I break the rest of my news. “A head hunter.”
Winter raises her eyebrows.
“In the New Orleans area,” I add. “She still has my resume on file from when I found out I might lose my job, and then, of course, this position was offered to me, and I took it.”
“Head hunters don’t usually call just to chat,” Peyton says slowly.
“Well, sometimes they will call to feel you out and see if you’re still looking. But in this case, she actually has something solid for me. I would be the social director for Mardi Parties.”
“Holy shit.” Peyton gasps. “That company is iconic in the Big Easy.”
“I’d have to nail the interview of course, but she said they’re intrigued by my experience and my current social feed. I have a phone interview with them in a couple of days.”
“That’s huge, Ash,” Winter says.
Itishuge. It would be a big career leap for me.
“Mia’s company is well-established and has been very successful,” I say, “But this is New Orleans, and the reach is so much bigger.”
“This is tough, sugar.” Peyton hugs me. “I’m confident you’ll do what’s right for you, whatever that is.”
“Whatever makes you happiest is my best and only advice,” Winter says.
She would know. Winter chose to leave Broadway in New York City because she learned she was happiest living at home in New Orleans and performing there instead.
“Life isn’t always a straight line,” she adds.
Certainly not. And my life’s line has been taking me on all sorts of twists and turns. But I had started to feel like it was leading me to Montana. And to Jared.
Just when I was starting to think he and I might have a chance…
I get a shot at a massive leap in my career. Over two thousand miles away. But back home in a place I know with people I adore.
But the man I love is here.
The third period begins, and the three of us file back to our seats to cheer on the Storm brothers.
None of us cheer against either team. Because that would feel wrong. Winter celebrates when Jared and Max do well, and I clap just as hard for Liam and Hunter. Inwardly, of course, Winter’s rooting for Hunter to succeed just like I am for Jared.
In the end, the game goes to overtime still tied one to one.
Winter laughs. “Think one of the Storms will win the game with a goal?”
I do. And I hope it’s my Storm.
I smile to myself. That has a nice ring to it, calling Jared mine.
I don’t want to lose him.
But I don’t know if he’s actually mine to lose.
* * *
Jared
As overtime begins, I face off against my baby brother. I don’t think any of the four of us spend enough time recognizing the miracle that is this moment—every year, we get to play on the same ice on the biggest stage for hockey.
“Good luck, Hunt,” I say right before the referee drops the puck.
