Melting the Ice (A Play-by-Play Novel)

“You’re right. That dress is perfect.”


“It is,” Tierra said. “So leave it alone and come talk to me about how you want this shirt stitched. I also have a question about the fabric for this dress. The patterns aren’t matching up like they should.”

The next couple of hours were a flurry of activity. By the time they ended for the day, it was nearly eight p.m. Carolina headed back to her apartment, mentally and physically exhausted.

She changed into yoga pants and pulled a sweater over her long-sleeved shirt, then fixed a frozen Chinese microwaveable meal and sat on the couch cross-legged. She grabbed the remote, needing some mindless television to wind down her brain after today’s intense work session.

She surfed channels, not finding anything that suited her. When she landed on tonight’s hockey game, she stopped, set the remote on the arm of the chair, and watched the game while she ate.

The Travelers were tied one to one with Nashville’s team going into the second period.

After her not-so-stellar showing on the ice skating rink Thanksgiving Day, Carolina watched the ease with which the skaters raced across the ice, sticks in hand. She couldn’t help but focus on Drew as he fought a Nashville player for the puck, always so impressed with his skill on his skates. He’d been so calm and patient with her that day when he could have just as easily blown her off to showboat his superior skating prowess. Instead, he’d put his arm around her and slowly made his way around the ice with her.

Okay, so he wasn’t the jerk he’d been in college. At least he hadn’t been that day at the rink. But he’d still tried his best to get in her pants.

Then again, she hadn’t exactly been throwing off stay away from me signals, had she?

Pondering that thought, she focused again on the game. She hadn’t heard from Drew since she’d asked him to leave her apartment that night. When he’d told her it wasn’t over.

Yet he hadn’t called her and hadn’t been back.

She rolled her eyes and took her bowl to the sink, rinsed it and put it in the dishwasher.

Did she expect him to follow up, to chase her down like he’d promised?

“What is wrong with you? You don’t want or need him in your life except to model your clothes.”

She marched into the living room, determined to change the channel. But her phone rang and she picked it up, smiling when she saw who it was.

“Stella. What’s up?”

“I’m downstairs. Are you busy?”

“Not at all. I just came home and threw on sweats. Long day.”

“I’m coming up. Buzz me in.”

Stella was Carolina’s best friend, and you just didn’t say no to her. Besides, she could use the pick-me-up, and since Stella was a fireball of energy, she couldn’t think of a more perfect time for a visit. She buzzed her up and went to the door to let her in.

“Hello, love,” Stella said as she breezed through the door and shrugged off her short leather jacket.

“Your style always kills me, Stell,” Carolina said.

Stella looked down at herself. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing now, oh fashion maven?”

“Not a damn thing. You’re stunning as always.” Carolina looked at Stella, always marveling at her friend’s fashion sense. Stella was tall, so the black leggings showcased her amazing dancer’s legs. She wore a gauzy top that rode to her hips, and finished the look with distressed combat boots. With her spiky short blonde hair and her sexy, killer blue eyes, the woman was a man magnet.

Stella waved her hand. “Stunning, my ass. And you look like shit. Have you slept yet this year?”

“And to think I wanted to see you so you could brighten up my day.”

“No you wanted to see me because you know I’ll bitch slap you with the truth. You’re working too many hours. And I brought beer.”

Carolina wrinkled her nose. “When have I ever liked beer? And you know I have to work a lot right now.”

“Whatever. I’m putting the beer in your fridge. And because I know you’re a beer hater, I also bought wine. The good kind—not even from a box.”

Carolina laughed. “You’re so sweet to think of me. Let’s get to drinking.”

Stella popped a beer, then fumbled through Carolina’s gadget drawer for the corkscrew and drew the cork out of the wine bottle while Carolina grabbed a glass from the cabinet.

“And you bought a cabernet. You remembered.”

Cocking a hip, Stella waved the corkscrew at her. “Of course I remembered. We’ve been friends for almost six years now.”

“I know. But you’d be surprised how many self-absorbed people I know.”

Stella handed Carolina the glass, then lifted her beer and clinked it against Carolina’s wineglass. “Honey, I work in the dancing world. I know all about self-absorbed.”

Carolina led her into the living room and they sat on the sofa. Stella’s gaze strayed to the television and she cocked a brow. “Hockey? You’re watching hockey?”

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