Page 8

Gwen

I ducked into a takeout café. It was cute and friendly, with simple offerings at reasonable prices. What I liked most was the meal board. There were a handful of places like this around the city.

People could pay for a meal and pin it on the board for someone else to have. If there was a meal available, you took it off the board, brought it to the register, and it was yours. The first thing I ever did when I got a windfall tip was to buy something for as many boards as I could.

Meals also could go quickly, which was why I was looking now, so I could pocket it, then return after coffee and grab something for dinner on my way back to the rink. While I got food at the rink, it wasn’t enough.

I didn’t feel comfortable sneaking into the Knight’s kitchen at the training center and making myself an actual meal, though I did grab snacks.

The place where the board had been was now a painting. Looking around, I didn’t spy it anywhere else. I went up to the register, since they weren’t busy.

“Um, did you move the meal board behind the register?” I bit my lower lip. The coffee shop had done that.

The woman, who I recognized, gave me a sympathetic look. “We got a new manager, and he got rid of it. Want me to see if there’s any messed up orders in the back?”

I shook my head. “It’s fine.”

If it was anything like Tito’s, they got to eat the messed up orders. I didn’t want to take food from anyone.

“Do you want me to buy you something?” A man came up behind me. I recognized him vaguely, like he was a regular or something.

“Thanks, but I’m fine. I get to eat at work later tonight. I’m just tired of hot dogs and nachos.” I grinned at him, then at the worker.

The worker grinned back. “I understand. Are you close? Maybe we could trade?”

“I work at the ice rink, which is a little far. Thanks anyway, and sorry for holding up the line.” I waved and hurried down the street. It was too bad they’d gotten rid of it.

However, I was curious about where Tenzin was taking me today. He’d told me to meet him in front of a department store. Maybe we were going to a hidden coffee shop. I’d gone to hidden bars before with my hockey team. It was a fun thing to do when we were at away games.

Tenzin waved at me, dressed nicely in khakis and a polo. I wore shorts and a tank-top that I’d thrown on after camp, my burgundy NYIT Hockey hoodie around my waist. I should hit the thrift stores and get a couple of sundresses or rompers for when we visited museums.

“Hi!” I waved.

“Shall we?” he asked. I nodded and followed him into Hardwicks. It was a very fancy department store that had been here for close to two centuries.

“Are we going to the food hall?” I perked as we went down the escalator. Sometimes I’d splurge and buy treats here. It was the best for making picnics.

He shook his head. “We can walk through after if you’d like. My sister wants a bear wearing a Hardwicks shirt.”

“I’m so curious.” I’d never really explored beyond the food hall, the holiday room, and bathrooms, because I couldn’t afford to shop here.

The entire store was beautiful, with plush carpets, wood walls, and chandeliers. It smelled faintly of winter and happiness. We stopped in front of some sort of dining room. Roses papered the walls, which were hung with mirrors and paintings. A harpist sat in the corner, playing soft music. Well-dressed people sat at tables, eating food off silver trays and sipping tea from delicate floral cups. A brass sign said The Rose Room.

“If this isn’t what you were thinking of, we can leave. Confession? I have no idea if this is a good place or not. Over the weekend, every time someone asked me if I was the Yeti, I asked them where I could find good muffins. This one got the most enthusiastic recommendations,” he told me, as he gave the woman at the host stand his name.

“This place is so pretty.” I bit my lower lip, feeling a little underdressed. We needed reservations? What sort of coffee shop was this?

The host showed us to a corner table. Tenzin pulled out my chair and pushed it in. My head ducked at his care. He sat, looking a little large for the table and chair, like he was sitting at a child’s table playing tea party.

I glanced at the menu–and the prices. No, this wasn’t a coffee shop; it was a fancy tea house. The sort where you had tiny food off tiered trays, like rich omegas in a historical drama.

Tenzin leaned in. “Apparently, the muffin flights are amazing. Get whatever you want.”

“Muffin flight ? Like a little tasting tray of muffins? Oh, yes, please. I love it. No one has ever taken me to a place like this before.” Aww. He picked this place for the muffins.

My mom and sisters liked places like this. I’d always been on strict nutrition plans due to figure skating and didn’t get to gorge on carbs. At least not in front of my parents. Being with my grandparents was a whole different story. My nonna was all about the pasta.

