Page 201 of The Fine Line
“Okay,” I say slowly, smiling like none of this fazes me. “Why don’t you let me change your mind over a couple of beers?”
Her eyes flick down, then up again. “I’m a gin girl.”
“Well, just for you,” I grin, closing the distance another inch, “I can be a gin guy.”
She laughs softly, the sound quiet but cutting. Her tongue darts out, tracing the edge of her lip. “Yeah,” she says. “I have a feeling you can appear to be whatever it takes to get somebody to buy it.”
Something tightens in my chest. “Buy what?”
She holds my gaze without flinching. “You.”
The word lands hard. Heavy. I don’t know why, but it does.
I study her. For the first time in I don’t know how long, I can’t find my footing.
“Who are you?” I ask, my voice quieter now.
“Caroline.”
Her name sinks into me like a dart. I swallow.
“And your last name?” I smirk, regaining a little of myself. “Not that it matters. I’ll be changing that anyway.”
Her eyes narrow, sharp and assessing. The air between us thickens.
“Hey, hon.”
The voice cuts in from behind me.
I turn around, seeing Bear stepping out of the rink. Storm logo on his jacket. Clipboard in hand. Eyes on her. My brows pull together.
I stare, then look back at her. She smiles—polite, distant. “Hi, Dad.”
Dad.
I feel my face go slack. Everything in me just… shuts down for a second. My hands flex uselessly at my sides. The edges of her name still ringing in my ears.
Caroline.
Caroline… Barrett.
Well. Shit.
“I’ll be done in ten,” he tells her. “You want to stick around or meet me in my office?”
“I’ll be in your office.” She shifts her eyes from him back to me. “I’ve seen all I need to today.”
“All right, see you in a few.” He taps the glass with his fist twice, then pushes off back onto the ice.
She turns to go.
I swallow. “Tomorrow then?” I call after her.
She pauses, glancing back. “What?”
“If you’ve seen all you can of me today…” I shrug. “Give me another chance tomorrow.”
Her lips twitch. “You’re persistent.”
