Previously…
- Diane’s sister, Natalie, informed her that she would be coming back to King’s Bay.
- Brent advised Sarah not to let Graham know that they are suspicious of his role in Matt’s beating and abduction.
- After he accompanied her to her brother’s wedding, Matt and Danielle slept together.

MATT GRAY’S APARTMENT

When Matt Gray wakes up, he is immediately alerted to the presence of another body in his bed. It has been a long time since he shared his bed with anyone--too long; a length of time that would horrify a younger version of himself--and he is acutely aware of the extra space he doesn’t have, of the way his hand is draped over Danielle Taylor’s hip, and of all the questions that are going to come up as soon as she wakes.

Matt’s head is still foggy from sleep, but he can already feel the awkwardness of the whole thing encroaching upon him. He is trying to figure out how to diminish it, possibly by slipping out of the bed while she is still asleep, when Danielle stirs. Matt does not move, but within a matter of seconds, she rolls over and then lazily opens her eyes.

“Hey,” she says, slowly adjusting to the light coming through the blinds.

“Morning,” Matt says. They stare at each other a moment before she asks, “What time is it?” Matt contorts himself to see the bedside clock. “8:17.” “Thanks.” Danielle rolls onto her back and gazes up at the ceiling. “So this…” She moves her hand back and forth between them, leaving no doubt about what she is referring to.

Matt flops onto his back, too. “Yeah...”

“This was a good thing, right?”

The directness of it catches him off-guard. He thought, in the light of day, there would be a lot of dancing around what happened, or that their friendship would suddenly be riddled with weirdness.

“Yeah,” he says, turning toward her. “Yeah. I’d say so.”

“Good.” A smile spreads across Danielle’s face, and she props herself up on her elbow. “What do you say about grabbing some breakfast?”

Matt watches the way her blonde hair falls over her bare shoulders and onto the pillow.

“I say that sounds great.”

The final few skaters and parents from the morning’s last freestyle session dribble out of the arena. The ice surface glistens a pristine white as Tempest Banks drives the Zamboni to the exit door. As she pulls the machine off the ice, she is surprised to see a woman waving her arms wildly.

“Can I help you?” Tempest asks as she hops off the Zamboni.

“Doesn’t anyone else work here?” the woman demands.

“Yeah. And they’re doing their jobs.” Tempest grabs the large broom nearby. “So can I help you with something?”

The woman tosses her brown hair. She wears a brightly patterned silk scarf tied loosely around her neck. “I need to speak with the skating director.”

Tempest points to the staircase at the end of the arena. “His office is up there.”

The woman stares at her. “Can’t you get him for me?”

“He’s in his office. And I got work to do down here.” Tempest begins sweeping the residual snow off the rink’s surface.

“I hope your attitude isn’t a reflection on how things usually work around here.”

Tempest doesn’t look up from her sweeping. “What? Getting things done?”

The woman lets out a huff and heads, presumably, for the stairs. Her high heels click and clatter against the cement floor as she walks. Tempest focuses on cleaning off the ice and forces herself not to yell anything else after the obnoxious visitor.

DEXTER’S CAFÉ

As she and her husband sit at the outdoor table and gaze at the beautiful waterfront scene across the road, Sarah Fisher Colville finds it difficult to reconcile this as the same town that is plagued by rainfall for so much of the year.

She also finds it difficult to reconcile just how hugely pregnant she has gotten. No matter how many times she adjusts in her chair, she simply cannot get comfortable--and, from previous experience, she knows that this will be the case for the duration of her pregnancy.

“This food is fantastic,” Graham Colville says upon finishing another bite of his eggs Benedict. “It was a great idea to try a new place for breakfast. How is your food?”

“Great, I think,” Sarah says, “but I’m pretty sure that anything with this much cheese would taste amazing right now.”

“It won’t be too long before your appetite is your own again.”

