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Just so…Ollie

Sophie

By the time I got out to my workshop in the morning, Remy’s truck was gone. There was no sound from his dog, so I assumed they’d gone to doggy day care without any problems. Just as well, since Goober had slipped out the door this morning. I swore the cat was part ninja, the way she escaped.

Diane had insisted I take her partly finished guitar with me when I’d visited her, and I’d had an idea about what to do with it last night as I was driving home from our monthly luthier get-together.

I’d stopped at the carriage house to check it out, which was how I’d discovered that Beast was barking.

I’d messaged Cash’s assistant and got Remy’s phone number.

I wished I’d found out what Goober was doing before I’d bothered him, but I’d had no idea the cat was the instigator.

Last night that had distracted me, but now I could get to work.

I pulled out my notepad and sketched a couple of ideas, eyes moving from the guitar to the paper in front of me.

My first idea was simple, with the inlay on the headstock, but that seemed insufficient.

I tried a couple more, expanding the design to include the neck, winding among the frets.

I liked the last one best. It wasn’t quite right, but I thought it might lead to something. Something good. I wanted to add a variation on the usual star themes to make the guitar stand out, as much for the craftsmanship Diane was putting into it as for the inlay work.

Then I pushed the notepad aside while I let the idea rest and got back to work on the repair I had in front of me.

There was a crack in the top of an old Harmony Patrician guitar.

The original owner had passed, and his daughter had found it in his garage.

She wanted it restored, as long as it wasn’t going to cost a fortune.

She’d brought it into a music store, one I had a relationship with, and they’d called me since they didn’t do repairs, only setups.

The instrument had suffered from neglect, but not too badly.

The crack was the biggest issue. It was a lovely old instrument, and I was looking forward to bringing it back to its former glory.

I’d removed the strings and the bridge already. The crack was in the lower bout, and I’d need cleats to keep it in position while the glue set. I ran my fingers over the wood, smooth from years of handling. I slid my hand into the sound hole to feel out the extent of the crack.

I lost track of time as I carefully glued and clamped the instrument, grateful for my narrow hands. It wasn’t till someone rapped on the door that I realized it was lunchtime.

“Soph?”

The voice was familiar. I straightened up and turned to greet my ex. “Ollie. Hi.”

He grinned at me and I couldn’t resist grinning back. He was just so…Ollie. He’d been the all-American boy growing up: blond hair, blue eyes, dimples when he smiled.

I sometimes wondered if he’d chosen to be a goalie partly so he always had a full mask on his face to protect his nose and teeth.

Because those all-American looks had led to endorsements.

Ollie was smart, and he’d had his father’s experience in professional sports to help him.

He’d had a plan for his career from the time he was in high school and being watched by scouts.

With what he’d earned while playing, and the endorsements, he’d been financially set without relying on his dad after he was injured and had to retire.

That was when he moved on to his plan for his personal life, the part that included family and coaching.

When that didn’t work out as he’d liked, he revised again.

Without me. I hadn’t been as upset as I expected, which proved his point.

The lack of passion had made remaining friends possible.

I mentally shook myself. That was the past. I didn’t need to dwell on it.

“I figured you’d have forgotten lunch. I brought Millie’s.”

On cue, my stomach rumbled. He knew I loved BBQ. I checked the time, and he was right—I’d totally forgotten eating. I set the guitar safely in the middle of the bench and stretched. It felt good to loosen up the muscles. “Thanks. Come on in. I’ve got some water in the fridge.”

Ollie perched on a chair at the second workbench and dropped the bag of food on it. I brought over water bottles and sat beside him, letting my body relax after hours of tension.

“What are you working on?” he asked as he pulled out some takeout boxes.

“A Harmony. Belonged to the client’s dad, and she found it after he died.”

Oliver frowned at it. “Is it worth it?”

I grabbed utensils and opened the container.

The smell of smoked meat teased my nose.

“She should be able to sell this for more than she’s paying to get it repaired, but I don’t think it’s a financial thing.

She has fond memories of her dad playing the guitar.

Even if the cost had been more than resale value, I think she’d have approved the estimate. ”

“Is it collectible?” Ollie knew very little about music and guitars. It always bewildered me how he and my brother were such good friends when Ollie was a musical philistine. Hockey had been enough to bond them, apparently.

“Not really. Too many were made to make it rare.”

Ollie turned his attention to his meal. “But things are going good?”

I nodded. For a moment I considered telling him about Diane’s offer, but no. Ollie didn’t know the business and had no idea if this was something I could handle. He’d tell me to ask Cash, and I already knew what he would say.

So I turned the conversation back to him. “How’s it going with the team?”

He set his food down. “We’ve just started training camp.”

I nodded, but all I knew of training camp was what Ollie told me.

It was enough for him to launch into an explanation.

He was mostly pleased. Had high hopes for the goalie they’d drafted in June, and less high hopes for the two kids up from the farm team.

I’d always thought that was an odd term—when I was a kid I’d pictured promising hockey players hanging around on a literal farm and splitting their time between chores and hockey games.

