It only took one day for Imogen to email me with the promo she wanted me to do. An interview with a morning show in Miami. Now, I’m sitting at the gate in the airport terminal, waiting for her to join me. We’re flying down tonight because we have to be at the studio at five in the morning tomorrow.
My phone rings, and when I see it’s my mom, I debate whether I want to answer it, but I slide my thumb over the screen. We barely catch up with one another these days.
“Hey, Mom,” I answer.
“Great game the other night. You’re making a name for yourself down there.”
“Yeah, I’ve had some luck come my way.”
She sounds impressed, but I still feel disconnected from Ford, and the more Drake works with me on the ice, the angrier Ford seems to become. Eventually, it’ll come to a head on the ice or
