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I drag my toes in the sand and smile. Our family might be a bit unconventional, but I’m damn happy anyway.
9
SCARLETT
Willow Barton is phenomenally talented—that much was made abundantly clear to me the moment I saw her on the ice this morning.
Not only does she skate with such a sense of agility and poise that would make any skater in their right mind jealous, but for someone so young, she carries herself with an experienced suave that immediately drew me to her.
I expected our first lesson to be a bit awkward, like most first meetings are, but it’s been the opposite. She’s more mature than most girls her age and shows that with her calm reactions to criticism and suggestions and excitement to step out of her box to try something new. And if she was at all nervous to meet me, she hid it exceptionally well.
Her bright, excited attitude also did wonders to help with my discomfort with being here. Standing on this ice, training—albeit someone other than myself—is unsettling.
It’s different than it was on the ice with Adam. It feels much more daunting, like I could fail at any given moment. This isn’t testing or a simple demonstration of what I can and can’t do. It isn’t even about me at all.
This is about Willow—her career and future. There’s no window for mistakes, and I feel that pressure like a weight on my back.
“Good!” I shout, clicking the stop button on the stopwatch in my palm. Willow immediately drops her stick to the ice and bends over to rest her hands on her knees. “That was better.”
“My mouth tastes like a welder’s hand,” she grumbles as I make my way over to her.
I chew on my bottom lip to stifle my laugh and pick the heavy black stick up off the ice, placing it at my side. Slipping the stopwatch back into my sweater pocket, I make a mental note of her time.
“It should. You worked your ass off today.”
She leans back, her hands gripping her hips. “Yeah, I did.”
“I’ve made a couple of changes to the original training plan,” I begin. Hopefully she won’t have an issue with what I have in mind. Nerves buzz below my skin as I reach up and toy with one of the strings on my sweater.
Adam’s lesson plans were a great place to start, but after spending this session studying Willow and slotting her strengths and weaknesses into their little boxes in my mind, I don’t think it’s best for her growth.
“You’re fast, Willow. Like really fast. I think we would be doing you a disservice here if we didn’t focus on making you even faster. You’re excelling in every other aspect, with no obvious weaknesses. So until I can spot something that needs to be improved, I think we need to be focusing on speed and conditioning.”
Her eyes widen, but she doesn’t look put off by the suggestion. That’s a good sign.
“Ultimately, it’s your decision. We work for you—I work for you. But I really do think this would be the best route for right now,” I finish on a breath.
I flinch, startled when another pair of skates cuts across the ice behind me. Did he really not think I could handle this on my own? The thought has me grinding my teeth.
Spinning around, I scowl at Adam. “Mr. White.”
Amusement flickers in his eyes. “Hello, Ms. Carter.” He turns to the skater beside me. “Willow.”
My grip on Willow’s stick turns punishing as I try my best to pretend I don’t want to swat my boss on the back of the head. But if his smug grin is anything to go by, he already knows that’s exactly what I’m thinking. Maybe that means I can do it—
“Hi, Adam. I didn’t know you were watching,” Willow says.
Me either.
Adam shakes his head. His twinkling eyes catch mine and hold as he says, “Just the past couple minutes. I was heading out for lunch and wanted to stop by and see how everything was going.” Oh. “It looked like Scarlett was doing a great job.”
“She was,” Willow confirms proudly.
A warm feeling fills my chest. “Thank you, Willow.”
“We were actually talking about changing my training plan,” she adds, and the warmth drops a few degrees, leaving a cold ache behind. Little traitor.
Adam lifts a brow. “Yeah? And what are we changing?”
