ICE COLD

Chapter Three: Strings Attached

The buzz of conversation filled the tiny café on the corner of Fifth Avenue, a place Jenna had claimed as her refuge years ago. Here, between the clatter of cups and the scent of roasted beans and cinnamon pastries, she could pretend the world wasn’t so heavy.

She cupped her hands around the pink ceramic mug in front of her, soaking up the heat. The wall clock at the far end ticked past 10:30 p.m.

She sighed. "Another day survived."

“Earth to Jenna,” a familiar voice teased.

Rachel Steve slid into the booth opposite her, tossing her glossy auburn hair over one shoulder. Always radiant, always put together—tonight in a cream blazer, skinny jeans, and sleek black heels—Rachel looked like she’d walked straight out of a lifestyle magazine. She was born to wealth, raised in comfort, and now, she runs a successful fashion podcast, Rachel lived the kind of life Jenna envied.

“You spaced out again,” Rachel smirked, reaching for a menu. “What’s the excuse this time?"

“Sorry,” Jenna murmured. “It’s been a day.”

“When isn’t it?” Rachel smiled, opening the menu. “Tell me your boss didn’t try his creepy shoulder rub again.”

Jenna groaned, sinking into her seat. “Not today. But give it time. He practically finds new ways to make breathing in the office unbearable.”

Rachel groaned. “Jenna, I swear one day I’ll march into your office and pour hot coffee on that bastard. You deserve better than being his target.”

“I need the job, Rach,” Jenna replied softly. “Quitting isn’t an option.”

Rachel rolled her eyes. “Then one of these days, I'mma force you to quit, and we’re going to open that expensive wine bar we always talk about.”

Jenna laughed faintly. “And pay for it with what? My dreams? Because my bank account is running on fumes.”

Rachel gave her a pointed look. “Or you could come work with me. You know my offer stands.”

Jenna smiled faintly, shaking her head. “Fashion’s your dream, Rachel, not mine.”

Rachel opened her mouth to argue—but before she could, a shadow fell across their table.

“Ladies.”

Collin Klein stood there, grinning like the café belonged to him. Leather jacket, messy brown hair, that smug confidence that had once swept Jenna off her feet. He bent down, pressing a kiss against her cheek. He smelled faintly of whiskey masked with cologne.

He's been drinking again.

“You didn’t tell me we were having company, Rachel,” Jenna said flatly, sipping her coffee.

"I didn't know he'd be here," she mouthed quietly.

“I knew I’d find you here,” Colin said smoothly, sliding into the booth beside her without waiting for an invitation. His arm draped across the back of the seat, brushing her shoulders.

Jenna’s chest tightened. He always did this—invading her space, acting in that irking possessiveness that makes her cringe. Comfort and irritation tangled in her gut.

“Colin,” she said, facing him. “Didn’t know you were in the neighborhood.”

“Babe, I’m always around when you need me. You're always the one to push me away in that cold-hearted temper of yours,” he said, eyes glinting. Then, with a slow turn of his head, he added, “Rachel.”

“Colin,” Rachel replied evenly. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, smoothing her blazer as if she were suddenly aware of herself.

Jenna’s brows rose. “What’s with you two? You’re acting like strangers meeting for the first time.”

Rachel laughed, too quickly. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Yeah,” Colin said with a tight grin, clenching his fist on the table before relaxing it. “Ridiculous.”

The silence that followed felt heavier than the café chatter around them.

“So,” Jenna said, forcing lightness into her tone. “How was your day, Colin?”

Colin leaned back, flashing his trademark grin. “Better now. Actually, I’ve got something big in the works. A new opportunity—real money this time. Not scraps like your nine-to-five.”

Jenna arched an eyebrow. “What happened to the last one? The one that was supposed to change everything?”

He waved dismissively. “Not every deal hits, babe. You know that. But this one… this one’s different.”

Rachel let out a quiet snort into her coffee. “Different. Haven’t heard that one before.”

Colin’s gaze flicked to her, sharp for a split second before he smoothed it over with a smile. “Always the skeptic, Rachel. But that’s okay—some of us just see possibilities where others see walls.”

Jenna felt the tug in her chest. Part of her wanted to believe him. Needed to. She was so tired of bills, of exhaustion, of scraping by. And yet… the pile of IOUs he owed her echoed louder than his words.