“If this isn’t satisfactory, we can go somewhere else.” He twisted in his seat, his citrus scent turning anxious.

“Tens, I can get a latte the size of my face and a tray full of muffins. It’s amazing, ” I assured. Everything looked delicious.

A server about my age, in a crisp uniform, came over to take our order.

“I’ll have a latte and a muffin flight,” I told her, the trays full of delectable morsels making my mouth water.

“I’ll have a jasmine tea and a muffin flight, and a mini dessert tower for the table,” Tenzin replied. “Thank you.”

Our drinks came first, and my giant latte had art in the foam–a rose.

I started to take a picture, then paused.

“If you’re taking a picture for your social media, I won’t judge. I’m going to send a picture of the muffin flight to my sister,” Tenzin told me.

“I haven’t posted on my social media since the breakup,” I sighed. “What do I even do? Post I broke up? Take years of pictures of him off? Delete it and start over?”

“I haven’t posted much since my breakup either. I never announced that we weren’t together anymore, but I took most pictures of her off.” He took a sip of tea.

“My friend Valya keeps telling me that she’s taking me for a single girl glow-up when she gets back from vacation. Maybe I should let her, then post that and leave it.” I took a sip of my latte.

“That seems sound. Let her? Are spa days not your idea of a good time?” He gave me a quizzical look as the server brought our muffin flights, which were cute trays with five mini muffins on each one.

“More like out of the budget. She’s like no, my brother will get it for us. Which is sweet, but it seems almost wasteful with everything I need. Though a glow-up would be fun. I should update my look. Especially since I should get serious on social media if I’m going to get an agent this year.”

Also, I’d changed my hair from pink to blue in February, but Austin hadn’t like it and wanted me to change it back. I’d wrecked my hair going pink again.

I ended up taking a picture of the tray and my coffee and posting it with nom nom as the caption.

Tenzin took a bite of the first muffin and nodded. “Extraordinary. You need an agent?”

I tried the first muffin and blueberries exploded across my tongue, mixing perfectly with the little sugar granules on top. “Oh yes, this was the best idea. A few agents approached me when NYIT won our division finals this year, but I never followed up.”

When I’d won the finals with my community college the same thing had happened. Austin told me to ignore them. Stupidly, I’d listened.

But not so much time had passed that I’d wrecked my chances with this batch. Maybe.

“I can help you create a professional account. We’ll start with whatever platform you like most. I can edit a couple highlight reels from your games–I’m guessing they’re on the university website? Think of one or two things you might like to share besides hockey. Something that makes you stand out. For example, I like to post pictures of nature. Cooter’s is full of fish. Real fish. Fish tanks. Gummy fish. Fish toys.” He got out his phone and started making a list.

I finished my muffin. “That would be amazing, but you don’t have to help me.”

Something that made me stand out? Not only did I not like to stand out, I was too busy working and studying. Of course, pictures of studying in stadiums had made Mercy’s big sister hugely popular.

“That’s my background. Also, it would give me something to do besides practice hockey and visit museums,” he replied.

“Fair. I’d like that. There’s no way I could pay you. If you’re editing videos for me, that’s a lot of work.” I picked up the next muffin, which was white chocolate raspberry with a little white chocolate curl on top.

“Accompany me to some museums and we’ll call it even. I’m happy to help. Also, finals weren’t that long ago. Make a list of those contacts and we’ll see who to follow up with,” he told me, making some notes on his phone.

I polished off that raspberry muffin and washed it down with a sip of latte. Perfection. The next one was chocolate chunk. “I… I’d appreciate all the help I can get, since I have to do this all by myself now.”

While I handled household finances and logistics, the hockey side had always been Austin’s realm.

“It can be daunting. I’m with a smaller agency, but it works for me.” His head cocked, a lock of hair falling in his dark eyes. “I’m not sure my agent even reps goalies, though she’s not taking clients. She just had a baby.”

He pushed his fancy phone over, and there was a little squishy baby in a black and silver Knights onesie.

“Aww. A Knights onesie?” My eyebrows rose.

“I’m joining your friends at the Knights. It’s finalized, but not announced to the press.” He, too, took a bite of the chocolate chip muffin.

“That’s exciting. I promise I’ll introduce you to the players I know.” Yep, he’d make an excellent addition to the team with Elias gone.

