Thin Ice

by April Cronin

  Harmony hadn't hesitated however to give her the assistant manager position. She'd managed a diner in her youth, coming here once it closed down, like so many places in the county had over the years. And Chelsea had shown no indication of resenting having to work for someone much younger than her, let alone the daughter of the man she was now dating.

  “Ladies,” she said, folding her hands on the desk in front of her. “What can I do for you?”

  In that moment, Harmony felt less like the boss herself, and more like any other employee. Thankfully, Kate spoke up before Harmony embarrassed herself.

  “I'm going to take my break now; can you watch the floor? Harmony and I have some things we need to talk about.”

  Chelsea regarded her, taking in the shadows under her eyes, the moisture that now threatened to spill over. “Is everything okay?” she asked, her voice softening as she stood and made her way around the desk, placing a hand on Harmony's back. “Is something wrong with Bill?” Apparently, she was one of the few that hadn't heard about Peter. That or her feelings for Harmony's father ran deeper than she

  first realized.

  “No, no.” Harmony said, shaking her head. “My dad's fine.”

  Relieved, Chelsea let out the breath that she had been holding. “Oh thank goodness.” She leaned up against the front of the desk then, folding her arms across her chest, “It's about that Peter fellow isn't it?” She continued, dashing Harmony's hopes that not everyone had heard about her dating the hockey player. “Your father told me about what happened, it must be hard.”

  Harmony nodded, her lower lip trembling.

  Taking that as her cue, Kate placed a protective arm around her shoulder and ushered her from the room, looking over her shoulder at Chelsea, “I'll be back in an hour.” she said.

  Chelsea gave a curt bow of her head, not moving until after the girls were out of view and headed for the stairs.

  Kate lead her to her car in the parking lot, a little Nissan her parents had given her for graduation, and after turning on the ignition to get the air cranking, she tuned into her favorite radio station, setting the volume on low so they would have some sort of background noise to cut through the silence.

  “So what's going on?” she finally asked.

  Some sad song was wafting through the speakers, a lonely man singing about the loss of his lover. How ironic. She thought to herself, fighting to hold back the pain and the tears that clung to her ducts, the dam all but overflowing at this point. She took a deep breath, she wouldn't cry.

  “I don't know how to make myself believe him,” Harmony answered, pressing her face into her palms in an attempt to keep the tears at bay for just a little longer.

  Nodding, though Harmony couldn't see it, Kate leaned back in her seat. She had to tread lightly here. “Have you tried looking at things logically?” She eventually managed, causing Harmony to lift her head and look at her, the glassiness of her gaze truly sobering and heart-wrenching at the same time.

  “Don't you think I've tried to?” Harmony shook her head. “I keep going over things. How he looked that night, how he acted.” She sighed, “how he kissed me.”

  Kate bit her lip, this was all news to her. Harmony had admitted to seeing Peter, but she'd given nothing away. Not even an involuntary facial reflex to indicate that they'd been intimate in any way. Though she should have guessed, why else would a woman be so torn otherwise? Her heart was clearly in it, as well as her body. Kate couldn't imagine how she would react in the same situation, then again, she didn't know all the facts either.

  “Why don't you start at the beginning?” Kate asked, placing what she hoped was a comforting hand on Harmony's knee. Then, as though sensing her apprehension, she added, “I promise this'll stay between the two of us.”

  Clearly all the reassurance she needed, Harmony spilled her guts. She told her everything, starting at the beginning and ending with her discussion earlier this morning with Andre. She, of course, glossed over the intimate details in the middle. Let Kate put two and two together on her own, surely at her age she had enough of an imagination to fill in the blanks.

  “Is it okay for me to jealous?” Kate said when she had finished, causing Harmony to blush before giving her a most indignant stare that had Kate laughing. “Alright, so maybe I'm not jealous about the whole assault thing, but my god Harmony. Peter Petrovic?” she shook her head as though in disbelief, “I did some research on him after he came into the store, and man oh man, he is one yummy piece of prime rib!”

