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"Did he hit you?" Brock asked. She shook her head and we let out a collective breath.
"No, I'd have left earlier if he had," she said. "Or I'd like to think I would. Nothing had ever escalated quite so intensely as it did that night. It only did because he was desperate. He couldn't talk me out of leaving. I threatened a few times but I'd never packed my bags. Roscoe was the last straw."
A quick smile flickered over Brock's face. He was already on the case but he wouldn't get her hopes up before he was absolutely sure.
"I'm glad you're here," I said. "Though, I'm sorry about what sent you home."
She let out a small, humorless laugh.
"I honestly never thought I'd end up back home. My plans for my future were so big when I left, then he drained the life out of me. I'm kind of glad now. It's my chance to find myself again. I feel like I missed out on so much. Plus, I didn't know how much Dad needed me."
"We didn't know how bad it was either, I can't believe someone trashed the place like that," Brock said. His anger matched mine and Elias's. It was a second home for us at this point, we'd been with Coach Slade for going on three years now. For me, he was a second dad. Though if I dated his daughter that might change. He was the type of dad to be waiting with a shotgun, especially after what he’d just saved her from.
"He said it wasn't the first time," she said, putting down her food and staring at her plate. "I found something in his drawer."
We all stopped eating. My stomach clenched at the worry on her face.
"What was it?" I prompted.
"Someone offered him an insane amount of money for the rink," she admitted. "He hasn't obviously agreed to it yet, but that offer is... insane to turn down."
"What?" Brock growled. "He can't."
She gave a sympathetic smile.
"I feel the same, but I wonder if he's just not able to keep up or something. I've been doing files and there's a lot of bills to cover and not a ton of revenue coming in. Ticket sales have dipped."
"This is why you've been working like you are," Elia said, not as a question, just stating facts.
"Yeah," she admitted. "I wanted to make sense of it all. I've got a list of things I want to try to drum up sales and maybe a few team fundraisers. I don't know if he'll go for it or not but I just want to help. That and we're getting new cooks and cleaning staff in. Everyone seems to be getting poached for the new rink. They likely pay a lot more than we can manage."
"Wait, would catering work?" Brock asked, perking up.
"Maybe if they can handle the schedule," she said. "Do you know someone?"
"I just might," he said. "Give me your phone for a second?"
She pulled it out of her pocket and handed it over. He flicked it open and a second later all three of our phones dinged. He slid it back to her.
"I've added us into a group chat. Send me the details and I might send someone your way if she's game. I'll let you know."
"Oh, thanks," she said, popping a fry into her mouth and chewing it thoughtfully. "I have to do something. Growing up, that rink was home. I learned to skate on that ice, played girls' hockey, and cheered on Dad's teams, you get the idea."
"Why did you leave then?" I asked, curious.
"Just wanted to see the world a bit more, I guess." She shrugged. "It felt too much like something I had to do. Maybe I needed to go live my life a bit to realize it was where I wanted to be. I'm no coach but running the rink, doing the business side, and helping keep the rink in the family, feels right."
"Then we'll figure out how to make it happen."
Again she was surprised by our offer to help her. She was going to learn very quickly just how serious we were when we set our sights on something. She was ours, and by extension, so was this problem. We'd do everything in our power to make sure that we saved the business.
One way to do that was to play our hearts out.
The other was to figure out how to convince Coach Slade to not give up on us just yet.
ChapterNine
Macy
