by Lily Harlem
“Dana, how are you?” she asked, jumping up. “Are you feeling better today?” She threw her arms around my shoulders and hugged me tight.
“Yes.” I squeezed her, feeling that although our friendship was new, the horror of yesterday had brought us close quickly. “Much better, thanks.”
We sat and I glanced at the two beefy security guards who’d placed themselves on either side of us. They had stern faces and holstered guns peeked from beneath their thick jackets.
“It was such a fright, so awful, wasn’t it?” Carly said. “We went straight home and Brick poured us both a whiskey.”
I nodded and tugged on chenille gloves to keep the chill air from nipping my fingertips. “Thank goodness no one got hurt.”
“And thank goodness she’s been locked away, crazy bitch.”
I nodded and looked around the rink. We were early, it was still the pre-skate game and only the first eager fans had taken their seats.
“It’s Rick’s four-hundredth game as captain,” Carly said, pointing at a big banner over the tunnel that had a picture of his smiling face on it and “Ramrod—400 Caps” written next to it.
I raised my brows. “Really?”
“Yeah, it’s a Viper record.”
“He didn’t mention it at breakfast.”
Carly giggled. “Well, he either had something else on his mind or he’s a very modest guy.”
I glanced across at a group of teenagers all sporting red-and-white scarves printed with “Ramrod 400 Caps”. “Mmm, I guess he’s just modest.” Nothing to do with the fact that we ate breakfast in bed and he was most concerned about some sticky maple syrup that landed on my chest and had to be licked off.
“So how are things going for Saturday?” Carly asked, jolting me from my sexy memory.
“Great, we’re all set.”
She tipped her head and studied me. “You’ve given me a dilemma now though, Dana.”
“What? Have you thought of something else? Have we left something out that you asked for?”
She smiled. “No, not at all, it’s a nice dilemma. As I already told you I’ve known Rick a while now, and this is the first time I’ve actually seen him with someone.” She paused. “And I want him to be able to come to the party with you as his date if he wants to. And, of course I want you there too.” She pulled a woolen hat onto her head and frowned. “Is there anyone else who can take over the practicalities on the night so you and Rick can enjoy the party together?”
“As it happens, yes. Lately my assistant Maddie has been taking on extra responsibilities, and I was thinking of letting her attend events on behalf of Best Laid Plans. Saturday would be a perfect opportunity for her to run the show. I would still be there if she ran into difficulties—”
“But unless she did, you would be our guest.” Carly rubbed her hands and her face lit up. “Great, that’s set then.”
I grinned. “Are you sure?”
“Well, only if you’re sure you want to come to the party?”
“Of course, I wouldn’t miss it for the world. It’s going to be great.”
Carly linked her arm with mine and gave it a squeeze. “It’s all set then and you’re going to love the other wives and girlfriends. Brooke is just great, though about to give birth so no champagne for her. Mae, of course you already know and Raven’s girlfriend, Tyler, is a scream.” She leaned close and lowered her voice. “And often Fergal, the Vipers’ owner, brings Giselle. He’s married, but not to her.”
I widened my eyes at this bit of gossip.
“They are apparently just friends, but she’s the tall, supermodel type with sharp eyes and an even sharper wit and he never takes his eyes off her when she’s around. She’s nice, Brooke knows her really well. The guys just all go along with it and nobody would dare ask the boss outright what the situation is, though of course it’s obvious to anyone with two brain cells that they’re sleeping together.”
“And his wife has no idea?”
Carly shrugged. “If she does she turns a blind eye. I guess being married to a multimillionaire can make some women very forgiving.”
I nodded and thought of sharing Rick with another woman. A shiver snaked up my spine. Just the thought of someone else touching his body, kissing his mouth made me feel nauseous. I’d never tagged myself for the possessive type, but I guess I’d never fallen so headlong in love with someone the way I had with Rick.
As Carly and I chatted, the noise in the stadium gradually grew to a loud hum. Glancing around, I noticed that all the seats were taken. The smell of hot dogs and nachos was getting stronger and the Vipers’ alligator mascot was circling the ice, his head wobbling as he bobbed to the music and threw sweets into the crowd.
Suddenly the lights went out and the whole arena plunged into darkness except for two huge Vipers logos illuminating each half of the ice.
“Here they are,” Carly said, clapping wildly as the Vipers shot like bullets from the tunnel onto the ice.
Rick was out first with “Lewis” printed across his back in thick black letters. My heart did a flip. Even though it was less than an hour since I’d seen him I missed him.
He did a lap of honor, punching the air with his stick and looking completely impenetrable. The crowd went wild, chanting his name and holding up their scarves as if they were flags. I glanced at the giant screen above the scoreboard and saw his dark eyes sparkling through the cage of his helmet.
The hairs on the back of my neck prickled with pride. That big man in the even bigger outfit down there was my boyfriend. He had to share himself between fans and his team but at the end of the day he was mine. We would go home together.