“Do you practice with the team during the season? The Sasquatches don’t have a program like yours. How does it work?” Curiosity tinged his voice.

“We only practice with the entire team occasionally. We practice with the goalies more, and sometimes watch game videos with them and go over strategy. Us EBUGs also have our own practices with one of the Knights’ coaches, too. Some years they let us participate in extra stuff like power skating and yoga. Our universities don’t allow us to miss class, practice, or games for Knights’ stuff without permission.

“The coaches are great with feedback, and the goalies are kind. We can use the facilities and sometimes get to help out or attend other things. But Coach Kirov believes in the program, not all the teams are like that.” I picked up the next muffin, which was apple cinnamon.

“It sounds wonderful. So your plan is to get representation, go free agent after graduation, and get signed?” He took another sip of tea.

“Yep. The Knights are the dream, but I’m not picky–farm team, overseas, really, I’d go anywhere.” Okay, except Canada and the Pacific Northwest. “I know given my size and designation, I’m not a standout, so I’ll take what I can get.”

“You’re as tall as Molly Crewe with the Belugas, aren’t you?” Tenzin took another sip of tea.

She was the other omega goalie in the PHL. Omegas weren’t common in professional hockey–or most contact sports.

“I’m an inch taller. But Molly’s the exception, not the rule. Goalies our size aren’t common anymore. You have to be very special.” Which was why I needed to rediscover that secret sauce that once made me stand out.

Make them look. Make them reconsider. Make them regret.

Like Maria Barilla did when they told her that professional hockey was too rough for betas. Oh, the teams that turned her down regretted that. The Knights built a legacy based on the chance they gave her.

“Challenge accepted.” He finished his last muffin. “People were wary of me because of my size. I’m large and they worried I wouldn’t be able to maneuver as well. So, I made videos of my best moves to catchy music. That was my first video project.”

The server came back over and took our empty trays, refilled our drinks, and brought us a tiered tray of tiny desserts.

I took a picture and sent it to Clark, since he was always sending me pictures of his mom’s pies.

“This is beautiful. Thank you. Thank you for doing something so kind for me. For offering to help me. Practice with me. You barely know me and you’re being so nice.” Tears pricked my eyes.

“He wasn’t kind to you, was he? Your ex.” Tenzin frowned.

“Oh, he was. One thing I loved was that he made me think I was worthy even though I’m just a beta. A few hours before we broke up, he baked me brownies and got my favorite takeout. I… I don’t understand how he could do this.” I sobbed into my mug.

“Gwen, hey, it’s okay. Do you want to talk about it?” he offered.

“Could I?” I wiped my eyes with the napkin and sniffed. I told Tenzin everything as we demolished the dessert tower–from meeting Austin in junior hockey back in high school, to going to get my stuff and finding him gone. Though I left out a few things, like him taking back the tuition money and me living in the closet.

“That was the worst part, I think.” I grabbed the last cookie on our almost empty tower. “Him destroying the photo of my mom. What did I miss? What did I do wrong? I was going to marry him. Form a pack. Play hockey.” A sob ripped from my throat.

“He’s not worth your tears. Do you think he’s crying over you right now?” Tenzin’s voice turned growly.

“No. He’s probably banging the omega he was promised to, while learning the ropes at his daddy’s company.” I sniffed. I still hoped it was something where he had to get his hands dirty.

“Don’t give him your tears–or your time,” he told me. “Don’t let him live rent free in your head. You’re a smart, sweet person who knows her way around a goal. You did nothing wrong. He held you back for too long. You might have thought you were flying together, but you were being dragged, going where he wanted on his timing. Now you’re free.”

I sucked in a breath as I wiped my tears with my napkin.

“Freedom can be a little scary at first, but just wait until you soar. You’re going to accomplish so much,” he told me.

“I could?” I drained the last of my latte.

The best revenge is to thrive.

“You will. You’ll see. It’s okay to be sad. It’s okay to take time to heal, to figure things out. We’ll work hard this summer. We’ll see the city and get your socials set up. When the season starts, you’ll hit the ice ready. You’re up for that, right?” He finished his tea.

Was I? What else did I have to do this summer? Might as well work on hockey and myself.

“Put me in, Coach.” I might be a sad girl, but this sad girl was ready to soar.