  Despite herself, Harmony couldn't help but smile, which she supposed was Kate's plan all along. “You did some research huh?” she sniffed, wiping the sleeve of her shirt against her nose as she finally managed to get hold of her emotions. “What'd you find out? If you don't mind my asking.”

  “Not much.” She admitted, glad that her distraction was slowly improving Harmony's mood. “There were tons of articles in Russian, that I obviously couldn't read, and some more about his stats and what not, you know, his family. That kind of stuff.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah. I did read one about an old girlfriend though, that was kind of interesting.”

  Harmony seemed to perk up, straightening out her shoulders, “Oh?” she said again, though this time in a more questioning manner.

  Kate nodded. “Uh huh. I think it said she was a student of his mother's, some famous ice skater or another.”

  “Not just some famous ice skater.” Harmony cut in, “His mother is a two-time Olympian.”

  “Right whatever.” Kate retorted, waving a hand in dismissal. “Anyway. She was his mother's student, and they dated for like two or three years, I don't really remember.”

  “Was she pretty?”

  “I guess so, yeah.”

  As Kate shrugged, Harmony tried to conjure up what this ex-girlfriend might have looked like. “Let me guess, she was tall, with blonde hair and blue eyes?” She grumbled.

  “Nope,” Kate replied cheerfully. “She was kind of short, and exotic.”

  “Exotic?”

  “Yeah. She had long black hair and a heart shaped face with slanted eyes that were really dark. I think her mother was Japanese. Yeah, I think that's what it said.”

  “Huh, and she studied in Russia? I thought most skaters studied here, or like, in their own countries.”

  “Guess not. The article said she was American. Anyways, now that you're not on the brink of tears anymore, why don't you tell me why you're so hell-bent on avoiding Peter?” Kate stared her down then, her eyes going to little slits as she continued to harp on her. “It's not like you to back down from anything, in fact, it's probably what I admire most about you. You have good instincts Harmony, what are they telling you?”

  Harmony scoffed. “Good instincts. Yeah.”

  “Oh come on, you're not thinking about what happened with Hector are you?” Kate scolded, her patience starting to wear thin.

  Harmony winced. She'd forgotten that she'd confided to Kate about that particular subject. Maybe she was better at keeping a secret then she realized.

  “Seriously,” Kate went on. “Think about it Harm, if you didn't have such good instincts do you think any of this would have happened.” As if to make a point, Kate moved her hand to indicate the grocery store in front of them.

  “That had nothing to do with instinct Kate, my father just happened to be ready to retire that's all.”

  “That's bullshit and you know it! You're twenty-four years old Harmony, and the general manager of a profitable store. No way would your father have turned the ropes over to you if he didn't think, no make that if he didn't know that you could handle it, and you've already made some pretty amazing changes to the place.” She took a breath, her hands falling into her lap with frustration. “Like I said, you have good instincts.”

  “Then how did I get mixed up with a guy like Hector? Or a guy like Peter?”

  “Don't you dare put Peter in the same category as that thug!”

 
Kate's staunch defense of a man she didn't know had Harmony's hackles rising, though she couldn't have said why when she wanted so badly to defend him herself, “and why not?” she asked in earnest, hoping that Kate's insight might prove to be valuable to her own opinion of Peter.

  “First off, Peter hasn't been charged with anything, and maybe I'm no cop, but I would think that if the 'evidence',” she said with little finger quotes, “was so damning, they would have arrested him by now. And secondly, Hector was caught in the act, Peter's case is based solely on the accusation of one girl.”

  She wasn't convinced. “I hear what you're saying, and well, like I said, Andre's story was pretty contradictory to the girl’s statement, but I just don't know.”

  “Okay, then how do you feel?”

  Harmony had to think about it for a minute, she stared down at her hands, as if willing them to answer for her. Finally, shaking her head, she said so softly that it came out in nearly a whisper, “I want to believe him. My heart says he's innocent.”

