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“And what?” Bobbi said quietly. “You’ll treat Dad to an afternoon at The Grill, where you’ll drink yourself into oblivion or snort something illegal? And then you’ll leave him behind once he gets in the way. Once Matt Hawkins walks through the door and all rational thought flies out of your pretty little head because some guy is paying attention to you?”

“You’re such a bitch,” Betty ground out.

Bobbi heard her grandfather sigh and took a moment to control her emotions. Now wasn’t the time to get into it with her sister. “At least I’m an honest bitch.”

She kissed Herschel on the cheek and whispered, “Sorry,” before giving her dad a quick hug. About to leave the kitchen she nailed Betty with a no-nonsense look. “There’s laundry to be done if you can fit it into your day.”

“I’ll check my schedule,” Betty retorted.

“You do that.”

“You didn’t tell us where you’re going,” Betty said swiveling around to watch Bobbi near the door. Her gaze moved up and down as Bobbi smoothed her hands over her hips, her fingers trailing across the pale grey wool skirt. Form fitting and cut to the knee, it was offset with classic black pumps, a plum colored turtleneck and a silk scarf around her neck in a deeper plum with slivers of black and grey running through it.

“I’ve got a job interview,” Bobbi said dryly. “Something you might want to think about.”

She grabbed her long, black dress coat from the front closet, and her purse and leather gloves before heading out into the crisp, cold morning. Thankfully, the sun was warm enough to have melted the frost and white stuff from her windshield.

Sunglasses lessened the brilliant play of sunlight on the snow and after letting the vehicle warm up for a few moments, she left. Her interview was for ten o’clock in the city—nearly forty minutes away—and she’d given herself an extra half an hour for traveling time.

Traffic was heavier than usual due to road conditions, but she reached her destination with ten minutes to spare. The Barrel & Chadwick law firm had an opening for a junior law clerk. Bobbi was hoping that with her experience she would be a shoo-in.

As it was, she was more than a shoo-in, however, the pay wasn’t nearly enough and when she factored in driving time and the expense that went along with that, she wasn’t sure it was worth it. They were desperate for someone to start right away and after a great interview she was offered the job on the spot, with the caveat she would give an answer by evening.

Driving back into New Waterford took nearly as long as the drive into the city and by the time she pulled into a parking spot at the old arena, Bobbi was not in a good mood.

It was noon. She was hungry. And it would seem, still jobless.

Bobbi entered the arena that now housed her sister Billie’s hockey school. Cold, she shivered as she strolled through the lobby, her eyes on the ice. Billie was running a drill with a bunch of young men and a smile tugged at her mouth as a wave of pride rolled through her.

In the space of a few months her sister had built up a solid reputation as a great teacher. Her obvious skills, combined with her experience playing on two Olympic winning teams, as well as the pro league she’d played for in Europe, made it an easy win for the burgeoning school. Billie was busy all the time, with both private power skating lessons, groups sessions and team sessions for local junior players.

A ringing phone caught Bobbi’s attention and she crossed the lobby, heading toward her sisters office. She tossed her coat onto an ancient green and plaid sofa and silenced the shrill rings by picking up. She settled into the chair to wait for Billie to finish up with her session while she dealt with the call.

By twelve thirty she had fielded four more phone calls—three prospective students, an overzealous mother of a current one—and had placed an order for takeout Chinese. Thirsty, she checked Billie’s small fridge and winced at the sight of four bottles of Gatorade and nothing else.

Great.

She hated the stuff and her sister chugged it like it was the best thing ever. She grabbed a pink bottle figuring it had to taste better than the green one and returned to the chair behind the desk.

She’d just sat down when her sister walked into the room.

Billie whistled. “Wow, you clean up good. Looking a whole lot better than last week.”

Bobbi leaned back in the chair. “I had a job interview.”

“Oh?” Billie grabbed the green Gatorade and flopped onto the sofa. Dressed in a plain black track suit, she adjusted a towel around her shoulders and took a long drink, before wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “Where?”

“In the city.”

Billie made a face. “That’s a shitty commute.”

“I know.”

“Law office?”

She nodded. “Yes. It’s a pretty large firm and could be a great opportunity.”

“Are you going to take it?”

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