Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 64493 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 258(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64493 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 258(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
I cocked my head. “How long are you staying?”
“Through the summer…I think.”
“Then you should coach for Ronnie.”
Vinnie widened his eyes comically. “You think I should do it. Why?”
“Ronnie could use a break. If that’s you…so be it,” I said flatly.
He furrowed his brow hard enough to give himself a headache. “Now I’m really suspicious.”
“Don’t be. It’s a simple proposition.”
“But?”
I sipped my coffee thoughtfully before setting the mug on the counter, my gaze locked on his. The ensuing stare-down was epic. Standing gave me a bit of an advantage, but Vinnie’d had years of practice intimidating opponents on the ice.
I finally looked away and leaned against the counter, arms crossed. “But…I think you’ll walk away when it gets tough or when you get a better offer, or when you just get bored of this place. Like you always do.”
“Ouch. That’s gonna leave a mark.”
“I’m not being a dick. I’m being honest. Your life isn’t here…Ronnie’s is. You can walk away whenever you want and not lose a thing. It’s a little different for the rest of us,” I continued conversationally.
“And this is the part where you’re not being a dick?”
“Trust me, it is,” I huffed. “Just to give you a little background, Ronnie took on a boatload of debt and has been in over his head since he convinced the Thompsons to sell him the rink five years ago. He’d been treading water, trying to keep it going while raising his daughter on his own. The effort is paying off, but he still isn’t quite there. Sure, an influx of money would help immediate concerns, but Ronnie is convinced that your star power will do the trick.”
“And what do you think?”
“He’s probably right. Shaking things up is the only way to succeed.”
“It seems to have worked here,” he commented, swiveling on his bar stool.
“Exactly. I took a chance by bringing Jean-Claude in. No one in town liked my plan. I can’t tell you how many times I was told that my poor dad was rolling over in his grave. They gave JC a wide berth at first—friendly but not too friendly. But once they tasted his beignets, those same folks welcomed him with open arms. Of course, it helped that we kept most of the old menu too.” I lifted my forefinger. “Except for that terrible beet salad my dad loved.”
“Good call,” Vinnie hooted. “That was fuckin’ awful.”
His smile lit his eyes and catapulted him into a godlike level of handsome. It was so bright and unexpected, it took my breath away. Nineteen years ago, that unfettered grin would have melted me into a puddle of goo. He’d thrilled me and scared me, unintentionally throwing me into a new phase where self-doubt threatened everything in my world—my dreams, my escape plan, my sanity.
Dramatic, yet very fucking true.
But now I was back to neutral. I’d had a couple of days to get used to the idea of Vinnie being around and in spite of our awkward history, his presence didn’t have to affect me. He was just my brother’s best friend. That was it.
“More coffee?” I asked as my shoulders slipped a notch or two from my ears.
“Sure. Thanks.”
I refilled our mugs and slid a glass of water to him, letting him redirect the conversation back to Ronnie and the rink. He asked a dozen or more questions about the youth league programs, peppering in memories from the days my dad coached us. Vinnie was animated, amusing, and seemingly unperturbed by my stiff cordiality. I told myself this was good practice if he was going to be around all summer, but ten minutes of overly polite conversation was my limit. I was just too aware of this man.
Damn it.
“Sorry, but…I should get to work,” I said apologetically.
“No problem.” He set a twenty on the table and stood. “Thanks for the coffee.”
“It’s on the house,” I insisted, pushing the money toward him.
“No, no. I support local businesses. Keep the change.”
His over-the-top wink practically begged me to roll my eyes, but I had more to say. We had to clear the air…at least a little.
“Um…hey, even if you don’t make it through summer, your presence alone is good for business for the whole town. ‘NHL Hero Comes Home’ and all that bullshit. If you don’t mind the attention, and I’m assuming you don’t—come help out at the rink. It’s easy and fun. You won’t regret it.”
Vinnie rubbed his scruffy jaw thoughtfully. “Okay. I’ll do it.”
I smiled tentatively and raised my hand for a high five. “Great.”
“But only if you’re my assistant.”
“What?” I pulled my hand away before he could slap it, furrowing my brow. “No way. Gavin is perfectly capable of—”
“Nope. It has to be you.”
I frowned. “Why?”
“ ’Cause…” Vinnie blew out an exasperated breath. “I want to fix this. Me and you. And I can’t do that if you ignore me.”