of wood on the workbench, near the disassembled guitar. “So you’re here, you’re around in the daytime, and you’llbearound till June. Just peachy.”

I almost apologized, but this wasn’t my fault. I hadn’t made the arrangements. “Maybe you should talk to whoever set this up. Right now I need to put my stuff somewhere because I have to check in tomorrow.”

“What time do you start work?”

I swiped my phone open and scrolled through the emails that had come from the team. There were a lot, but I finally found one that detailed what was going on for the first day of training camp. “I’ll be gone around nine.”

“I have a couple of projects I need to finish before I can find another place to work. I’ll try to get that done while you’re out.”

“Thank you.” I still felt bad for disrupting her business, but I had no idea what the setup was here. I just knew I needed to be ready to mesh with a new team in the morning, one with a goalie coach who didn’t like me. Once I got to know the team, maybe I could find someone else to room with, or another rental.

I escaped up the stairs with my stuff, punched in the code, and checked out what would be my home for tonight at least. An open room with a kitchen to the right, a breakfast bar and stools separating it from a small table and a living room with a couch, a chair and a TV. Through open doors on the left I saw a bathroom and a bedroom. It wasn’t luxurious, but it would do. I put my things in the bedroom, and scrounged for linens to make the bed.

I lay down, hands crossed behind my head. It wasn’t my fault, but I’d now pissed off two of the three people I knew inAustin. Otts, my new goalie coach, and the woman downstairs. I didn’t think the guy driving the SUV hated me, but I might never see him again.

What I wouldn’t do for hockey.

Chapter 4

Who is it?

Sophie

My new neighbor, who was leaning heavily into the whole lumberjack vibe, disappeared, leaving me with a lot of pent-up frustration and nowhere to vent it. I didn’t trust myself to work, so once I’d made sure Mountain Man was in the apartment and out of listening range, I called Diane.

Diane Fischer owned what was arguably the best luthier shop in Austin, String Theory, repairing stringed instruments and custom-building guitars. She’d been my mentor when I was learning my craft. After Dad and Cash’s guy, Conrad, had refused to waste his time with me—his words—her support had been invaluable in giving me confidence in what I wanted to do.

Once I’d moved on to my own shop we’d become friends, and we usually got together a couple times a month. We were due for a meetup.

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