Chapter Twenty-One Billie Hartley #3
Billie stood near the entry arch and watched donations climb.
Twenty-two thousand.
Twenty-three.
Twenty-four.
At twenty-five thousand, Harper screamed.
The lobby erupted.
Graham Vale, standing near the sponsor table, smiled like a man who had just realised community support could humble polished money too.
Mark looked like he might cry.
Evie definitely did.
Nate lifted Max into the air like he had scored a playoff winner.
Alby shouted at him to put the child down.
Max yelled, “MATCH UNLOCKED!”
The crowd cheered.
Mason looked at Billie.
Billie looked at the tracker.
Twenty-five thousand raised.
Twenty-five thousand matched.
Fifty thousand dollars for junior gear.
Her knees almost forgot their job.
Mason’s hand appeared near hers.
Not touching.
Offering.
She looked at it.
Then him.
The rink was full. Cameras everywhere. People watching.
Not safe.
Not private.
But also not wrong.
Billie slid her fingers into his for one brief second.
One squeeze.
Thank you.
Beside.
Then she let go.
Mason’s face changed like she had given him something much larger.
Maybe she had.
At 3:42, Harper rushed over, face tight.
Billie’s stomach dropped. “What?”
Harper held up her phone.
“Ryan just went live again.”
Billie’s blood cooled.
Mason stepped closer.
Harper played the video low.
Ryan stood somewhere outside. Close enough that traffic noise matched the road near the rink.
“Funny how they call it community when they lock people out,” Ryan said, smiling too brightly. “But don’t worry. I wouldn’t miss the Ice Queen’s big performance.”
Billie looked toward Talia.
The guard was already moving.
Harper’s phone buzzed with a text from Amelia.
AMELIA: He’s there. I tried to stop him. I’m sorry.
Billie turned toward the front doors.
Through the glass, beyond the line of arriving families, Ryan Vale stood across the car park in sunglasses and a grey jacket, phone in hand.
He smiled when he saw her.
Mason’s entire body went rigid.
Billie stepped closer to him.
“Beside,” she said.
His jaw flexed.
Then he nodded.
Beside.
Security moved first.
Talia and Omar stepped outside.
Mark followed at a distance.
Gabe moved to intercept two reporters who had noticed the shift.
Harper killed the lobby music and switched the display screen to the donation tracker, keeping eyes inside.
Smart girl.
The crowd buzzed but did not panic.
Billie walked to the front doors.
Mason walked beside her.
Not ahead.
Not behind.
Ryan lifted his phone higher.
“Billie!” he called through the glass and distance. “Going to tell everyone what you did for the money?”
Billie opened the front door.
Mason’s hand twitched.
She felt it.
But he stayed.
Good man.
Terrible man.
Her voice carried clean across the entrance.
“Ryan Vale, you are not authorised to enter Harbour Ice Centre or attend today’s event.”
Ryan laughed. “Public fundraiser, Billie. What are you hiding?”
“Nothing.” She lifted one of the printed packets Harper had prepared. “Financial safeguards are public. Sponsor status is public. Your banned-entry notice is public too, if you’d like me to read it louder.”
A few people near the doors murmured.
Ryan’s smile flickered.
Talia spoke calmly. “Sir, you need to leave the property.”
“I’m on the footpath.”
“You crossed into the private car park while filming guests,” Omar said. “Leave now.”
Ryan’s eyes moved to Mason. “What about you, Reed? Still playing guard dog for the woman using you?”
Mason’s breath changed.
Billie heard it.
So did Ryan.
That was what he wanted.
A reaction.
A headline.
Tall Regret threatens former rink employee.
Mason Reed loses temper before charity event.
Billie’s hand brushed Mason’s wrist, tiny and hidden.
He looked at her.
She shook her head once.
His gaze returned to Ryan.
Then Mason smiled.
Not charming.
Not angry.
Almost pitying.
“Donate online, mate,” he said. “Kids still need gear.”
For one stunned second, Ryan had no answer.
Behind Billie, Max’s voice rose from inside the lobby.
“THAT WAS MY LINE!”
The crowd laughed.
The tension cracked.
Ryan’s face flushed.
Talia stepped closer. “Time to leave.”
Ryan backed away, still filming. “This isn’t over.”
Billie smiled.
Cold.
Public.
Unbothered.
“You keep saying that,” she said. “And yet the total keeps going up.”
Inside, Harper shouted, “Twenty-six thousand!”
The lobby cheered.
Ryan’s face twisted.
He turned and walked away, phone still raised, security following until he crossed the property line.
Billie closed the door.
For one second, she stood with her hand on the handle and felt the entire rink behind her breathing.
Mason’s voice came low beside her.
“You were magnificent.”
She looked at him.
“Do not praise me during active security events.”
His mouth curved. “When should I?”
“After.”
His eyes held hers.
“After,” he said.
The promise in that one word nearly undid her.
Then the arena announcer’s voice echoed through Harbour Ice Centre.
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Sydney Ice Charity Shootout.”
The crowd roared.
Billie turned toward the ice.
Friday had begun.
And Mason Reed, Tall Regret himself, was about to skate into the middle of it.