Page 82 of Second Chance Faceoff

“Okay, but it’s a big game. His first back in the majors. I don’t want to… I don’t know. Distract him?”

Tessa sat up straighter, all business now. “When’s his next game?”

“Tuesday,” I said slowly, unsure where this was going.

“Great,” she replied, already pulling her phone from her bag and unlocking it. “I’m booking your flights.”

“What?” I leaned back, eyes wide.

She didn’t even look up. “Do not make me give you the death stare.”

I sighed, already half-defeated. “Alright,” I muttered.

Tessa’s thumbs flew across the screen.

I glanced out the window, half talking to myself. “This is going to get expensive—flying back and forth. And I can’t do it all the time. I need to be here.”

Tessa paused mid-scroll, not looking up. “Okay, go on. You’ll eventually get to the part where you realize the obvious solution.”

"Oh, what—I just clone myself?" I said, folding my arms.

Tessa finally looked up, and for once, there was no smirk. “You’ve been outgrowing this place for a while. You just didn’t want to admit it.”

“I love the rescue. This is where I belong.”

“No one said you didn’t belong,” she said, her voice softer now. “You’ve had other plans before. Bigger ones. Just because youbuilt something good here doesn’t mean it’s the only place you can shine."

I didn’t answer right away. I just sat there, staring at the chipped edge of my mug, wondering if it was time to stop treating those old dreams like they’d expired. Maybe I could pick something off that old list of dreams. Maybe this could work.

“Where would I even start?”

Tessa looked at me, puzzled. “Start what?”

I let out a short laugh. ”Sorry, I was thinking about all those ideas that have been circling inside my head. You know the big city dog shelter, the therapy animal non-profit. I don’t know anyone there” I said, as I chewed on a pen I don't remember picking up. "It's a big leap going somewhere totally new."

Tessa’s fingers hovered over her screen for a beat. Then she set the phone down slowly and looked at me. "Then you need to find someone who does. Someone with lots of connections."

"Someone like Colton’s dad." Tessa looked pleased with herself.

I blinked. "You’re joking."

She didn’t even flinch. "Why would I be? He’s connected, he knows the city, and whether you like it or not, he knows who you are."

“He also probably thinks I’m a distraction,” I muttered.

“Maybe. Or maybe he thinks you’re the reason his son finally got his act together. Either way, he’ll take the call.”

I knew she was right. Why did it feel like I was going to break out in hives?

He answered on the second ring. And just like that, everything stopped being hypothetical.

***

The arena was packed.

Every seat pulsed with energy—scarves waving, jerseys everywhere, the low hum of anticipation vibrating through the floor as I stepped into the main concourse. I pulled my hood down and adjusted the strap on my bag, trying to remember how breathing worked.

My ticket said lower bowl, center ice. VIP seating, according to the woman at the gate. Courtesy of Colton’s father. I hadn’t expected him to offer them, let alone invite me to sit with him. But when I got the message—one ticket reserved under my name—I didn’t hesitate.

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