“Yeah,” she says as she looks out at the water, its blue surface rippling beneath the faintest breeze. This whole pregnancy has seemed like something of a dream, but since Matt was found in that about-to-be-demolished building and she became suspicious of Graham, nothing about her life has felt real. She has tried to keep busy with work, with Tori, and with preparing for the baby, and she has been able to use her increasingly uncomfortable physical state as an excuse to spend nights in the guest room, but these husband-and-wife moments with Graham have been unavoidable. It’s true that all she has are suspicions, but her investigator’s instincts have been well-honed, and she cannot believe that she is having a baby with this man.

“Sarah?” Graham’s voice cuts into her thoughts. With a start, she realizes that the waiter is hovering over their table and has just refilled their waters. “Can I get you anything else?” the waiter asks. “Oh, no, I’m fine. Thank you,” she says, trying to shake off her distraction. The waiter departs, leaving them alone together once more. Luckily, Sarah spots a familiar face coming down the sidewalk toward them.

She waves to Brent but instantly regrets it, because once Graham seems him, he summons Brent toward their table.

“Hey,” Brent says, sticking his hands in the pockets of his jeans.

“How was the wedding?” Sarah asks. “I haven’t talked to Jason yet.”

“It was great. Really nice. Josh and Lauren both looked so happy.”

“Good! I can barely believe Josh is a married man,” she says.

“That makes, oh, about a thousand of us,” Brent says with a grin.

“I’m glad we ran into you,” Graham says, setting down his coffee cup. He glances around and lowers his voice. “Have there been any new developments with regards to the investigation? My clients are expressing serious reservations about developing a property that’s been associated with such sordid headlines.”

Brent takes a moment before responding. Sarah, remembering his warning about not expressing their suspicions about Graham just yet, watches him carefully.

“You’ll be the first to know when we have something definitive,” he says. “None of the business owners on the piers are too thrilled, I can tell you that much.”

“And here is the reason why,” Graham says. Sarah tracks his eyes to the entrance to the café’s porch, where Matt is standing--with Danielle by his side.

EDGE OF WINTER ARENA

Jason Fisher is focused on his computer monitor in the otherwise empty office when he hears a knock at the open door. Before he can turn his head and offer a greeting, he sees a brunette woman entering the office.

“You’re the skating director?” she asks.

“Yes,” he says, rising from his chair.

“Oh. I thought you were the owner.”

“I’m both.”

“Oh.” The woman looks around the space, taking in the décor that could best be described as ‘office functional.’

“What can I do for you?” Jason asks as he steps out from behind the desk. There is something vaguely familiar about this woman, but the designer jeans, heels, and flashy scarf don’t give him much of a hint as to how he might know her.

“My daughter has been taking lessons in another state, and we’ll be moving to King’s Bay permanently now, so I want to make sure that she doesn’t miss a beat.”

“Oh, great. We have a very qualified staff coaching here. What level is your daughter?”

“Who would you say is the best coach you have?” the woman says. “She just passed her Pre-Juvenile Freeskate test.”

Jason recognizes the naïve enthusiasm immediately. He is lucky that his own parents were never the typical ‘skating parents,’ and neither were Courtney’s. Too many of the skaters he grew up alongside had parents who believed their child must be the most special, most talented skater in the entire region and was surely destined for greatness; he sees the same syndrome in plenty of parents who inhabit Edge of Winter these days.

“Well, we have several coaches who would be great for a skater at that level,” he says diplomatically.

“I’m asking for your best coach. Is it Sandy James?” She pauses like a child anticipating a gold star after dropping the name. “I’ve done my research. She’s had national competitors--”

“I was one of them,” Jason says, a little more brusquely. “Sandy is a fantastic coach, but she doesn’t typically handle skaters below Novice level these days.”

“My daughter will be there soon enough. She’s only been taking lessons for seven months, and she’s already landing her axel.”

Jason is about to reiterate what he already said when it hits him.

“The cake,” he says.

“Excuse me?”

“You fell into the cake at my brother’s wedding! You’re Diane Bishop’s sister.”

“Yeah, that’s why I’m here,” Natalie Bishop says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Diane said Ryan works here and that you own the place. I figured you’d be able to help me out.” “If the only reason I know you is because you broke up my brother’s wedding by getting into a fight and revealing that he was already married to someone else, I don’t really know how much I’m dying to help you.” “That was not my fault! I’m not the one who got drunk and eloped with Diane in Vegas.”

