Page 69 of Off The Ice

“Tell me,” I urged.

“I just thinkyoushould be the one to ask Maggie to come to the game.”

Whatever I thought she was going to say, I sure as hell didn’t expect it to be about my sister.

“Me?” I asked dubiously.

“I mean, I just know that she misses you a lot, and she feels really bad about that fight you guys had the other day.”

I groaned, rubbing a hand over my face. “You know about that?” I asked stupidly.

Of course she does. She’sMaggie’sperson. Not mine. I was stupid for forgetting that.

“Yeah, I mean, just a little bit,” she said sheepishly. “I just think it would mean a lot to her for you guys to smooth things over. And I have the feeling she’s too stubborn to be one to reach out first.”

I snorted. “You know my sister well.”

Cassie smiled.

“So, will you?” She stared at me in a way that made me want to give her whatever the hell she wanted, no matter the cost.

I nodded. “I’ll talk to her.”

Cassie exhaled a sigh of relief as if she was worried I would say no, and I wondered just how much she cared about my sister to make her worry about the state of our relationship.

“Thank you, Liam,” Cassie said, locked in eye contact with me for a moment before she pulled her gaze away.

I watched her stand up and walk to the sink, watched as she washed her bowl and set it to dry. Then she was gone, back upstairs to get ready for the day.

I sat, reeling in the aftermath of that conversation, which for some reason felt more weighted than I understood.

Maggie,I thought.

Smoothing things over would take more than a text or a phone call. It was the type of conversation that needed to be had in person.

I sighed, realizing that I wasn’t going to escape the morning without having to face the awkward groveling of an apology, after all.

Maggie was a lot smarter than most people would guess or give her credit for.

She always had been, even when we were kids. She was fast-thinking, sharp, and witty. She always had an answer toanything someone could throw at her, and sheneverbacked down from an argument. It was annoying, really. But it was one of the reasons she excelled at what she did.

As a lawyer, Maggie had made a career out of being a relentless pain in the ass, and in all honesty, she had done really well for herself.

Our mother had despaired at Maggie’s choice of career, claiming that all lawyers were cold, ruthless workaholics who were only in it for the money. Maggie had proved her wrong on almost every account, choosing to practice family law, specifically cases of trying to reunite families or working out arrangements to grant higher visitation rights to parents who wanted to be part of their child’s life.

But there was one thing my mother got right—Maggiewasa workaholic, throwing herself into every case and not wasting a second before picking up the next. Some people would put it down as passion for her work, but sometimes I wondered if it wasn’t something else.

But whatever the reason for her insane hours, it kept her very busy. Meaning, I knew if I wanted to see her, I’d have to go directly to her office, whether she wanted me there or not.

“I’m here to see Maggie,” I said to the receptionist, clearing my throat awkwardly as I took in the orderly, polished scene around me.

Business attire, fast-moving people, and sounds everywhere. Phones ringing, the printer going off, and the incessant sound of the receptionist clicking away at her keyboard.

In a way, it seemed so ill-fitting for Maggie to be here in this cold, sterile space.

But then again, Maggie had always been able to adapt to anything.

“Sorry, who?”

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