Face-Off with my Childhood Best Friend (Spicy Pucks Hockey #4)

1. Nadia

Chapter 1

Nadia

“Break a leg, Nadia.”

I come face to face with Belle Palmer, the world’s top model. We're in the backstage room ready to walk the runway.

“I’m going to try my best not to.” I grin, sticking my leg out and showing her my shoes.

All the other models’ eyes are drawn to her captivating beauty and commanding presence.

It’s Paris Couture Week, and I’m walking for the British designer ZaraMac. Her garments are super chic, somewhere between elegance and high fashion.

Too expensive for my budget. But even though it’s pricy, the garment clings to my form, highlighting my silhouette flawlessly.

My dress is a soft, pastel green, with an off-the-shoulder design that highlights my figure. It cinches at the waist, creating a flattering silhouette that flows down to mid-calf.

These four inch high heels are torture on my feet, and I can’t help but worry that Belle cursed me.

I don’t aspire to be the model who falls and loses her slipper like Cinderella, especially since I split up with my Prince Charming recently.

Or was he?

The music starts. A pulsating rhythm that sets the pace for the models as they confidently strut down the runway.

Being ZaraMac’s prime model, Belle strides onto the runway first.

Her hips sway with a graceful fluidity, capturing the attention of everyone around her. As she reaches the end of the runway, she exudes confidence, her hand slamming on her hips, ready to face the photographers ahead.

Flashing lights capture the moment before she turns and struts back toward me.

As my cue approaches, my heart begins to race. As I take a deep breath, I feel my blood and adrenaline pumping through my veins.

Even after five years, the exhilarating feeling still remains, never losing its intensity. Though it never stops me from worrying.

As I make my way onto the runway, the intense brightness of the lights momentarily blinds me, but I quickly regain my focus and let my training take over, strutting confidently towards the end.

Whatever it takes to showcase this dress.

It’s not too challenging. The dress embraces my body so perfectly that it feels like a second skin, its fabric flowing gracefully with every step. Against my dark hair, its pale green hue creates a striking contrast that highlights my green eyes. At least that’s what ZaraMac envisioned.

I glide forward, sensing the gazes of admiration from both fashion enthusiasts and industry insiders, their eyes fixed on me as I embody ZaraMac’s vision. It’s a surreal experience, almost like a fairy tale, and one that I’ve learned to love.

If only my love life were as successful as my career.

And as the cameras flash all around me, I know I belong here, despite the doubts that have plagued me.

Continuing my walk forward on the polished catwalk, the pulsating music reverberates through my body, perfectly in sync with my confident strides.

I love this job; I travel all over the world, but it doesn’t stop me from missing home.

It’s ever since the actor Dominic Logan dumped me. He used the excuse that we were on different pages, pointing out that at twenty-four years old, I wasn’t ready to start a family.

He had a cheek, considering he was a cheating rat and also he never wanted children.

That’s actors for you.

And to be honest, I am ready for children in my life. I always have been. And he knew I was. Just not with Dominic.

Belle’s smile lights up her face as she passes me on my way to the end of the runway. I’ve no doubt that ZaraMac will join us later, and we’ll raise a glass of champagne in celebration.

At the end of the runway, I stop and strike a pose, exuding elegance and poise, with my hand resting confidently on my hip. The thunderous applause of the crowd reverberates through the room, filling me with a surge of confidence. I hold the pose for a few seconds, feeling the eyes of the audience on me, and then elegantly turn on my heel to make my way back down the runway.

The sound of my phone’s cheery ringtone pierces through the quiet, and I abruptly wake up, sitting upright in bed.

With my heart pounding, I snatch my phone from the nightstand. A wave of relief washes over me as a familiar name, “Mom,” appears on the screen, and a smile forms on my face. It’s been months since I’ve seen my family, and I can’t help but feel a pang of homesickness tugging at my heart.

I press answer, “Hi Mom.”

Her sigh fills the air, causing my stomach to twist into a tight knot. My immediate instinct is to ask what’s wrong, but I pause, the weight of anticipation holding me back.

The instant my mom pauses to catch her breath and then informs me with a heavy voice, “Your grandpa is in the hospital,” a sense of panic floods my heart.

“Oh my god,” I whisper, not sure if I want to know the answer to my next question. “Is he okay?”

With an intensified sense of fear, I feel as though my chest is being constricted by an iron band, and I mentally prepare myself for the possibility of receiving more information.

“It’s not looking good,” she murmurs.

I expect there’s an urgency to return home before my scheduled booking in Milan. Previously, the thought of strutting down the catwalk in his exquisite designs fills me with excitement, but not at the expense of not seeing my grandpa.

Although I was excited about walking his show in Milan, I know that right now, my place is at home.

“Should I come home?” The words leave my mouth impulsively. Not wondering how this might affect my future as a model.

“I’m not sure, Nads,” my mother responds, her voice trembling. “The doctors are still running tests, trying to figure out what’s wrong with him. But it doesn’t look good.”

A lump forms in my throat as I struggle to hold back my tears. I can’t bear the thought of losing him. He has always been there for me, guiding me when everyone else thought modeling was a distant and hopeful dream.

His gentle words and unwavering support were the driving force that pushed me towards success.

For as long as I can remember, Grandpa has been the epitome of strength in our family, but knowing he is lying weak in a hospital bed makes my heart drop.

I need to book my flight. “I’ll come home.”

I have to go home and help her and see him.

“Will you be penalized?” Mom asks.

“I don’t know,” I whisper. Worry kindles my gut, and I chew on my lip for a moment. “But I can’t leave him there without seeing him. What if—”

Mom gasps.

“Sorry. I’m coming home.”

“Would you like me to lend a hand with anything?” Mom asks.

“I’ll be fine.” She has enough to worry about without worrying about my plans.

“Sorry, darling.”

As I listen to my mother’s voice crack on the other end of the line, a surge of worry washes over me for my grandpa. “He’s going to live, though?”

She sighs. “He’s old, Nadia. I don’t know if he has any fight left in him. I know your work is important to you. But he misses you.”

Tear coats my eyes as I hold back my sobs. “I miss him too. I need to see him.”

“What about your modeling?” she breathes. I know she wants me home, but she doesn’t want me jeopardizing my career, either.

I take a deep breath, feeling torn between my family and my career. The stakes are high, and I know that leaving now could have consequences for my future in the modeling industry.

I’ll be the model that can’t be relied upon. But as I imagine my grandpa lying in that hospital bed, I realize that there are more important things in life than runway shows and couture dresses.

“Modeling can wait. Family always comes first. I need to be there for grandpa.”

A brief moment of silence fills the airwaves, and then a sigh of relief intermingled with gratitude reaches my ears. “Thank you, Nadia,” my mother says softly. “Your grandpa will be so happy to see you…” She hiccups a sob. “Me and your dad, too. Everyone has missed you, even Lucia. It’s not the same here without you.”

“I miss everyone, too.” I smile, surprised my sister was included.

"Then stop hiding away in Europe and come home for good," she says.

I sigh. “I’ll let you go so I can book my flight.”

“Love you, darling. Have a safe flight.”