“Enjoy your family while you have them close.”
Laughter touched her ears through the glass, and a heavy sadness filled her. She found Rafe again just as Dmitri skated into him. Rafe grabbed the boy and fell backward, lying on the ice and holding Dmitri over him, tickling the boy into fits of giggles.
A wave of emotion overwhelmed her. She turned her back to the rink and covered her face with both hands. Tears leaked from beneath her lashes. “Shit.” She took a breath. Another. “Shit, shit, shit.”
Mia grabbed hold of her emotions before they completely unraveled, and focused on the big picture. Sliding her hands down to clear her eyes, she stared blankly out the front glass doors to the parking lot.
“I can do this,” she whispered to herself.
Her mind darted to other options, but there were no other options. DC was the antithesis of fashion friendly. Her only choice for a decent career was to go back to the fashion industry in New York. Where she couldn’t afford to live. Where there was snow and humidity and wall-to-wall people. Where she would work for yet another elitist designer, stifled by being forced to design in their mold. Even in LA, Mia could afford a decent place to live on her own. She already had a friend there. And her job would be exciting and challenging. The things she’d learn would make her stand out among the competition.
This was the right choice. It might not feel like it emotionally, but logically, she’d weighed out the pros and the cons dozens of times before she’d made the jump. Now she needed to trust herself.
She nodded, closed her eyes, and wiped the tears that fell. “I can do this. I’ll be fine.”
Mia shook off the gloom and reentered the arena. Cold hit her face, and laughter touched her ears. The knowledge that she wouldn’t be back to participate in another skate like this anytime soon created an ache beneath her ribs. But she’d been through enough transitions in life to know these feelings were normal and that eventually she’d adjust.
She took off her blade guards, and as soon as she glided onto the ice, Lily Croft skated over to show Mia how much the one-foot spin she’d taught the girl had improved. By the time Lily had executed the move, Amy and Rachel were there, demanding to show Mia what they’d learned. Soon, Sarah was standing beside Mia. And Rafe glided into the group as well. He hung back, letting the girls have the spotlight while Sarah and Mia talked, but his presence felt like a tight wire all through her body.
“Fair warning,” Sarah told Mia as they all cheered the girls. “Every woman here is jealous of every other woman’s jersey. You’re going to get hit with a dozen requests by the time you leave.”
Mia pulled her gaze off Rachel trying to perfect her waltz jump, deliberately kept her eyes off Rafe, and told Sarah, “By the sound of the conference call I just had, I’m not going to have time for anything but breathing in this new job. Everyone’s going to have to find another source for their cute jerseys.”
Rachel, Amy, and Lily had joined hands and were doing front crossover steps in a circle. Until one of them misstepped, and all of them ended up in a heap on the ice. Sarah moved in to untangle the laughing bundle, and Rafe came up beside Mia.
“Hey, beautiful.” His low voice sizzled over her skin. He skated a slow circle around her, those gray eyes smoldering with too many emotions for her to figure out.
“Hey, yourself.”
On the next pass, his hand closed gently on her bicep and pulled her along the ice away from the kids. “Skate with me? I’m pretty sure you’ve already skated with everyone else here.”
Which, evidently, somehow made it safe for him to skate wit
h her now.
She let another pang of disappointment ebb, and when he slid his hand down her arm, Mia closed her fingers around his. She fought the curl of pleasure in her belly, the softening of her heart, but that was futile. He’d been able to turn her inside out since she’d been a teenager.
He sped up, turned, and skated backward in front of her, holding out his other hand for hers. When she laid it in his and met his eyes, his smile rewarded her.
“How was your call?” he asked.
“Fine.” When she heard her own melancholy, she added, “Good. Exciting. Terrifying. They sound great, even invited me to a work party they’re having this week to celebrate the completion of an episode. I thought that was nice, considering I don’t even work there yet. But I like the idea that they celebrate every episode, not waiting for an entire line to be produced to have a party, you know? I wish I could have gone to meet them in person for the interview, but…” She shrugged. “I’m sure it will work out fine.”
“I think that’s a good idea.”
Mia pulled herself into an easy forward skate. Rafe’s backward skate remained a fluid, graceful glide. God, she’d missed this. Missed just being with him. No pressure. No problems. At least none in the moment. “You think what’s a good idea?”
“Meeting them before you start working. I also think Sarah’s right about the jerseys. I’d like to see you pursue that.”
She laughed. “Then you must not have heard me say my job is going to be—”
“Demanding. I heard. Which makes me wonder when you’re going to stop working and start living. Your last three jobs were just as all-consuming.”
“Says the man drowning in hockey eight months out of the year,” she told him.
“We train hard, play hard, but it doesn’t take over our lives. We get breaks because the coaches know that working us too hard consistently leads to fatigue and burnout and injuries. There’s a difference between hard work and unhealthy work.”
“There’s also this thing called paying your dues. And I’m not a superstar like some people who get to call their own shots.”