Keep yourself together.
That was her goal. In a few hours, when she was in her apartment alone, she would allow herself the luxury of falling apart. Until then…
Breathe.
Smile.
Pretend you’re okay.
Only one of those tasks appeared doable, but only because of habit, an automatic muscle reflex she couldn’t control even if she wanted to. The other two, however, were crucial to getting through the day with as little drama as possible. Yet…
The muscles around her mouth hurt from faking a smile for the past two weeks—when her parents told her and the other employees about the sale of the town’s only rink.
Talk about a mic drop.
Mom and Dad hadn’t even told her first. She’d heard along with everyone else. Not even Alek had known, or he would have given her a heads up.
The unexpected news sent shock waves through Wishing Bay. Okay, the rink sat on prime real estate. She understood that part. No one would deny its location made developers salivate and had for years. But the sale impacted so many families. Local figure skaters and hockey players would no longer have a nearby rink to practice in. The staff, including Tasha who managed the place, would no longer have jobs. All thanks to her parents’ CPA, who advised them to sell. Something about no longer needing the tax write-off and they could invest the money elsewhere. Not that it had ever been a financial investment to them, but a practical one when they moved to the small town on the Washington coast twenty years ago. Now that her brother was a pro hockey player in Seattle, and Tasha was…
Who could blame her for wanting to frown?
She hadn’t recovered from the shock and hurt from her parents not bothering to tell her first when she managed the rink. Talk about a slap in the face. Sure, she’d been in Seattle to assist with the choreography at the Nutcracker Holiday Ice show, but that had been a temporary gig. She hadn’t realized how short it would turn out to be. She’d still been in charge of the rink operations.
But to be honestly, Mom had pulled stuff like this before. Tasha hadn’t thought Dad was capable of something like this, but he’d admitted keeping the news of the sale quiet had been his idea. Somehow, that had hurt Tasha more.
Still, she kept her lips curved upward for appearance’s sake. Mom would be on Tasha if she so much as pouted in public. The Ransom name—really Alek’s—had to be protected. A good thing the chip on her shoulder was invisible. A chip bigger than the Zamboni she loved to drive and would never get the chance to again.
Don’t give up hope.
She didn’t want to, but in less than three hours, her life would change. No more paycheck, no more privacy to skate, no more place to go each day after she woke.
Her breath hitched. A tightness in her chest rose to her throat, until her eyes stung.
Stop.
Tasha stared at the overcast, gray sky and blinked. Once, twice, three times. She focused on her breathing until things felt normal again. A lone tear slipped out of her eye. She wiped it away and then blinked until no other tears threatened to fall. Only then did she lower her chin.
Stay calm.
Now wasn’t the time to think about the future. Stressing out Mom, who was inside watching the last practice session, would only bring more grief. Tasha also didn’t want to worsen her strained relationship with Kristen McAllister, her former best friend and practice partner, who would arrive at any minute for their final exchange of skater costumes.
Don’t think about the finality of that, either.
A briny breeze off the bay blew Tasha’s hair over her eyes. Her stiff, cold fingers tucked the stray strands under her knit beanie. She shoved her bare hands into her jacket pockets to warm them. She shouldn’t have left her gloves inside.
A familiar hatchback zipped into the parking lot like it was auditioning for the nextFast and Furiousfilm. The tires squealed to a stop, with the car taking up two spots.
Kristen McAllister had arrived.
Tasha nearly laughed. The haphazard parking job reminded her of taking driver’s ed with Kristen, who’d never been a conscientious driver and terrified Tasha whenever she’d sat in the passenger seat. A few things never changed.
Kristen slid out of the driver’s seat and grabbed a zippered dress bag withWishing Bay Dress Shopprinted across it. Holding on to the hanger sticking out of the bag, she bumped her hip against the door to shut it.
Tasha removed her hands from her pockets. This wouldn’t take long, even though they used to spend hours texting and talking. But that was another time and place, when they had believed they would be both best friends and sisters-in-laws.
Suede boots slapped against the asphalt. Kristen wore her blond hair in a messy bun. Not her usual style. Her clothes, too. The yoga pants showed off her long legs and fit physique.
Don’t be jealous.