  “There you go then,” Kate said matter of factly.

  “It can't be that easy,” Harmony replied, her brow furrowing.

  “Why can't it?” Kate touched her shoulder, drawing her focus, “look at this place Harm,” She said, indicating the grocery store once more. “Your instinct told you to sell off the land to that developer, simple as that, and now you're the general manager, who only has to work once a week. Why can't this be just as simple?”

  Harmony had to admit she had a point, even if the two weren't so easily comparable. “It wasn't that easy Kate.”

  Her statement earned her a glare.

  “Okay okay.” She surrendered, “I get what you're saying. My instincts told me not to throw that guy out on his ass, I listened to him, and I made a sound decision based on logic and reasoning.” It came to her then, and Kate smiled as the realization crossed her face. “You think I should talk to Peter, hear what he has to say.”

  Chapter 15

  Tired of Waiting

  Peter paced the living room floor. He was going nuts, he was sure of it. Days had gone by since last he'd seen the sun. Moving the curtains aside he looked out the window to his driveway, a news van was still camped out front. He was growing increasingly tired of feeling like a prisoner, and while he could easily slip into the garage and drive out the alley in Viktor's car, surely they would make him and follow. Their cameras flashing rapidly in his face every time they managed to corner him.

  He didn't even bother getting the newspaper anymore for fear they might be lying in wait to ram their microphones in his face and spit questions out at him in rapid fire succession. Peter longed for the time when he would get back out on the ice, start training camp, but even then, he probably wouldn't be able to escape the dogging press and their raging accusations. Why couldn't they just leave him alone?

  Sadie looked up from her spot on the couch, whining once as she watched Peter continue to pace, she laid her head back down onto her paws and let out one long doggy sigh. Even she wasn't immune to the stress. Peter watched her drift back off to sleep, a sad smile playing fleetingly across his face. He wondered if he'd run into Harmony if he could somehow manage to outrun the press and make it to the dog park where they'd met.

  He'd give anything to go back to that day.

  With what he knew now, Peter surely could have changed things given the chance, he would never have gone to that bar. But you can't change the past. Damned if he was going to continue on in his present situation though.

  Andre had stopped by that morning. It was a brief visit, but a welcome one. Viktor wasn't coming back until a week before training camp, and Andre was getting ready himself to go home to Canada for a week or so, but he wanted to check in on Peter first, see how he was doing. He hadn't liked the shadows under his eyes, or how pale his skin and irises looked, had, in fact, said as much, but given that Peter was pretty much holed up in here alone, he didn't really expect anything else.

  He tried to give Peter hope, tried to tell him that everything would indeed be alright, he'd see. But how could he? Andre's life wasn't in turmoil, his career on the line, the girl of his dreams at arm’s length as he suffered in silence. Peter figured there were few people in the world that could truly appreciate the situation he was in, and he pitied them, more now than ever. Hadn't he seen this happen to other guys in the league? Wasn't that why he was so careful when he went out?

  Andre took women home with him on a regular basis, and yet, not one of them had dared try anything of this sort on him. The very girl accusing him of this heinous crime had indeed slept with Andre mere weeks ago, and still, it was Peter she had gone after. A man she had no more than hugged, someone she'd said all of a handful of words too. It just didn't make any sense.

  Hell, even though he'd signed this big spiffy contract, Andre was the one who currently made more money. Peter didn't have the kind of endorsements Andre did. And while Andre was still settling on a deal that his agent was currently working out, he'd made more money last season than Peter. Both of them had been on two-year entry level contracts, Peter having come over from the KHL and Andre having been brought up from the AHL, but Andre's contract had earned him a few thousand more. So why Peter?

  Perhaps it was the language barrier? Or maybe she felt, given his background, that Peter would be an easier mark? Poor little Russian didn't know the ways of the world, let's take him for all he's worth. Was that it? Was it as simple as his naivety? Or had this been about revenge? Was it because Peter wouldn't sleep with her? And why should he have?

