Page 17

CHAPTER 17

OLLIE

B y the time the bus arrives and pulls into the parking lot back at the arena, it’s already eight o’clock in the morning. The whole team looks like zombies, shuffling off the bus with bags slung over shoulders, bleary-eyed and barely functional. But we’ve got tux fittings lined up first thing for the mayor’s ball tomorrow, and there’s no getting out of it. Especially when Anna arranged for the tailor to come to us. Charity is charity, and we need to do our part.

I drop my bag in the locker room, run a hand through my hair, and groan when I catch my reflection in the mirror. My black eye is long gone, but I still look like I’ve been in a fight—with the bus, sleep deprivation, and maybe a bear.

“Hey, you’re looking good,” Dixon calls from across the room, his grin way too wide for this hour. “You bringing that mug to the ball?”

“Jealousy isn’t a good look, Dix,” I fire back, grabbing my phone to distract myself.

While we wait for the tailor to set up, I shoot off a quick text to Anna.

Just landed. Team tux fitting at the arena. You up?

Barely. Did you even sleep?

Nah. Sleep’s overrated.

Lies. Text me after?

Yeah, I’ll come by when we’re done.

It’s a simple conversation, but I find myself grinning at my phone like an idiot. Even half-asleep, Anna’s quick wit and sarcasm manage to make me feel like I’ve got all the energy in the world.

“You’re smiling at your phone,” Sawyer says, appearing beside me. “Anna, or did you finally get a good meme?”

“The former.” I shove the phone back in my pocket.

“Uh-huh,” he says, smirking.

Dixon leans against his locker, adding, “Another event. I’d rather be home watching TV, fellas, than hanging with you another day.”

Before I can shoot back another sarcastic reply, my phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out, expecting another message from Anna, but instead, Mia’s name lights up the screen.

I swipe to answer. “What’s up?”

“Where are you?” she asks, skipping any kind of greeting. Her voice is sharp, laced with that edge she only gets when something’s really wrong.

“Just got back. Why?”

I can hear a cacophony of sounds behind her, evidence that she must be in a café somewhere.

“I need you at Claire’s. Now. It’s important.”

“What’s going on?” I ask, but she doesn’t answer. “Mia?”

“Just get here, Ollie,” she says, and the line goes dead before I can push for more.

I lower the phone, staring at the screen for a second.

“What’s up?” Dixon asks, watching me curiously.

“Mia,” I say, shoving my phone into my pocket and grabbing my bag. “She needs me now.”

“You bailing on the tux fitting?” Sawyer raises an eyebrow. It’s one that needs plucking, too.

“Not like I want to,” I mutter, already heading toward the door. “Cover for me?”

Stockton smirks. “Don’t worry. We’ll make sure the tailor saves the worst one for you.”

Dixon laughs, and I find a pair of dirty socks to toss at them as I push out the door. Whatever Mia needs, it must be serious. She wouldn’t call me like this if it wasn’t.

And even though I should probably text Anna again, let her know I might be late, my head’s already at Claire’s. She’ll understand. At least, I hope she will.

Claire’s is a quiet café tucked into the corner of an old shopping center on the outskirts of town. Nestled between a nail salon and an old, closed-down Blockbuster video store that never found a new tenant, it’s the kind of place where the coffee’s strong, the booths are cracked but comfortable, and everyone seems to know your name.

I spot Mia right away, sitting in a booth near the back with an older man I don’t recognize. She waves me over, her face tight with worry.

Sliding into the booth, I glance between them. “What’s going on? You okay?”

“This is Les,” Mia says, introducing the man across from her. He’s older, with a lined face that speaks of hard years and sharp eyes that seem to take in everything at once. “He used to be a part of GA, but he was also one of Dad’s closest friends.”

“Was?” I echo, my stomach tightening.

Les leans forward, his hands wrapped around a steaming mug of coffee. “Your dad’s in a bad way, kid. I saw him this morning, and he’s spiraling. Worse than I’ve seen before.”

“He’s in town?” I sit back, exhaling slowly. This isn’t news—not really—but hearing it out loud still feels like a punch to the gut.

“I called Mia,” Les continues. “Didn’t know who else to turn to, but I didn’t think she should deal with this alone.”

“Thanks for letting us know,” I say, my voice stiff.

Les nods, then pauses, like he’s choosing his words carefully. “I’ve been where he is. I know what it looks like. And I hate to say it, but there’s only one thing you can do now: cut him off. Let him hit bottom. Let him get better in his own time, not yours.”

Mia’s eyes glisten, and I can feel the weight of her unspoken questions pressing against me.

“That’s easier said than done,” I admit, my voice rough.

“I know,” Les says simply. “But if you keep trying to save him, all you’re doing is enabling him.”

The words land like a stone in my chest. I glance at Mia, her face pale but set. She nods once, almost imperceptibly, and I know she’s come to the same conclusion I have.

We sit in silence for a moment, the clatter of dishes and murmurs of conversation filling the air around us.

“You know,” Les says after a beat, his tone lightening, “your dad used to talk about you all the time, Ollie. Said you had a heart as big as this diner.” He smiles faintly. “I’ve followed your career, but that heart of yours, that’s why you’re here now, isn’t it? Why you volunteer with those folks in Gamblers Anonymous?”

I nod, swallowing hard. “Feels close to home.”

Les leans back, a hint of pride in his gaze. “It’s good work. Keep doing it.”

I glance at Mia, who squeezes my hand under the table.

The waitress drops the check on the table, and I grab it before anyone else can. “I’ve got it.”

Les waves me off. “Stop it, kid.”

“Nope, allow me,” I reply. “Thank you for telling us. Can I ask where you saw him?”

I can feel Mia’s eyes searing a hole into me as she watches my every move. She knows why I’m asking. I need to brace myself, and possibly Anna, for him to appear suddenly.

“I have my own limo service, chauffeuring. I picked him up at the airport when he landed from Boston.” He chuckles. “He was as surprised to see me as I was to see him.”

“Where did he have you take him?” Mia asks, tentatively.

“That’s the thing. He wasn’t happy with me when he left my car. He booked me to take him to a casino on the other side of Richmond, but instead, I took him to Harmony Hills.”

I almost spit out my water. “The rehab?”

Les nods. “I let him out and told him if he wants to ever have a crack at living again, he needs to think about checking in there. Then I took his money for the ride and left him.”

My lips twitch. “That’s the best place he could be.”

“If he stays,” Les says, while Mia nods in agreement.

“Do you think he’s hit rock bottom?”

“Kid, he looked it.” Les shrugs, stretching his hands out in front of him. As he does, I notice his fingertips are stained yellow, probably from a gluttonous amount of cigarettes over the years. One thing I learned from the guys at GA is that leaving behind gambling, and usually drinking, some of them will have smoking as the only vice left. And boy do they hold onto it as long as they can. “I pray it was his rock bottom so he can start going up from here.”

Mia lets out a rush of air. “Well, only time will tell. His MO is to get in touch with Ollie, usually to ask for money.”

“When he does, Ollie, stick to your guns.” Les looks at Mia. “You, too. And warn your siblings, even your mom. He could come knocking on everyone’s door. I’m glad you both agreed to see me. I know it’s…a lot.”

The three of us peel ourselves from our seats in the booth and rise to leave. Mia and I exchange a look, and for the first time all morning, I feel a flicker of something that might be hope.

As we step outside into the crisp morning air, I glance back at the café, the weight of Les’s advice settling into place. My dad’s path is his own, but mine? Mine is to keep moving forward. And right now, that means talking to someone about all of this. I want this person to hear me, to tell her about what just happened, and I want to hear what she has to say, too.

I want to find Anna.