Page 82 of Goalie Interference

Remy grinned. “I played tuba in school for a year.”

“No shit.”

“None. Maybe if it had been a guitar instead, I might have kept it up.”

Cash leaned back in his chair, happy to talk music. “You don’t play? You should give it a try. We’ve got enough of them lying around here.”

Remy shook his head. “Not a chance. I’m sure they’re all valuable, like the one Sophie’s making, and I wouldn’t trust these hands with something like that.”

Cash sat forward, eyes fixed on me. “You’re making guitars? Since when?”

Remy

I’d assumed that her brother would know about something big, like taking over Diane’s shop and Sophie making a guitar to test it out.Nope.

She tensed up. “It’s not a big deal.”

“I didn’t think you’d made one since your course.”

“I haven’t. Is everyone done?” She stood, setting her utensils on her plate.

Cash must have sensed there was more to it. “Are you thinking of getting into custom makes? It’s a tough market.”

At that, her gaze shot up. “I know exactly how tough the market is.”

Cash put on a placating smile. “It’s one thing to do some repairs as a hobby, but…”

“A hobby?” I couldn’t keep the words back.

Now Cash looked at me. “What do you know about it?”

I was pissed that her family didn’t support her, and he should know that she did good work and others appreciated her. “I know how much time she spends working in her shop. I don’t know guitars but my teammate does, and he fucking loves the inlay she did for him. He’s told other people about it. It’s not a damned hobby, it’s her job.” Why would he belittle her like that?

Sophie straightened, shooting lasers at both of us. “You two can clean up. I’m done.” She walked away, body rigid. Damn it, I’d messed up. This was why it was better that I didn’t talk.

Cash shook his head slowly, brow furrowed. “I didn’t know it was a job for her.”

I spread out my hands. “What did you think?”

He shrugged. “She’s always liked tinkering with guitars. I thought she was fixing them for fun. If she’d been serious, she’d have talked to us—well, at least me.”

How had he missed this? “She has a whole shop in the carriage house.”

“Yeah, I had the placed done up so she could work there, but I thought she was just keeping busy. I’m away a lot. And she never said anything. Why wouldn’t she say something?”

“She gets work from a couple of guitar shops in town, I know, plus has her own clients. She works all day, Monday to Friday. She’s making the guitar because Diane?—”

I stopped. I was doing it again. Talking too much.

“Diane? From String Theory?”

“Yeah.”

“She does work for Diane?”

“Yeah.”

“Shit. I didn’t know that. I knew she apprenticed with Diane, but I didn’t know she was working for her. She has to be good, then.”

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