“Can I help you, Clarice?” he asks. “I’m having a conversation with my daughter, and the rink is currently closed.”
“Sorry, I didn’t realize,” she says. “Is this the girl that made such a scene yesterday after practice?”
Cheeks burning, I touch Dad’s back. “I should go. Can you ask Gerry to walk me out, please?”
“Gerry isn’t your personal guard,” Clarice calls out, making me roll my eyes.
Skating out from the mountain of an alpha that is my father, I come closer to her.
“Maybe not, but Gerry insisted on it,” I state. “I forgot my knife, and Dad hasn’t taught me how to use the stun gun he bought me yet.”
I can practically feel how smug my dad is as I skate off the ice and sit down to change into my shoes.
“You’re a criminal,” she sniffs.
“A college graduate actually. Is that the same thing to you?” I snark, sliding a glance at my father to see if I’ve gone too far.
I can tell that he doesn’t really like her, and it helps me relax a bit. Clarice is a beta, has zero authority over me, and falls firmly under my ‘fair game’ column. I can speak my mind.
“You went to college?”
“She did, but I don’t tell you anything because it’s none of your damn business. Did you have an actual question for me?” Dad asks.
“I wonder if my father knows how you’re using his ice rink,” she says.
Oh. Fuck. That’s how I know her name. We’ve never met, but she’s the owner’s daughter.
“Friedrick knows I offered Caelia use of the ice when no one is using it,” Dad shrugs. “Feel free to find out for yourself.”
“Clarice!” a voice calls out. “Can you come help me with this paperwork while I talk to Coach?”
Dad shakes his head at me as he sits beside me, and I take a breath as I hurry to fix my boots. Clarice hurries away, and I hear footsteps come closer.
“It’s just the owner,” Dad whispers. “I wanted to run something by him.”
“This isn’t an empty building,” I grumble under my breath, despite his smile.
“Curtis,” a voice says, bringing my dad and I to stand and face him.
“Friedrick, this is my daughter, Caelia,” Dad introduces.
“Hi, I was hoping to meet you,” Friedrick smiles. He is tall, reminding me of someone who used to be athletic.
“It’s nice to meet you, sir,” I say politely.
“Meh, I don’t really need all that,” he scoffs. “I bought this team because I was bored five years ago and love the rush of watching us win. I also gave your dad a chance because he’s really good at his job.”
“We get better with every game. There’s lots of new players this year,” Dad admits. “Caelia spotted a few things while she was watching the last practice, which means I can adjust things so that we play a better game.”
“Fantastic. I hear you work in content creation for social media,” Friedrick says. At my nod, he grins. “We haven’t been selling as many tickets as I’d like to see. I know the season is just ramping up, but I think we need to use a different strategy.”
“Oh?” I ask, feeling faint. I spot a trap. Dad’s palm envelops my elbow, encouraging me to stay standing. My knees are actually listening too.
Traitors.
“Why don’t you make content for the team? We need a social media manager, and I’ll pay you thirty-eight grand as a starting salary. Does that seem fair?” Friedrick asks.
What the hell is happening?