  She was plain by anyone's standards, it just so happened that Andre in his callous youth didn't have much in the way of standards. Of course, given the gravity of the situation, and how closely he was involved, Andre was bound to change his ways, lest he ends up the one in the hot seat next time.

  Peter tried to shrug it all off. In less than a month he would report to training camp. He would have a new season to look forward to, plenty to occupy his time and his thoughts. But what to do with himself now? He wished Harmony was here. He wanted her to believe in his innocence, take away his pain, and allow him to distract them both.

  No matter how many times he tried to call her though, both on her cell and at work, he never got through. A girl at the grocery store had informed him that she only worked once a week now, and he had just missed her. He wondered what that was about. Was she okay? Why had she gone from working six days a week to just one?

  Had he caused such pain for her that she couldn't even face working anymore? She had seemed to love that store, to enjoy her job. He couldn't live with himself if he'd hurt her so badly. He had to talk to her.

  After trying her phone one more time, and getting the voicemail after a couple of rings, he peered out the window once again, noted that the van had left, probably for lunch, they were never gone for long after all, and decided it was now or never.

  He had to see her. Now.

  Peter threw on some jeans and a t-shirt, slipped into his riding jacket and boots, then headed into the garage, at least if took the Ducati he could outrun those bastards. He certainly didn't want them to follow him to Harmony's house, she'd been through enough already, he was sure of it. So far she'd been kept out of the press, and he'd see to it if he could keep it that way.

  About half an hour later, taking various side roads and alleys just in case anyone had been keeping tabs on him, Peter pulled up in front of Harmony's building, and as luck would have it, she was home.

  “Peter.” She said, answering the door before he even managed to knock. “What are you doing here?”

  He could have sworn he'd seen something flicker in her gaze, the briefest hint of longing, or desire. But upon closer examination, he figured he must have seen what he so desperately wanted to see, for as she looked at him with her watchful eyes, dark smudges underneath, all he found now was a weariness, one that made him ache deep within the marrow of his bones.

  She looked as though she'd lost so
me weight, her cheeks a little slimmer, her curves less defined. And Peter cursed himself for it. His beautiful luscious Harmony was dwindling before his very eyes. It was all his fault. No. He had to stop blaming himself, he couldn't have known what was going through the mind of that monster when she had asked for an autograph.

  Peter had come across many fans since arriving in the US and taking up with the Slashers organization, and after narrowly missing out on rookie of the year, then earning himself a consideration for the Norris Trophy this year, people had become even more aware of him. He had already been finding it harder and harder to go out in public without being accosted by fans, and now, of course, that would increase two fold, though probably not in a positive fashion. Though he'd yet to test that theory.

  He didn't really care what his fans thought at this point though. Not really. Okay, maybe he did to a certain extent, but he had the backing and support of his family, as well as his team and the entire Slashers organization. Even the commissioner of the NHL had given him his support, off the record of course, but he still had it. And that was what mattered. Not a bunch of people that couldn't see past his income and skill set.

  Except Harmony.

  He needed Harmony. He wanted her to believe him, and it was time they talked. Hell, it was past time that they had it out. He wasn't going to let her ignore him a second longer.

  “May I come in?” he asked, shifting his helmet from the crook of one arm to the other.

  Harmony nodded, taking a step back so he could enter. He was here, Peter was really here.

  For a moment she had been tempted to tell him to go home. After her conversation with Kate earlier in the day, she needed more time to really think things over. But seeing him before her, how pale he was, and how utterly haunted he looked, she couldn't turn him away.

  And hadn't she been hoping he'd stop by? Hadn't she jumped up and looked out the window every time she heard a noise that so much as resembled a motorcycle? She'd freaked Lupus out more than once with the way she had lunged off the couch so fast. That's how she'd known to open the door before he'd knocked.