We walked the length of the rink together as she explained how the lessons worked. The balance between safety and fun. I listened, really listened, and felt something click into place that had nothing to do with schedules or checklists.
“I don’t want to overcommit,” I said carefully when she finished. “The inn still needs me. And the talent show isn’t done yet.”
“I’m not asking you to,” Eva said. “This can be part-time and flexible. You could do a trial period after the talent show. You try it. If it fits, it fits.”
I looked out at the ice again. The kids laughed as they wobbled and fell and got back up. The instructors encouraged while gently correcting. At the simple satisfaction of watching someone gain confidence right in front of you.
“I want to do this,” I said, surprised by how certain I felt. “But only if it doesn’t pull me away from everything else.”
Eva smiled. “That’s exactly how it should be. Plus, it’s a paid position.”
We shook on it, informal and warm, and I left the rink feeling lighter than I had in weeks. Like I had found a door I hadn’t known how to open before.
The cold hit my face as soon as I stepped outside, sharp and bracing. I zipped my coat and headed toward the parking lot, already mentally rearranging my week to make room for something that felt like mine.
“Kitty Bennet?”
I stopped.
A man stood near the edge of the lot, his expression carefully pleasant. His slickbacked hair and leather coat creaked as he came forward, holding out a hand to shake.
“Hi,” I said cautiously, ignoring the hand.
“I was hoping to run into you. Do you have a minute?” he said.
“I really don’t,” I replied.
He smiled anyway. “This won’t take long. My name is Dave. I’m Caleb’s agent.”
I crossed my arms, bracing myself for whatever he was about to ask me to do.
He gestured toward the rink. “You’re good with people. They listen to you. Caleb listens to you.”
I felt my spine straighten. “Where are you going with this?”
“I think you could help him see that a small tour doesn’t have to be the end of everything he wants. It could stabilize things. Give him breathing room,” Dave pitched.
“He doesn’t want to tour,” I said.
“He doesn’t want to struggle either,” Dave countered smoothly. “Sometimes people need help making the practical choice.”
I shook my head. “It’s his decision.”
He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. “You care about him. That’s clear. If you soften him up, if you help him reframe it—”
“No,” I said, cutting him off. “I’m not here to manage him for you.”
Dave’s smile tightened. “You’re being idealistic.”
“I’m being honest,” I replied. “I won’t manipulate someone I care about so you can get what you want.”
He studied me for a moment, reassessing. “You’re leaving money on the table.”
“Then it was never mine,” I said.
Dave sighed, like I had disappointed him personally.
“Please don’t talk to me again,” I said, stepping past him. I didn’t look back as I walked to my car. The cold air filled my lungs, steady and clean, removing the oiliness of Dave.