I pulled in a shaky, excited breath of cold air. He was clearly adored by Vipers followers, they were frenzied when he passed near them. The group of guys behind me were shouting about his four hundredth captaincy. The words “legend”, “awesome” and “out of this world” seemed to dominate their conversation.
“You think they’ll win?” I yelled across to Carly.
“Yes, but not easily. The New York Islanders are their greatest nemesis, it’s always a tough match.” She grinned. “But if they do win the celebrations are wilder than ever.” She smiled wider and a naughty glint caught in her eye.
I laughed and clapped along with the crowd. Carly pointed out Brick, Wolf, Phoenix, Raven and the newcomer Todd Carty, a formidable team of huge bodies, padded and protected, gliding gracefully over the ice. The lights went up and the opposition pelted out of the tunnel, dressed in blue and orange. The crowd hissed so loudly I thought my eardrums would never recover and I almost felt sorry for their outnumbered fans whose claps and cheers went unheard.
Rick slid into the center circle, whacked down his stick and the first period began. “Kick ass, Ramrod,” shouted one of the men behind me.
Skates whizzed over the ice. The puck shot backward and forward. I kept my gaze on Rick and he was quick to take the puck from the opposition. Next thing he was speeding down the wing nearest our seats. I saw his fierce, determined gaze home in on the net.
Out of nowhere, a huge player with his beard protruding from his helmet cage appeared and body-checked Rick into the boards. Curses peppered the air behind me. The Plexiglas shook and rattled so violently I felt sure it would break and Rick would end up in the crowd. But Rick didn’t even fall down, he simply elbowed his way back out to center ice, the puck still under his stick.
“Go, Rick,” I shouted, waving my hands.
“Go, Ramrod,” yelled one of the teenagers in front of me. “Don’t let him get the better of you. Show ’em what you’re made of.”
Another Islander player went for Rick. Again the collision was car-wreck brutal but still not enough to topple him over. Swiftly he passed the puck to Raven who sent it on to Phoenix. The crowd went crazy. Phoenix shot around two defenders as if they were amateur skaters and in a move so quick, so precise it was like a bolt of lightning, he sent the puck to the back of the net.
&nbs
p; I jumped up cheering, and so did several thousand others. The giant screen zoomed in on Phoenix’s delighted face as all the team bumped gloves or patted him on the helmet. The Islanders spat on the ice, shook their heads and moped back to position.
By the end of the first period, the Vipers were one goal up and I knew I’d never watched such a fast, exciting game of hockey as this one. In the second period, Brick paid a visit to the penalty box and Raven missed a penalty shot. Carly and I ate nachos and swigged a beer, kindly fetched by yet another security man.
The Islanders scored within ten seconds of the third period. I watched Rick doling out instructions to his defenders, pointing at the ice with his stick then shooting back up to center ice and skidding to a halt amidst a spray of ice chips. I crossed my fingers and toes that the Vipers would win. I was keen to experience the celebratory sex that would accompany success.
Carly nudged me and pointed at Rick. He was tussling with an Islander, his stick fighting for the puck. The other guy started to get away and with a gasp I watched Rick hook his stick into the Islander’s skates. The Islander instantly went flying and landed sprawled on the ice, all four limbs akimbo and his stick skittering away from him.
The referee charged up to Rick pointing and shouting. Rick dragged off his helmet and shrugged. He placed a gloved hand on his chest and feigned such an expression of innocence that I wondered if perhaps he would get away with it.
“Fair hit, ref,” shouted the gang behind me. “Not Ramrod’s fault if number nine can’t skate.”
The referee was having none of it. Rick was sent to the penalty box for two minutes and the Islanders were on a power play.
They scored.
“Lucky shot!” was shouted from the stands around me. “Fluke!”
Rick was back on the ice, his face more steely and determined than I’d ever seen it.
“Five minutes left,” Carly said, leaning over to me.
Tension electrified the air and I practically sizzled with anticipation. The Vipers needed to score; one to make it even and send it to overtime, two to win.
Phoenix survived a ruthless hit and made it down the wing, puck neatly trapped within the curve of his stick. Before I even had time to catch what was happening, he drove the puck home and scored, bringing the Vipers level with the Islanders.
“You show ’em,” shouted one of the men behind me. The teenagers in front of me jumped up and down and high-fived one another. Phoenix was slapped so hard on the back by Rick and Raven at the same time that he almost lost his balance.
Play resumed and almost immediately Brick got hold of the puck and passed it to Raven who sliced it to Rick. He caught it and barreled down the ice, head down, stick to the ground. My mind was spinning, my heart racing. I was too excited to shout or move. He was gaining on the goal. I saw him glance up, as if visualizing his next move.
He took a shot.
He scored.