Still, when he leaned close and lowered his voice just for her, it was hard to ignore. “Trust me, Jen. Once this comes through, you’ll never have to worry again. You, your mom, her medications and treatment? Taken care of. For good.”

Her heart ached with equal parts hope and doubt.

Rachel set down her cup, eyes narrowing slightly. “Fairytales sound nice, Colin. But people can’t live on promises.”

Colin’s jaw ticked, the vein at his neck pulsing. Jenna noticed. For a moment, she braced for his anger—the same anger he’d usually turned on her in private when she questioned him. But tonight, he only chuckled, kissing the top of her head again.

“Don’t worry, babe,” he said smoothly. “Rachel just doesn’t know me like you do.”

Jenna smiled faintly, sipping her coffee, though unease prickled her skin. Something felt off. He should’ve exploded. He didn’t.

Maybe, she thought, maybe he was changing.

"Let just all drink and have a normal conversation, alright?" Jenna said, easing the tension that was already building.

***** ***** *****

The café had thinned out by the time they finished their drinks. The clatter of dishes from the kitchen was softer now, the hum of conversation replaced by the occasional hiss of the espresso machine.

Rachel checked her phone and sighed. “I should get going. I’ve got an early podcast taping tomorrow.” She glanced at Jenna meaningfully. “You’ll be okay?”

Jenna smiled, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yeah. I’ll be fine.”

Rachel nodded slowly, then slid out of the booth. She gave Colin a polite half-smile. “Goodnight, Colin.”

“Night, Rachel,” he replied, with his boyish wide grin.

Jenna noticed Collin brushed his hand against Rachel as she leaves, and she returned it with a smile.

What's with this two? she thought.

His eyes followed Rachel until she disappeared out the door.

As soon as she was gone, Collin shifted closer, his arm tightening around Jenna’s shoulders. “Finally. Just us.”

Jenna stiffened but didn’t move away. She hated how easily he slipped under her skin, how part of her still craved the warmth of his attention even when the rest of her screamed to run.

“You didn’t come by tonight,” he murmured, his breath brushing her ear. "I told you to. Are you rebelling now, Jenna?"

“I told you,” Jenna said carefully, “I had to be home for my mom. She needs her medication.”

Collin’s jaw flexed. “Your mom. Always your mom!”

The words landed like a slap. Jenna pulled back slightly, frowning. “The hell Collin...she’s sick. You know that.”

He leaned back, smirking as if to smooth over the sharpness of his tone. “Relax, babe. I’m just saying. You worry over her too much. That woman is draining you."

"Not as mush as you are!" Jenna retorted.

"Whoa, easy babe," he said quickly, going defensive. "I didn't mean to come off that way. I'm just worried - worried that the weight of everything might break you."

Jenna looked down at her hands curled around the cooling mug. “Sometimes I already feel like I have.”

For a moment, his expression softened. He reached across the table, threading his fingers through hers. “That’s why you need me. All this pressure—you shouldn’t have to carry it alone. Once my deal comes through, everything will change. I promise.”

Jenna wanted to believe him. God, she wanted to. But Rachel’s voice echoed in her mind: People can’t live on promises.

“Collin,” she said gently, “I can’t keep lending you money. I barely cover the bills as it is. I’m drowning.”

His hand tightened on hers, not painfully, but firm enough to make her heart race. “Babe, don’t you trust me?”

The question was a trap—it always was. She forced a smile, though her stomach twisted. “Of course I do.”

“Good.” He kissed her knuckles, the gesture both tender and possessive. “Then stop worrying and just give me the money... and time.”

Jenna nodded, but inside she felt the unease grow. Because time was the one thing she was running out of.

She'd just five days for the rent.

Outside, the wind rattled the café windows. Jenna glanced at the door where Rachel had left and whispered a silent wish: that she could be as brave as her best friend thought she was.

She couldn't even leave Collin despite knowing he's a dependent good-for-nothing. She felt leaving him, might make her feel alone in the world, and that's the last thing she wanted.

And Collin, exploited this vulnerability.

Yet, Jenna stayed, seated beside him, caught between fear, hope, and the dangerous pull of a love that didn’t feel safe anymore.