Page 9 of Just One Season
“You’re not going to answer the question?”
“How about our father is deeply insecure about DC FC being perceived as less prestigious than European soccer teams, so it would be a great way to piss himoff?”
“I can always get behind that.” We order our coffees and step aside while the baristas prepare our drinks.
Ever since he was old enough to understand what happened between our parents, Atticus and our father have not gotten along.
Mom left Richard after she found him cheating with a twenty-five-year-old woman. Atticus was one and I was five. It was incredibly painful for her at the time, but I believe our mom has led a much happier life than she would have with our father.
We stayed outside of Washington D.C. after the divorce, spending some weekends with my father. But when I left for college, Atticus refused to even do that.
And as soon as Atticus was out of the house, Mom bought a small vineyard a few hours south into Virginia. She’s got her wine and her friends and a boyfriend on occasion, plus a whole lot of money from the divorce.
She’s never wanted to remarry.
Our father was divorced from wife number two within a year of remarrying.
“So. Interested in adopting a dog?”
“No way, Luce! I really hope that’s not your plan.” Atticus crinkles his nose. “I stepped in dog pee on the carpet the other day. Warm dog pee. Do you know how disgusting that is?”
“Yes, I do.” I’ve done that several times since arriving in Fort Collins a week ago. “But you know all about dog parades, and you could probably bring him to the arena?—”
“That worked out great yesterday.”
“—and you can definitely afford to have someone dog sit while you’re traveling. And look at that cute face.”
We both glance down at Zeus, who’s sitting angelically by my feet, tongue sticking out of his mouth, staring up at me with hearts in his eyes.
“Nope. I will no longer entertain this conversation.”
I shrug. I didn’t really expect Atticus to take Zeus. It was just one possibility to now cross off thelist.
We accept our coffees and step through to A Good Book. I linger right inside the doorway at a local authors shelf, touching a romance book calledLove on the Slopes.My brother scoffs as he picks up a different romance novel with a girl in the arms of a bull standing on two feet on the cover.
“What in the hell is this?” He looks up.
“Hey, don’t yuck on other people’s yum, dude.”
“I should buy it for Lachlan. He reads all this romance shit.” Atticus shakes his head. “But really, who finds this—” then he stops speaking. I follow his gaze, which is directed back into the cafe.
“What? Who’s there?”
Atticus tugs me by the arm over to the thriller bookshelf tucked against the wall.
“That’s Paul and Savannah Harrison.”
“Ohhh, no way.” I peek around the bookshelf and take in the couple at the front of the line. The man is tall with a full head of gray hair, sharp lines to his face giving subtle villain vibes, but definitely handsome. The woman next to him is at least a foot shorter and pretty in a high maintenance way, wearing expensive black leggings and a lacy tank top with a fitted jacket over top.
“They come in here every morning at about this time,” Atticus murmurs. “I’m assuming it’s every morning, because I’m in here at least twice a week before heading to the arena, and they always seem to show up.”
I observe the couple for a few more seconds. “He looks exactly like someone our father would be friends with.”
“Right? I’m positive there’s an actual Rich White Guy Team Owner club somewhere.”
I snicker, because it’s funny, even though it’s not really.
The only downside to coming to Fort Collins to work for the Blizzard is that our father is friends with Paul Harrison, the team owner. That connection is seriously unfortunate. That and thefact that my brother plays for the Blizzard indicates I’m not really forging a brand-new path here.
