“Fairfax adjacent,” I remind him, “So tell yourself you’re wrong.”
He turns and skates backward, smiling, “I’m never wrong.”
I catch the women dispersing and see them disappear up the steps. They take opposite sides, lenses low, angles clean. Nothing will look staged; it will all be edited perfectly becauseTsarinawouldn’t have it any other way.
She stays off the ice watching them, not a concern in the world, arms crossed, phone in hand, eyes up. Watching it all like it’s a production.
It’s not. I head toward her before I finish thinking. Long strides. Sharp cut. I don’t slow until I’m right in front of her, skates biting hard into the ice.
She looks up, not the least bit startled and not at all pleased.
“Do you ever knock?” she asks like she’s bored.
“No,” I say.
Her eyebrow lifts, and it has my teeth on edge. That look, like she’s deciding how much patience I get, how much time and space I can take up.
“You don’t know them,” I say.
Her mouth tightens. “Excuse me?”
“The girls,” I continue. “Your crew. You don’t know them. You could be putting Deacon and Claudia in the middle of something they didn’t ask for.”
Her eyes sharpen. “They did ask.”
“You’re opening doors you can’t close,” I say. “They get fucked up at Icehouse and let something slip, that’s something that will go viral, and you won’t be so pleased about. You screw this up; it doesn’t just land on you. It lands on Savannah.
Her whole demeanor changes as she steps closer, close enough that I can smell her perfume, and I hate it.
“You don’t get to talk to me like that,” she says quietly.
“I do,” I shoot back. “Because I see what happens when trust is misplaced. Because I’ve watched people get hurt by someone who thought they had control because they had money, spoiler alert, money doesn’t mean shit.”
She crosses her arms, “So you’ve decided you know better.”
I scoff. “I know how to read a play, see an attack before it happens, and I know when someone thinks they’re untouchable, they are the most dangerous to those around them.”
Her laugh is short. Sharp. “You think I’m careless?”
“I think you’re used to getting your own way,” I say. “And you’re forgetting that some people can’t be bought and paid for because they don’t belong to you.”
She doesn’t raise her voice. Doesn’t flinch.
“Not that it is any of your business, but I met these two employees at your friend Dash’s girlfriend’s bookstore. PhD students who wanted to earn extra money. You’d know that if you’d ever gone and bought a book,” she says. “And even with that, I did background checks. NDAs were signed. They don’t touch anything I don’t approve. They don’t post anything I don’t see first. And they don’t come near Claudia or Savannah without requests or permission.”
I open my mouth, and she steps closer, “And Deacon trusts me. Which means I don’t need your approval.”
Faulker skates by again, clearly clocking the tension, wisely keeping his mouth shut for once.
I lean in just enough to make the point. “If one of them crosses a line,” I say, low, “I will end it. Quietly.”
Her smile is thin. “Noted.”
Then she looks me up and down, slow, deliberate. “But here’s the thing, AK, off the ice, you don’t get to protect everyone by being an asshole. But it is telling.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Skate off.” She says it like one would say fuck off as she steps back, “You’re blocking the shot.”
