"This town," she says, with the reverence of a religious conversion.
"Too much?" Jane asks.
"Not enough." Grace points her fork. "I want to eat here every day."
"You've been here less than twenty four hours."
"Time is irrelevant when the food is this good." She takes another bite. Looks at me. "So. West, tell me about the coaching."
I glance at Jane. She's watching me with the neutral expression she deploys when she's actually listening hardest—the one that gives nothing away and takes everything in.
"AHL affiliate," I say. "Cedar Falls Mustangs. The team doesn't formally exist yet. Arena's new. Starting from scratch. That's it."
Jane and Grace both tilt their heads at the same moment, reminding me of those cat and puppy videos on social media. The Cooper-sisters gesture. Identical on both of them.
My knee presses a little harder against Jane’s under the table.
Grace waves her fork. "Well… my nursing program, the program director said the simulation lab runs twenty-four-seven. Twenty-four-seven, Jane. Now, that's a lifestyle."
"You mentioned that."
“Also, the clinical housing has mountain views."
"You mentioned that too."
"I'm mentioning it again because I’ve never seen them up close like these before."
Jane gives me a look that meanshelp meandI adore herin equal measure.
I hold her gaze. Don't look away.
Something shifts between us. Not dramatic. Molecular. The kind of adjustment that happens when two people who have been orbiting at a distance finally share atmosphere.
"The penthouse at Skyridge has a view of those mountains, Jane." I say. "You should see them up close as well."
I deliver this with a straight face.
Jane's coffee cup freezes halfway to her mouth.
Grace makes a sound like she's inhaled her orange juice.
The couple two tables over looks up from their omelets.
“You have mountain views worth seeing from your penthouse?”
"That's what I said."
Her eyes are doing something I'm going to need a long time to recover from. Equal partsI see exactly what you're doingandkeep going.
Grace clears her throat and sets her fork down.
"You know what," she says, pulling out her phone with the sudden conviction of someone who has just received critical intelligence. "The residential complex has a welcome tour at—" She scrolls. Keeps scrolling. "—right now, actually. They just opened. I should absolutely go check in with the housing coordinator."
"On a Sunday," Jane says flatly.
"Housing doesn't take weekends off."
"Housing absolutely takes weekends off."
