Wild Zone (Rough Riders Hockey 4)

He closed his eyes and rubbed at them, torn over what to do, while still believing it wasn’t his place to do anything. So he ended up offering a non-answer with, “I understand. Look I’ve got to run. I’m at practice. Thanks for the call.”

With a hasty goodbye, he disconnected and hung his head.

Fuck. He wished his dad hadn’t already left. Tate could really use his wisdom right now.

He pushed off the wall and turned toward the lounge. He’d have to think about this more later, after all these pre-teen boys went home.

13

“How long is mom going to avoid me?” Olivia asked Quinn where her sister worked beside her in the kitchen at Andrew Mullen Auditorium.

With two days until the banquet, Olivia was settling into the organization. She was stocking, making lists, creating a workflow. Quinn was taking charge of supplies, making sure there was enough dinnerware, glassware, table clothes, centerpieces. Finding and renting the equipment Olivia needed that wasn’t already in the kitchen.

Quinn had plugged her phone into portable speakers and a mix of pop and country floated through the space. While Olivia unloaded groceries into the refrigerator, Quinn stacked dishes on the shelves.

“If mom’s avoiding you, she’s avoiding me. I haven’t seen her for more than ten minutes over the last two days. We have a lot of new clients. She has to meet them all, organize them, make arrangements. She’s as busy as we are.”

That was a lie. Olivia had heard them talking downstairs the night before when they

thought she was asleep. They’d talked for hours. While Olivia lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, wondering if the secrets in their house would ever stop. Wondering what her life would have been like if her father hadn’t gotten sick. Wishing she’d gone to Tate’s for the night.

“How are you feeling about this?” Quinn asked. “Feel like you’re ready?”

Olivia nodded. “I’ve done everything we’re both doing now and more. I’ve been a sous chef for years. There were times when I had to fill in for the head chef—when they got sick or hurt or were just plain lazy-asses. Being the one where the buck stops for something this important and for someone this close to me is a little overwhelming. But, yeah, I’m ready. Nervous but ready.”

This was a great experience for her and it would go a long way toward adding to her confidence.

“You know,” she told Quinn broaching a subject that had been on her mind since she and Quinn had their breakthrough. “Le Cordon Bleu has management courses. Culinary business management, restaurant management, international hospitality.”

“Oh yeah?” she said in a way that told Olivia she wasn’t really listening.

“Yeah.” She finished with one grocery bag and started on another. “They even have a degree in wine and wine management. You used to be so passionate about wine, but I haven’t heard you talk about it much over the last few years.”

“Oh, you know. No time. No money.”

And conversation stalled again.

“Quinn.” She stopped putting groceries away and faced her sister. “What’s bothering you?”

She lifted her brow and shook her head. “Nothing, why?”

“Because I know you, and I know you get quiet when you’re stressed.”

A little smile lifted her lips. “Just a lot of work to get done.”

Another lie. Yes, there was a lot of work to do, but that wasn’t causing the level of stress Olivia felt rolling off Quinn in waves.

She focused on the fridge again, but when she reached in to organize some jars, her vision blurred with tears. She blinked quickly to banish them. Those had come out of nowhere, just bam. And she didn’t like being so close to the edge of her emotions.

Olivia’s mind immediately veered toward leaving. Her escape. Escape from the pain she felt whenever she came home. Escape from the loneliness she felt more with her family surrounding her than when she was alone in her flat in Paris.

She finished emptying the bag and closed the refrigerator door. Picking up her phone, she checked the time, then for a message from Tate. But there was nothing. Which was a little odd since his camp had gotten out about two hours ago.

She texted him. “Hey handsome. Is everything okay? Are we still on to go over the final menu? I have a couple of minor things I want to ask you about.” She paused and the hurt inside her gnawed. She added, “I miss you.”

“I miss you…” she whispered with the shake of her head.

Those words were so bizarre to her, yet they came so naturally with Tate. She had to send the message and shut her screen off so she didn’t give into the urge to text him, “And, I love you.”