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Puck Princess (Houston Scythes Hockey #2) 9. Callie 18%
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9. Callie

9

CALLIE

In the NHL, I got paid good money to work with high-performance athletes at their physical peak.

At Tender Touch Massage, I could make pennies over minimum wage to massage walk-ins off the street.

How will I ever choose?

I sit on Owen’s couch, a salad that I ordered from a nearby deli on my lap, and scroll through job listings so bleak, I’m considering a life of crime. The few jobs that are more appealing than starting my own counterfeit money operation—like one downtown in a private practice with full benefits, near shopping and the riverwalk—pay half as much as I made with the Scythes.

I mean, it makes sense. Those jobs are cushy. I’d have my own office and, at the start of every day, I could look at my schedule and know exactly what the day would hold. I doubt helping locals with post-op mobilization and the elderly with aches and pains has anywhere near the drama a hockey team does.

When I show up at the arena in the morning, I have no idea who is gonna break their nose in practice or have a flare-up of an old injury. A few weeks ago, Dax stubbed his toe on a weight plate in the gym and thought it was broken. (It wasn’t. He’s just a big baby.)

And I like that chaos. I thrive in it. The only part I don’t love as much is ex-boyfriends and fist fights.

So, as I pick all the mandarin oranges out of my salad, I dive deep into the bowels of physical therapist jobs. My search engine is now set to a range of one-hundred miles, allowing me options like working in Flatonia, TX or the middle of the Gulf of Mexico.

I’m considering the pros and cons of a two-hour daily commute while I have a newborn at home when there’s a knock at the door.

I’m not expecting anyone. It’s the twenty-first century and cellphones exist, so I’m never expecting anyone.

I freeze, trying to decide if I should pretend no one is home.

The problem with that plan is, if it’s someone I really don’t want to talk to on the other side of that door, no response could be all the response they need to kick the door in.

There’s another knock, but it’s soft, patient. So, I press my luck and tiptoe over to peek through the peephole.

“Oh.” I open the door. “Uncle Randy?”

“Hey, Alley Cat.” His hands are in his pockets. He looks like hell.

“Are you looking for— Owen went to work. I mean, he’s not— I mean.” Clearly, I don’t know what I mean.

Is he looking for Owen? Is it bad that I am here? And speaking of Owen, I am totally wearing one of his old t-shirts, which pretty much erases any chance at plausible deniability.

Uncle Randy saves me the emotional spiral.

“I’m here to see you. I was wondering if we could talk.”

I haven’t seen him since he fired me, but I hold the door open. “Of course.”

My uncle walks in, taking a look around before slowly turning to face me.

“Is everything okay?”

If something was wrong with Kennedy, he wouldn’t be this calm, would he?

He lets out a breath that almost makes its way to a laugh. “I don’t know if anything is okay lately.”

Ain’t that the truth?

“Do you want to sit down?”

He nods, taking off his Scythes ball cap and dropping down into an armchair. I glance at my phone again, but there are no missed calls or texts. No warning at all what this could be about.

Which is why the next words out of his mouth hit me sideways.

“Callie, I want to apologize.”

Without warning, tears spring to my eyes, and I have to blink them back. “It’s okay.”

“No. Let me say what I want to say. Because I owe you a real apology, Alley Cat. First of all, for not realizing everything that was going on.”

“How would you have known? I lied to you about it.”

“Uncle intuition.” He taps the side of his balding head. “I should’ve known. And if I’m honest with myself, I feel like maybe I did. It’s the only reason I’m not suspending your boyfriend for going off on me in front of the team today.”

I hold my breath. Leave it to Owen to get his job back and lose it again all in the same day.

“Well, that, and I respect the hell out of the way he stood up for my niece.” There’s begrudging respect in the curve of his mouth.

Those pesky tears are back, blurring my vision. “He did?”

“Yeah. And you know what? He wasn’t wrong. He said Miles being let go from the team wasn’t enough. He said you needed your job back.”

“Oh.” The feeling in my chest is a mix of anticipation and heartache.

Owen has no idea exactly what he was asking for.

“Listen, I don’t have to tell you that you are a second daughter to me. I planned to come make things right with you even before that article came out. I shouldn’t have believed Miles so quickly, and I should’ve seen how green in the gills you were when you were lying to me. I should have known better all the way around, and I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t make it easy on you… with my past.”

“Miles was our all-American good guy, and he proved himself to be a real asshat. I’m sure that ex of yours was an asshat, too. Past or not, I don’t blame you for a thing, darlin’.”

I had no idea how much I needed to hear my uncle say that until this moment. It doesn’t fix everything, but it sure helps.

“And Owen isn’t in trouble for yelling at you?”

“I didn’t say that.” He licks his lips with way too much anticipation. “I can’t have my guys mouthing off to me, even if they are making some good points. Skating some lines should right the scales.”

I can’t help but laugh. “Please don’t scare him away. I need him to stick around for this baby.”

He smiles. When he’s not yelling at hockey players, he has the most warm and loving smile.

“What’s that look for?” I ask.

“I was wrong about a lot these last few weeks,” he says. “But I was right about the two of you. I wasn’t just pulling things out of my ass when I said you two have chemistry I’ve only ever seen once before.”

“You and Aunt Flo?” I guess.

He nods. “It’s like whiskey to a campfire, but I tell ya what, it’s authentic.”

“It’s exhausting.” I lean back into the couch.

He laughs heartily. “You bet it is. But if it’s right… in the end, it’s worth it.”

I flash back to last night on the couch. To Owen cradling my face, telling me I’m worth it all.

If he keeps it up, I’ll start believing him.

“Everything is still so complicated, though.”

“One thing at a time, Alley Cat. Let’s start with you getting your job back.”

My heart stops. “Really?”

“I’ve always seen your potential. Not a lot of people can make it in this industry. Even fewer women make it. You’re gonna have your work cut out for you overcoming the whispers and the rumors, but you’re tough. I know you can handle it. So I’m offering you your job back. But because you were wrongfully let go, you’re on the hiring side of the desk this time. This is me asking if you’ll have me as your boss?”

I can’t hide the tears anymore. “Of course. And thank you.”

I hug him hard. God, we are a mushy family, but I wouldn’t change it. I’ve been on the other side of that spectrum.

“Just do one thing for me, Callie.”

“Of course.”

“Be honest from now on,” he says. “About everything. The storm has passed, but the wreckage is all around. We gotta pick our way through it now.”

I can’t quite force the words out, but I nod.

We hug a third time before he says he needs to get back before his players start tearing each other apart again and heads out, leaving me alone on Owen’s couch.

A part of my heart has never been happier. I feel like I can breathe after being buried under secrets for so long. It feels good to finally be honest.

Except, in a way, I just lied to him again.

Uncle Randy doesn’t know about Spencer. No one does, except for Kennedy. He doesn’t know he’s back in Houston and sniffing around the Scythes.

I know it’s a major omission, but it’s also something I plan to take care of myself. I’m not going to let Owen bloody himself to save me. And I’m not going to let Spencer scare me off again. Not like he and his rich daddy did before.

I’m going to stand my ground and face this head on.

I just have to hope that what my uncle said is true about the storm being over. I’m praying that we aren’t just in the eye of it.

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