So This Is War

Chapter One

WYLIE

A year ago . . .

“I’m so excited you’re here,” Sandie, my best friend, says as she pulls me into a hug. “And I can’t believe your dad let you catch a ride on the team plane.”

“It took a lot of begging,” I say as I adjust my gold top in the hotel mirror, making sure my breasts are exactly where I want them. “But he caved when I said I wanted to visit with you. He’s always loved you.”

“Because I wasn’t the one getting us into trouble in high school.”

I shrug as I sift through my pouch of lipsticks, trying to decide what nude color I want to wear tonight. “I helped us live life. Can’t complain about that.”

“Your dad did.”

I chuckle. “Because he’s a cranky old man who got divorced nearly twenty years ago and has refused to find love again. That would make anyone cranky.”

“He’s found love,” Sandie says. “In hockey.”

I roll my eyes because ugh, hockey. Growing up with a single father infatuated with the sport, I could have gone two ways. I could have grown to love it as much as my dad or utterly despise it because it took my dad away from me for nearly half of my life.

Can you guess which one it is?

“I hope his love affair has been worth it.” I go for my honeysuckle lip color, knowing it always makes my lips look the best.

“Seems like it has. I mean, you flew here on a team plane. Which, hey, you didn’t tell me about the flight. Did you meet any of the players?”

“No,” I say glumly. “Dad forced me to board way before any of the players. He made me sit in the back with the staff, then made me wait to deplane until after all the players got off, so zero interaction.”

“Was he afraid you might try to intermingle with them?”

“You know him, he’s always worried about me.”

“Probably because he caught Sebastian in the house several times in high school when he shouldn’t have been there.”

I chuckle. “Remember the time Sebastian climbed out the window in his underwear and sprinted down the street just to avoid my father’s wrath?”

“Yes, I still recall seeing him sprint past my house, his long hair flapping in the breeze. He joined track right after that.”

“And became All-American his senior year. He should be thanking me for opening his eyes to his speed.”

Sandie laughs. “Poor Sebastian. I wonder what he’s doing now.”

“He’s in Portland, Oregon,” I answer when I finish my lipstick and sit on my bed across from Sandie’s. “I think he’s working as an assistant coach of a track team, so yeah, he owes his career to me too.”

“You’ve done him favors left and right.” Sandie chuckles.

“Just here to help.” I smirk and take in her dress. “You know, you could borrow one of my outfits. Show off a little bit more breast . . .”

“First of all, my breasts would drown in your dress. And second of all, I don’t want to show breasts like you do.” She points at the strings that crisscross over my exposed cleavage, holding the front of the shirt together. “That’s just asking for trouble. Aren’t you afraid something will slip out?”

“No.” I shake my head. “You know me, I couldn’t care less about being naked. I wear clothes because it’s the law, not because I want to.”

“Hence the top.” She brings her hands together. “Now, what did we talk about?”

I roll my eyes. “That this night is about you and me, and I’m not to go off and try to flirt with anyone. Come on, Sandie, do you really think I would do that?”

“Uh, yes.” She nods.

“I’ll have you know, I’ve matured since the last time you saw me.”

“Says the girl who is not wearing a bra tonight.”

I never wear a bra. “And this top was for you. I wanted to show you how strong fabric can really be.”

“Ah, yes, can’t wait for you to sneeze because that will be the real show.”

I laugh. “Seriously. Just you and me tonight, okay?”

“Okay.”

We both stand, Sandie in her cute red dress that hits her mid-thigh and me in my gold top and wide-leg black pants with three-inch heels.

Sandie looks up at me. “I remember when we used to be the same height.”

“Add some heels to those flats, and we will be.” I link my arm through hers and guide us out of the hotel room. Purses in hand, we make our way to the elevator.

“So where are we going?” Sandie asks.

“I thought we could hit up the bar downstairs for food and then go to a drag show I heard about.”

“Ooo, sounds like fun.” The elevator dings, and we both get on. I press the button for the ground floor as Sandie turns toward me. “What if we run into your dad at the hotel? Do you think he’s going to make you change like he did when we were in high school?”

I laugh and shake my head. “I’m a twenty-one-year-old woman in her first semester of grad school. He doesn’t have that kind of control over me anymore.”

“Says the girl who had to sit in the back with the staff on the team plane.”

“That’s different,” I say. “That was his territory, and I was doing anything to get a ride here to see you. Now that I’m here, it’s free game.”

“I like this side of you,” Sandie says. “Not so scared of your dad and living your best life.”

“Well, possibly my best life.” I lean against the elevator wall as it stops and an elderly couple gets on. “I don’t know if I’m into what I’m studying.”

“What do you mean?” Sandie asks. “You’re getting your master’s in business. I feel like at this stage, you should be really into it.”

“The only reason I applied for grad school was because of my dad. But what am I really going to do with a master’s in business? It’s so . . . broad. And then where do I go from there? Sit behind a desk all day?”

“Doesn’t he want you to do something in the Agitators front office?”

“Yes, like business-to-business sales or something like that. Not something I’m entirely into. You know, I’ve been taking these graphic art classes on the side, and they’ve been really fulfilling. I kind of want to explore that.”

“Ooo, graphic art,” Sandie says as the elevator dings, and we let the elderly couple off first. “You would be so good at that.”

“You think?”

She gives me a come on stare. “Wylie, you’ve loved art ever since I’ve known you, and you’re good at it. This is right up your alley.”

“That’s what I was thinking. And the classes I’ve been taking are all digital art, so I’m learning the techniques I need to know. And through the class, our teacher found a contest we could enter.”

“What is it?” Sandie asks as we head toward the bar.

“It’s a concert T-shirt contest for Hayes Farrow.”

“Wait.” Sandie grips my arm, stopping us in the middle of the lobby. “THE Hayes Farrow? The singer of The Black Album?”

“The one and only,” I say. “He thought he’d open the contest to his fans. I know it’s a long shot, but my whole class is applying.” I let out a deep breath. “I just feel so energized when I’m drawing and designing. When I’m in my business class, I drift off rather than pay attention. I think I want to talk to my dad about maybe leaving school to pursue this full-time.”

Sandie winces because she knows my dad well enough to understand how that talk will go. “I’m glad I won’t be around when you have that conversation.”

“What are you talking about?” I ask. “Did you really think dinner would be just you and me?” I shake my head. “I’m telling my dad about my school news during dinner, and you’re there for backup.”

“If you weren’t wearing that shirt, I’d believe you.”

I laugh as we reach the bar. It’s a seat-yourself situation with tables, high-tops, and couches scattered throughout the grand space. Deep purple and royal blue cover the seats, while gold-accented tables are scattered throughout to make the setup a less formal but usable space. The tall ceilings allow for ornate chandeliers to hang over the room, giving the space an elegant and moody feel.