Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 55760 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55760 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
I blinked at the salary he recited. Almost twice what I’d been paid in Charleston. “Wow.”
Gary sat back and rested his arms on either side of the booth, looking like the cat who’d caught the canary. I supposed he had a right to ’cause…damn, this was more than I’d dreamed of, but it was also…weird. My sexuality had never factored into my game. Ever.
“I know. It’s a doozy of a deal. All you need to do is sign my contract, and I’ll release the Tritons’ contract to you. Sign away and you’ll be in La-La land by January first. We do everything electronically now.” He typed on his iPad. “Gimme your email address, and I’ll have my secretary send you my contract. If you check your phone in five minutes, we should be able to wrap this up before the bill arrives. Hell, I’ve been doing a lot of talking. I need another Diet Coke…and then, I have a plane to catch. Want anything?”
“No, thank you.” I shook my head and fiddled with my cell, glancing from the diner’s starburst chandeliers, sleek counters, and tasteful wreaths hanging from velvet ribbons on the windows.
The diner was a mainstay of my youth. It was catty-corner from the bakery and had been a traditional family breakfast spot for the Henderson clan and a hang out spot for high school jocks. Coach Moore’s family restaurant was known even then for its amazing shakes and fries. Thankfully, he’d almost always been at the rink, but we'd still had to keep the shenanigans to a minimum. Mrs. Moore would report back to the big guy, and no one wanted to be on Coach’s bad side.
However, if neither Moore was around, we’d blow paper wads from straws, toss french fries at each other’s heads, and generally act like hooligans.
None of that would fly in the new Elmwood Diner. This place, like so much of the town, had undergone an extensive renovation. It was a fine dining establishment that just happened to serve burgers…along with fancy farm-to-table fare. Nolan Moore and JC ran a tight ship, too. God help the stupid teenager who ended up facing JC after getting caught throwing sugar packets at their buddies.
I smiled at the thought and looked over at Rise and Grind again. When I was a kid, it had been a donut shop…and not a very good one. Nothing like what Ivan had—
“Oh, I’m grabbing a latte as soon as we’re done here.” Gary pointed out the window, following my gaze. “That place is amazing. The barista made a funky-ass looking lump and called it a wreath, but I gotta tell you, it’s the best latte I’ve had in Vermont. Hands down.”
I nodded in agreement. “Definitely the best.”
“Check your email again. You should have the contract now,” Gary instructed.
I started to obey, but turned my cell over and pushed it away instead. “I don’t think so.”
He blinked in surprise. “You need to think about it? I understand. It’s Christmas Eve and it’s a lot of info. Read through it, talk to Vinnie, your family, your lawyer…whoever, and get back to me the day after the holidays, so we can—”
“That won’t be necessary. Thank you for the offer, but…I’m staying here.” I slid out of the booth and held my hand out, shaking his while he gaped at me like a fish out of water.
“Here?” he repeated. “I don’t get it. Vinnie said you were ready. He said you were biding your time and chomping at the bit to get on the ice. This is a good deal, Court. You’re not going to see another one like it.”
“You’re right and I appreciate your time, but things have changed and I think I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be. Thank you.”
I slipped a few twenties into our waitress’s hand on my way to the exit, then pushed the door open and took my first truly unfettered breath since I’d first come home.
I hurried across the street to Rise and Grind. According to the barista, a short blond kid with freckles and a nose ring, Ivan was visiting Stacy. I popped into the bakery, but my mom had taken the day off so after hassling Annie about her sweater and her Santa hat got old, I checked over at the coffee shop again and ended up leaving a text for Ivan to call me.
Three hours later, I still hadn’t heard from him. It was Christmas Eve, and he was probably swamped at the coffee shop. Or was he? Did Elmwood really drink that much fucking caffeine on a holiday? And didn’t they close early like everyone else? I ate my weight in peppermint bark and watched sports highlights while I waited for him to call.
Nothing.
The only one blowing up my phone was Vinnie, who wanted to know what the fuck happened. Gary was pissed, Vinnie was confused, and I was…perfectly fine. But I owed Vin an explanation, and I’d call him as soon as I talked to Ivan.