Chapter 20

Chapter 20

I couldn’t tell Heath about the money. He would’ve been furious enough to blow our last dollar flying back to Illinois just to punch Lee in the teeth.

Lee was my brother. My problem. I was determined to fix the situation myself.

So I punched my childhood number into my brand-new cellphone. It rang over and over, so many times I almost gave up and disconnected.

Finally, someone answered. “Hello?” A woman’s voice, scratchy and sultry.

“Hi.” I tried to keep the rage from seeping into my tone. Whoever she was, this situation wasn’t her fault. “Is Lee there?”

“Who’s calling?”

Even through the haze of whatever substances she was on, the edge of jealousy was obvious. How my idiot brother got all these women to give him the time of day, let alone compete over him, was beyond me.

“Katarina,” I said. “His sister.”

Shuffling sounds as she handed the phone over.

“Yeah?” Lee said, and from that word alone, I could tell he was wasted. Later in life, I acknowledged Lee’s addiction as the illness it was. But at eighteen, all I knew was that my shitty older brother was screwing me over yet again.

“Where is it, Lee?”

“Katie? Is that really y—”

“What did you do with my money?”

“ Your money?” He laughed. Halfway through, it turned into a hacking cough. “Are you fucking serious?”

“Dad left that money for me. I’m eighteen now, so—”

“So what? We both know you’ve gotten way more than your fair share.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“All those ice twirling lessons and pretty little dresses add up, princess. You know what Dad left me when he died? A big damn mess.”

I shook my head. “No. You’re lying. You blew it all on drugs, or—”

“He took out loans so you and that freeloading little creep could keep competing. Hate to break it to you, sis, but half of nothing is nothing.”

I knew skating was an expensive sport, and that our family wasn’t wealthy. But my father never complained, never hinted at any money troubles. He just kept writing checks.

If Lee needed to drain my trust to cover our father’s debts, the least he could have done was discuss it with me first. Not that I’d made myself easy to reach over the last couple of years, but as far as I knew he hadn’t even tried to find me.

“If you’re so strapped for cash,” I said, “let’s sell the house.”

“We are not selling the house,” Lee snapped, all the slur vanished from his voice.

“Why not?”

“Our ancestors built this house with their bare hands, Katie, it’s—”

“Stop calling me ‘Katie.’?”

“Our parents are buried here.”

“And you’ve never even visited their graves, Leland. ”

“What do you care?” he said. “You left. You left me here all alone.”

It was the closest my brother would ever come to saying he missed me.

The line went silent.

“Lee?” I dug my nails into the phone, scratching the satin finish. “ Lee. ”

He’d hung up on me.

With a frustrated scream, I snapped the phone shut.

“Everything all right?”

I looked up to find the locker room door open, and Garrett Lin on the threshold. Great.

Another thing I’d learned at the Lin Ice Academy: how to appear calm and composed when I was anything but. I took a deep breath, willing my pulse to slow. Gold medalists don’t scream, and they only cry pretty, photogenic tears.

“I’m fine,” I told him. “Just got some…bad news.”

Garrett’s brows knitted with concern. “I’m sorry. Anything I can help with?”

“No, no. It was more of a miscommunication. My older brother spent some money that was supposed to be for next month’s training fees.”

And last month’s, and every damn month from now until Nationals.

“I didn’t know you had a brother.” Garrett leaned against the doorframe. I could’ve sworn he was taller every time I saw him; he had almost a foot on Bella. “He lives in Illinois?”

I nodded. Despite the increasing amount of time I’d been spending with the Lins, we rarely talked about anything besides skating. No one at the Academy knew anything about my past life. The only part of it worth bringing with me was Heath.

“Well, I’d be happy to talk to my mom,” Garrett said. “I’m sure she’ll have no problem with you paying a little later.”

I didn’t want to tell him his mother had already allowed us several generous extensions. The Grand Prix money might be enough to get out of that hole, but without the inheritance, we’d fall right back into debt. There was little chance of repeating our victory at the next competition, where we’d be facing off against both the Lins and the Russians.

“That’s okay,” I said. “I’ll handle it.”

“Maybe I can help,” Garrett said.

“That’s really nice, Garrett.” If he’d pitied me, I could have hated him, but Garrett was so goddamn sweet and earnest. I wondered what it would have been like to have a brother like him, instead of the deadbeat I’d been stuck with. “But I can’t take money from you.”

“That’s not what I meant.” He stepped forward, letting the door swing shut behind him. “What are you doing next Saturday? I might be able to hook you up with a job.”

An ad campaign photo shoot, Garrett explained, for an athleisure brand. Bella would be there too. The company was on the smaller side, popular mostly in Asian markets, but they were always looking for spokesmodels who could move well in front of the camera.

“It doesn’t pay that much,” he said. “The designer’s an old acquaintance of my mother, though, and if he likes you, he might book you again in the future.”

“I appreciate the offer.” I hesitated, chewing on my lip.

“But?” Garrett prompted.

“I mean, I’m not exactly…a model.”

“What are you talking about?” He smiled. “You’re gorgeous.”

He’s just trying to be nice. That’s what I’d said to Heath at the Fourth of July party, and as I stood in that locker room with Garrett Lin gazing into my eyes, I told myself the same thing.

Heath wouldn’t like this. But Heath didn’t have to know—about the modeling job, the missing inheritance money, any of it. I’d take care of everything myself, and we would keep going, on to the next gold medal.

“Thank you,” I told Garrett. “I’ll be there.”