Jason catches himself before he escalates this any further. He goes behind the desk and opens a drawer.

“Here,” he says, handing her a card. “Give Sandy a call. She’ll probably ask you to set up an evaluation so she can check out your daughter’s skating and see if she’s interested in taking her on.”

“Perfect. Thanks.” Natalie snatches the card and sticks it into her purse.

“But like I said, she doesn’t typically work with skaters below Novice level--”

“And I’m sure she’ll want to make an exception for my Bree. Thanks, Jason,” Natalie says as she blows out of the office.  He shakes his head as he listens to her click-clack across the landing and down the staircase.

Minutes later, he heads downstairs himself. The arena is silent in a way that might be eerie if he weren’t so familiar with these midday lulls. He finds Tempest behind the counter, organizing the rental skates.

“That woman find you?” she asks as she racks a pair of skates.

“Oh, she found me. Why, you talked to her?”

“Tried to. That heffa didn’t really want to listen, though.”

“Yeah,” he says as he picks up a pair of skates and wipes off the blades with a rag. “I don’t think she’s very good at that.”

DEXTER’S CAFÉ

Matt stiffens at the sight of Graham, Sarah, and Brent on the restaurant’s patio.

“We can go somewhere else,” he mutters, half to Danielle and half to no one in particular.

Other patrons begin to take notice of the awkward freeze among the five of them, and Brent breaks it by sliding across to give his sister a one-armed hug. “Hey,” he says quietly.

“Hey,” she says as she eyes Graham and Sarah. “We were just grabbing some breakfast.”

Sarah observes the scene with nervous interest. At least Matt looks healthier than he did in the hospital—which is no surprise, since some days have gone by, but it is a relief to see him sturdier and more like himself. Having Danielle stay with him seems to have been a good decision… and if they are going out for breakfast, she is probably still staying at his apartment. Sarah tries to swat away the rest of the implications that come to mind. 

“We’ll go somewhere else,” Matt says.

Graham stares him down. “Yes, that would be wise.”

“Keep it down,” Sarah says quietly.

Graham ignores her and instead addresses Brent: “I’m not going to have my business interests and my family endangered by someone so reckless. I trust that you’ll get to the bottom of this as soon as possible.” Then he levels his gaze upon Matt again. “And perhaps it’s best if Victoria not spend time with you for now, either.”

Matt’s response explodes out of him. “You aren’t gonna keep my daughter away from me!”

“Come on. Let’s get out of here,” Danielle says, tugging on Matt’s sleeve.

Matt ignores her and turns to Sarah. “Sarah, come on. You can’t believe all of this. I’m not some loose-cannon drug addict.”

By now, every other patron on the patio is watching them. Sarah tries to ignore them, however, and it isn’t that difficult, because she feels like a rope pulled between Graham and Matt. As she opens her mouth to respond, unsure what words she will even be able to conjure, she clocks a warning look from Brent.

“I think you should go,” she says coolly.

Matt’s face goes slack as he takes in her statement—her indictment, really. She hates doing this to him, hates making him think that she believes the worst about him, but Brent is right. For the time being—for her own safety and that of the baby inside her—she cannot let Graham know that she is suspicious of him.

Without another word, Matt walks off the patio and away from the restaurant. His head hangs toward the ground, and Danielle rushes after him.

“I’m sorry for that,” Graham says as he returns to his food. “But that man has caused enough trouble.”

Sarah grumbles some vague agreement, and Brent tells them, “I should get going. I’ll let you know as soon as there’s more to report.”

Graham thanks him, and Brent exits the restaurant. Sarah watches him go, and down the street, she sees Matt and Danielle walking side-by-side, her holding onto his arm. Sarah wonders how soon this can all be over--and what ‘over’ will even look like.

END OF EPISODE #669

Should Sarah tell Matt what she really thinks?
Will Graham manage to escape being exposed?
What kind of chaos will Natalie cause at the arena?
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