Chapter 20Avery
Chapter Twenty
Avery
I wipe down another table, the clatter and chatter of the lunchtime rush fading as I snatch a moment for myself. Finally, break time. Slipping into the back, I plop onto the worn-out sofa in the break room and fish my phone out of my apron pocket.
Samantha
Hey, you guys heard about Coach Marty?
Avery
News to me.
What's up?
Emily
Wait, what happened??
Samantha
Apparently, he's not coming back this season.
Some family stuff he needs to take care of.
Jessica
Who's gonna coach the kids then?
Samantha
Get this—Victor's stepping in.
Temporarily, until they find someone.
Emily
Victor?!
As in... Victor Stone?
Samantha
Yup. Daddy Stone himself.
Avery
I'm a little surprised.
You'd think he'd be able to pay some other professional to take Marty's place.
Turn it into another PR opportunity.
Samantha
When you keep hating on the man, it only makes me think you like him more.
Avery
Jessica
Can he even skate?
Emily
Guess we'll find out at practice tonight.
Avery
And where did you scoop up this little nugget, Sam?
Samantha
Let's just say I have my sources.
I roll my eyes, the action lost on the empty break room. Trusting Samantha's "sources" is like trusting a weather forecast in New England—it might be accurate, but you wouldn't bet your Sunday plans on it. Still, with her husband being a local firefighter, he probably catches secrets as much as he does smoke. Maybe she isn't just crying wolf this time.
My thumb idles, swiping through previous messages, looking for his name—Victor. No new texts. Not since that breakfast where he actually seemed to get it, where he looked at me not just as some obstacle but as someone worth listening to. My chest tightens a bit, and I hate that it does when I think about him. I'm not supposed to care.
"Probably busy planning world domination or something," I mutter under my breath, trying to sound nonchalant even though there's no one around to hear.
It was a surprise how he didn't dismiss me outright, didn't patronize. He listened. And for a fleeting second, I thought maybe we could find some common ground. But now? Each tick-tock of silence chips away at that hope. It's probably all part of his strategy, right? Know thy enemy?
"Playing games is what they do best," I type out a new message to the group but delete it before sending. No need to air my skepticism even more.
I tap my thumbs against the screen, the glow casting shadows on the dingy walls of the employee break room.
Avery
Board meeting's in two weeks. We need a game plan.
Y'all coming to practice tonight?
Emily
Yep, Ethan's pumped for the scrimmage.
Samantha
Same here, Sophia wouldn't miss it.
Jessica
Can't stay, just drop off and pick up. Tyler's got gymnastics.
Avery
Gotcha. Tonight's important. We need to rally more support against Victor's project.
Samantha
Thought you were going to give the man a chance after your little breakfast meeting.
Avery
I gave him a chance to listen to the community's concerns, and it's been a week and nothing.
Samantha
Sounds like someone's a little upset that she hasn't gotten a text back.
Avery
Hardly
Emily
Of course, we've got your back, Avery.
Sam is just trying to rile you up.
Samantha
It's what I do best. You know I love you, A.
Avery
I know.
I'm going to try and figure out what we can do to bolster more support before tonight's meeting.
Jessica
Always the strategist.
Avery
Ha, hardly.
Just desperate.
Samantha
Desperation breeds creativity, right?
Avery
God, I hope so.
I glance at the time.
Avery
Gotta go. Break's over.
See you tonight.
Jessica
Bye!
Emily
Later.
Samantha
Toodles.
I'm shoving my phone back into the apron pocket when the break room door swings open. It's Pete, one of the line cooks, all flour-dusted and harried.
"Hey, Avery," he pants, "slammed out there, need you."
"Coming." I push up from the sofa, snagging my tray off the table. The familiar clatter of dishes and hum of conversation filters through the walls, calling me back to the chaos of the lunch rush.
"Thanks, Ave, you're a lifesaver," Pete says, already turning to hustle back to his battlefield of burners and pans.
"Tell me something I don't know," I quip, but he's gone.
I take a step towards the fray, then stop. My phone buzzes against my thigh, insistent. Who now? Probably Samantha with another last-minute quip.
I fish it out, thumb swiping the screen. But it's not Samantha. My heart does a weird little skip—Victor Stone lighting up my notifications.
Victor
Can we talk about the development over dinner? After practice maybe?
The text reads plain as day, but my head's spinning all fancy-like.
"Uh..." I mumble to myself. Is this a good sign or bad? A chance to plead my case, or another round of him being Mr. Corporate Ice King?
"Everything okay?" Pete’s voice drifts in, distant concern.
"Fine!" I holler back, more pep than I feel. "Just a sec!"
Dinner with Victor could swing things for us. It might give me more information on what he intends to present before the Board. But can I trust him?
His blue eyes flash in my mind—sharp, searching. My heart tries to convince my mind that maybe he's starting to thaw. Logically, though, I know that's a dangerous assumption.
Avery
Okay, but this time you're doing the talking.
Victor
As you wish.