Logan Romano took the NHL like a hurricane- dark and brooding.
With his natural talent, brute force and sheer determination, he goes completely unchallenged both on and off the ice.
He's notorious. Both for his success and his stormy personality...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I like to think of myself as a pretty positive person. You know, hand me a glass of water and I will describe it as half-full. I'm always trying to see the bright side of things and remain smiling, even when I'm in the face of true evil.
I do my best, really, I do.
But if one thing is bound to send a storm cloud brewing over my sunny exterior, it's her.
My older sister, Arizona. Or as Cece oh-so creatively nicknamed her; the wicked witch of the Southwest.
It's not that I hate my sister she's just a little...
"Excuse me. I asked for a paper straw. This is clearly plastic. Can I have a new drink?"
Difficult. Arizona is just a little difficult.
"I'm sorry ma'am, we have no paper straws left. Can I get you a mental one instead?" The waitress asks with her best customer service smile.
Arizona's face drops. "Is that a joke?"
And bitchy. She's bitchy too.
"I'm sorry but I-"
I place my hand on the young waitress' hand. "It's fine, thank you. I'm sure she can manage."
"Nova, are you-?"
"The food is amazing, thank you so much." This is the best hint I can give her to hightail it out of our section and find a more accommodating table.
She offers me a smile, a genuine one this time, and hurries away from our table and back into the kitchen.
I take three deep breaths and spin around in my seat to face the wrath of my fire-breathing older sister.
Lord have mercy.
"What was that all about?" Arizona snaps, her dark hair whipping as she shakes her head at me. "I was trying to finally get some decent customer service and you swooped in!"
"You were being rude." I shrug casually, scanning the drinks menu for something stronger than a Bellini to get me through this brunch.
She scoffs at me without shame. "It's not rude when i'm paying her, Nova. You're a waitress, ever heard of the customer is always right?"
"That's not the point, Ariz-"
"Well, our little Novie here isn't a waitress anymore, are you, darlin'? She's gone up in the world!" My Mom chirps from across the bistro table.
"Let me guess, you're calling yourself a barista now?"
Go to your happy place, Nova. There is no violence in the happy place.
"She's working for a millionaire! Would you believe it, Arizona? My little girl living in a mansion all free of charge! It's a dream come true." Is my Mom's attempt to be supportive and my personal cheerleader.