Fortunately I’d figured it out before I said something stupid and Cash would never let me live it down.

I was eager to hear what Ollie had to say about Remy, but didn’t want to ask.

If he didn’t know, which I suspected, I wasn’t sure how he’d feel about the man living upstairs from my shop.

Ollie wasn’t possessive—hadn’t been when we were together and hadn’t shown any signs of it when we split up. But Remy was different.

“Trying to replace Pahlsson won’t be easy, even though we’re working with Keats and Lappy. But the wrench in the works is that the team brought in Remy to mentor the rookie.”

I didn’t let on I knew anything about this.

“They didn’t ask you about a new goalie?

” I hadn’t realized that Remy had been brought onto the team without Ollie’s knowledge.

Which made him knowing about Remy’s current home less likely.

In that case, I wanted to find just the right way to let Ollie know what was going on.

He shook his head. “I get what they wanted. Lappy is hyper, impulsive, and Remy is the opposite. He’s got years of experience, and from what I’ve heard around the league, he works hard. He should be a good model for the kid, but…”

Yes, but. Back when Ollie was drafted and started playing, he and Remy were rivals.

Ollie took it very seriously. He’d felt it, the times Remy beat him on the big stage, in large part because of his dad rubbing it in.

Over and over. All the wins and accolades Ollie got later weren’t enough to wipe out the sting of those losses.

Why his father had to continue to compare his and his son’s sporting successes I didn’t understand, but he harped on it all the time.

I’d suggested Ollie ask him to stop, but apparently that would prove to his dad that he couldn’t take it. Stupid testosterone.

“Did you tell them he wasn’t a good fit with you?”

He drew back. “I’m a professional. I can handle players even if I’m not friends with them. I’m not going to whine and say I don’t like the guy and won’t work with him.”

I could hear those words in his dad’s voice. “But shouldn’t they ask for your input?”

“When Pahlsson retired with almost no notice, they panicked. Dad had taken me on that deep-sea fishing trip, so I was out of touch for a couple of days.” He shrugged.

“They went ahead and made the decision they thought would help the team. I’m the new guy.

I told them I’d prefer to be involved in any goalie decisions, but I have to prove myself before I have enough clout that they’ll wait for me. ”

I thought he was entitled to push back on that. But I wasn’t part of the hockey world, and Ollie was chewing on his thumbnail which meant he was stressed. Time for distraction. “How do you think the rest of the team is going to do this year?”

Ollie was hopeful. He saw a lot of promise in the players they had.

A young forward who’d been tearing things up at the college level had finally arrived and the team hoped he would be playing this season.

A guy named Miller was new, as was someone called Hanny.

Returning players were doing well. I let the words flow around me.

I scraped the last of the brisket from the container. I felt better for having had some food. It was thoughtful of Ollie to have brought something by. We weren’t good as a married couple, but we were good as friends.

He helped me gather the garbage and tossed it in the trash. “We’ve got a coaches’ meeting soon. I should get going.”

I slid my hands into my rear pockets. “Thanks for stopping by with lunch.”

“Happy to. I needed to clear my head, and I knew you’d be here.”

He hugged me, warmly but without a hint of passion, and had just turned to leave when we heard a vehicle coming up the drive.

Ollie cocked his head. “Customer?”

I normally didn’t let customers come to the shop because of Cash’s privacy and security needs. Only a few people knew the gate code. The staff, none of whom were working today, me and Dad, Ollie, Cash. And now, Remy.

Damn. I’d hoped this moment could be postponed. For as long as possible. That maybe in a week or two when things were settled down I could let Ollie know how it happened and he wouldn’t freak.

I braced myself. “Actually, it’s probably our new tenant.”

Ollie frowned. “New tenant?”

He didn’t know. Damn it.

Maybe if Remy went straight up to the apartment, and Ollie didn’t recognize his vehicle, I could still put this off.

Just delay Ollie for a bit and let Cash tell him.

Reading between the lines, Ollie was pissed that the team had signed Remy without asking him.

Finding him here? Was going to piss him off further.

“Yes.” I prepared to distract him by overexplaining.

“Dad called a couple of days ago, asking why Cash wasn’t answering his phone.

You know what Cash is like when he’s in the studio.

Anyways, Dad had promised to help a friend.

They needed a place for someone to stay, someone with a dog, so options were limited. ”

“Who—” At least Ollie was looking at me. I heard the truck door open.

Just a little longer.

“Cash came up for air long enough to tell me he’d agreed to rent the place out. Neither of them considered that this would mess up my work schedule.” They didn’t take my work seriously. Ollie hadn’t been quite as bad, but he didn’t have any interest in my problem either.

He started toward the doorway. No, no, no!

I kept talking, hand out, as if that would stop him. “And since the guy’s dog and Goober are not getting along…”

A rap on the doorframe, and yep, this was happening.

“Remy?” Ollie sounded confused.

“Ott— I mean, Coach Trent?”

Ollie looked from Remy to me. I pasted on a smile, like this wasn’t awkward at all. “Turns out you know the new tenant.”