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He went to turn and was shoulder-checked hard. He staggered back a few paces, obscenities flying from his mouth until he saw who had stopped him.
Asher stood there, scratching his head, clearly perplexed and pissed off at the same time. I hadn’t even felt him move away from my side.
“Martino, we all good? It was just an accident, man.”
Asher laughed, and it was a chilling sound. “Sure, we’re good, just apologize to the lady and pick up after yourself.”
He pointed at the dishes on the floor. The diner was deadly quiet. The other hockey player blanched.
“Come on, man, isn’t that the waitress’s job? I’m not trying to be anyone’s maid,” he tried to joke.
He clearly didn’t know that Asher’s mom was a house cleaner, or that his sister had waitressed at this very diner. I hoped he got his head put through a wall.
Asher tilted his head to the side and stepped closer to the guy. He wasn’t as tall as the other player, but there was an aura of violence around him that the other guy with his preppy loafers and ironed polo could only dream of, and they both knew it. There was no doubting who held the power in the face-off.
“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that. Apologize and clean up, before I feed you the rest of your lunch, broken plate, glass, and all.”
I shivered. Asher’s voice was damn menacing. He was all riled up over an asshole who’d been rude to a random girl. Was she his girlfriend? I wondered idly. No, I didn’t think so. This was just Asher. He was famously overprotective. He’d managed to keep the entire school away from his sister for years, despite her being the prettiest girl there.
Once Asher was distracted watching the two guys who’d been fighting clean up, I made my escape.
“Here,” I said to Selena, setting down her glass. “I think I’m going to go.”
“Really? Yeah, it’s a good idea, actually. We need to get ready, and we’ll see these losers later.”
Winter
Later, I stepped out of the shower and saw that my forehead had recovered a little from its rough treatment last night. I got dressed and dried my hair, putting on makeup while listening to music and thinking about the end of the year. The first half of freshman year was over. Selena was all excited about the new year and full of things she wanted to do, while I felt oddly flat. I had nothing to look forward to, or that’s how it felt, anyway. Avoiding that feeling was a constant battle.
I went downstairs in my new red-soled heels, a birthday present from my mother.
Dad was in the kitchen, already dressed in a tux. Distinguished and dashing, he read a paper at the kitchen counter, an open bottle of Macallan Estate Reserve sitting next to an empty glass.
“You’re still home? I’d have thought you’d have a New Year’s thing going on somewhere else,” I observed, pouring myself a glass of water.
Dad checked his watch. “I’m taking the jet to New York in an hour.”
“Right.” Of course.
Dad gave me a fright by putting the paper down and slapping the front page. “This is exactly what I’m talking about.”
“What are you reading?” I wondered.
“Why, the Harbor Herald, still a damn fine publication.”
What the hell? I leaned over and got an eyeful of the very paper I’d brought in from the car. Selena had left it there when I’d given her a ride home.
“Single-parent household, immigrant mother, crawling his way up through sheer determination and talent. That’s the American dream right there.” His fingers tapped the image of Asher on the front page. I blanched at the sight of his face right there in my kitchen, under my dad’s hand.
“Yeah, I guess.” I mumbled noncommittedly. I might be more impressed by Asher if I didn’t have such a recent experience of his wicked insanity.
“So, how did the birthday girl enjoy her big night?” Dad picked up his crystal tumbler, only to realize it was empty.
I took it from him and poured him another generous measure. “It was wonderful to see you and Mom,” I said diplomatically. I wish it had just been us, without Duncan and Trent. I knew without speaking that my dad wouldn’t take that well.
Dad nodded. “Yes, I admit, I’ve been busier lately than I’d like. What do you say to having me around more?”
“That would be great,” I replied quickly, trying hard not to get excited. We’d been down this road a lot of times before. Dad would promise to come home more, and maybe even stick to it for a month or two, before getting too busy again.
