Chapter 17: The Price of Ice

Theo's POV

On Wednesday at six in the evening, I found a man in a dark overcoat in the lobby of my coach's rink, holding a checkbook.

I knew the jaw before I knew the face.

Wyatt's father stood at the front desk with the club manager, who was holding a pen and looking at the floor.

"Garrick," his father said, warmly. "I was hoping to find you."

"You've found me."

"I've taken the liberty of renting your ice."

The manager made a small sound.

"All of it," his father said. "Six a.m. to noon, every day until the team flies out."

"A family foundation is paying. It was easier than arguing."

I looked at the check.

It was a lot of money for a morning of other people's ice.

My coach spoke from the office door behind me.

She had a mug in her hand and no expression at all.

"The ice belongs to the club," she said. "It isn't for sale."

"Everything is for sale at the right price, I find."

"Then your price is too low."

He gave her a long, patient smile and turned it on me.

"I'd like to speak to Garrick alone."

"You'll speak in front of her."

"Very well."

He folded the check in half.

"Her release is under review. I can have it reopened tomorrow, on a complaint that the video was edited."

"She'd lose her eligibility for the Games until it's heard, which will be after they end."

"And I'd lose my partner."

"You'd lose your partner, and she was never yours."

He sounded reasonable, which was the worst of it.

"Send her back to my son for one season. I'll see that you keep your spot."

"No."

"You haven't heard the rest."

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