Page 25 of Boards & Betrayal

Nick's publicist needs more money. The twat he was seeing broke up with him, and he's a mess. Handle it.

My jaw tightened as I read the message. Nick had been in the NHL for three years, yet not once had he invited me to watch a game. Now, they pestered me for money, treating me like an ATM rather than his father.

Didn't he get some fancy contract? Why the fuck did he need my money?

"Goddamn it," I muttered under my breath. The kids had skated like they were on a leisurely Sunday stroll. No drive, no fire. Just a pathetic performance that made me question every drill I'd put them through.

And Nick? Fuck, so a girl broke up with him. Tough shit.

I needed to get out of there, away from the campus and its reminders of tonight's fiasco. A drink wouldn't fix everything, but it might dull the edges long enough for me to think straight. I grabbed my jacket and headed for my car, leaving the disappointment of the rink behind.

I drove aimlessly for a while, letting the hum of the engine drown out my thoughts. Eventually, I found myself at a bar I'd never been to before—The Rusty Anchor. It was far enough from campus that I wouldn't run into anyone I knew. Just what I needed.

The place had a certain grit to it, with worn wooden floors and dim lighting that cast long shadows across the room. The bar itself was made of old oak, its surface polished smooth by years of elbows and spilled drinks. A jukebox in the corner played classic rock tunes that added to the rugged ambiance.

I took a seat at the bar and ordered a whiskey neat. The bartender, a grizzled man with a beard that looked like ithadn't seen a razor in years, poured me a generous measure without any small talk. Just how I liked it.

As I nursed my drink, I scanned the room. The crowd was a mix of locals—blue-collar types unwinding after a long day of work. It was exactly the kind of place where no one would ask questions or give a damn about who you were.

Then I saw her—a woman sitting alone at the far end of the bar. She had an air of confidence about her, with dark hair that fell in loose waves around her shoulders and eyes that seemed to pierce through the dim light. She wasn't flashy, but there was something about her that drew me in.

I finished my drink and ordered another before making my way over to her. She glanced up as I approached, her expression unreadable but not unwelcoming.

"Is this seat taken?" I asked, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside me.

She shrugged, a small smile playing on her lips. "I have a boyfriend."

"Good for you," I shot back, unable to hide my irritation. "Just looking for a seat, not a relationship."

Soft laughter tinkled in my ears from behind me. I turned, narrowing my eyes as I found the source—a redhead with a rag in her hand, cleaning the table nearby. She had striking features, with freckles dusting her nose and cheeks. Her eyes sparkled with amusement as she wiped down the counter.

Fucking stunning.

"And what's so funny?" I demanded, unable to keep the edge out of my voice.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said, her voice light as she continued wiping down the counter.

"No," I insisted, leaning against the bar. "Tell me."

She glanced at the woman who had just dismissed me and scampered off and then back at me. "That woman has beencoming here for the last three nights," she explained, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "Latching onto any guy in a business suit with cufflinks." She eyed my leather jacket. "I guess she doesn't like your leather jacket."

I smirked despite myself. "Guess not everyone appreciates quality leather."

"Clearly," she said with a chuckle, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Though I have to say, it’s refreshing to see someone not dressed like they walked out of a corporate catalog."

"Glad to provide some variety," I replied, feeling an unexpected lightness in her presence.

"Variety is good," she said, giving the counter one last wipe before tossing the rag over her shoulder. "Especially in this place. It gets... repetitive."

"Tell me about it," I said, glancing around at the worn wooden floors and dim lighting. "First time here?"

"First time working here," she corrected. "Needed something different myself."

"And this is what you chose?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

She shrugged. "It pays the bills and offers decent people-watching."

I nodded slowly. "Yeah, I can see that."

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