The crowd went ballistic. It was as if an explosion of excitement had detonated in the arena. Carly jumped up and hugged me, the players hugged one another.
The final buzzer rang.
“They won,” I shouted over the din.
“Yeah, come on, let’s go down to the tunnel,” Carly shouted, her face aglow with jubilation.
Our two security men immediately stood, their eyes watchful and their shoulders squared.
Carly took no notice of them. “The atmosphere will be awesome down there,” she said, grabbing her purse. “Beating the Islanders in the last minute will have the guys on such a high.”
I nodded. The wild applause and the shouts and screams of the crowd were deafening. Following Carly down the steps, I could almost feel the security man’s breath on my neck. I reckoned he’d had pretty strict instructions from Rick to stick close to me.
When we reached the tunnel the press was swarming around the Vipers players, especially Rick. He’d taken off his helmet, his cheeks were flushed and his hair damp and flattened on his head. He looked like a man who’d played edgy and fast and worked hard to win. As he pulled in panting breaths, I couldn’t help but notice how he towered over everyone, his skates adding unnecessary inches to his height and his shoulder pads increasing an already impressive width. Looking into his elated face I once again felt that lovely warm glow around my heart. He was my man, I was his woman. I was still on a total high that we’d found each other and wondered if I would ever get enough of how he made me feel.
“So now you beat the Islanders in the final minute how will you work your team next time you encounter them?” a young reporter asked Rick, shoving the microphone as high as he could and still not reaching Rick’s chin.
“The same as always. Hard,” Rick said, beaming and wiping his forehead on the back of his arm.
“Did you ever think this might not be the Vipers’ year?” asked another reporter, female with a short blonde bob.
Rick shook his head. “Nah, we always have a positive attitude, we always believe we will get the scores we want, that’s what keeps us fighting for it.”
“The Islanders are going to be sorry they conceded that last point,” said an older reporter who I vaguely recognized from TV. “What do you say to them?”
“Their loss is our gain,” Rick said with another, even wider grin.
“Four hundred games as captain. People are wondering how you’ve done it over the years,” the first reporter asked, elbowing his way back through the jostle.
“Clean living,” Rick said with a chuckle.
There was a rumble of accompanying laughter, then, “Tell us what happened yesterday?” the young female reporter asked, aiming her microphone up at Rick. “Rumor has it there was an incident with a fan here at the rink.”
Rick’s smile dropped, his dense brows tugged low and his jaw tightened. He glanced to his right and his gaze settled on me. He sucked in a breath and turned his attention back to the reporter. “Yeah, there was an incident.”
The din of conversation quieted, everyone turned to Rick.
“And is it true there was a gun involved?” The reporter widened her eyes dramatically. “And a shot was fired?”
He pulled off his gloves, which were quickly taken by a hovering equipment manager, and crossed his arms over his huge chest. “Yes,” he said in a steely voice. “But no one was hurt.”
“And is it true the fan was a female obsessed with you? That she’d been sending you letters and gifts for months and you’d had several restraining orders taken out against her?”
Rick’s frown deepened further. “Yes, and she is now thankfully getting the medical help she needs. I wish her well. She is clearly mentally unstable and was delusional about her relationship with me.” He shoved his hand through his hair, causing it to stick up messily. “And while we are on the subject of my personal life, I would just like to say for the record that it will no longer be necessary to include me on any ‘eligible bachelors’ lists.” His gaze sought out mine again.
“Does this mean you’re off the market?” the female reporter asked quickly.
“Yep, I’ve found the woman for me…” He held out his hand and pointed over everyone’s heads. “And she’s right over there.”
Suddenly all eyes were on me. I froze like a deer caught in headlights. Rick was staring straight at me and so was everybody else.
“Dana,” Rick said. “Come over here, baby.”
My legs were lead, my mind whirring. Rick had just made our relationship very public. All I could see were a mass of microphones and a sea of camera lenses angled my way.
“Go on,” Carly said, pushing at the small of my back. “Go to him.”
In a daze I moved forward, people stepping out of my way and cameras following my movements. When I reached Rick, he grinned down, his eyes intense and his skin shiny. There was a trickle of sweat at the angle of his jaw.
“Hi,” he said. “Enjoy the game?”
I nodded.
Rick glanced at one of the cameramen. “You still
rolling, Phil?”
The cameraman gave the thumbs-up sign.
Rick grinned then reached forward and grabbed me. Suddenly I was flattened against his big, hard body as his lips took hard possession of mine. I scrabbled for purchase on his stiff shoulder pads as he tipped me backward, lower and lower, my spine arching and my long hair surely skimming the floor.
On and on he kissed me, his tongue probing, his scent, his taste filling my senses and my mind. My heart swelled with love and I kissed him back with as much enthusiasm as he was kissing me. Out in the stands, thunderous applause rolled through the arena, followed by excited screaming fans. The sound of clapping in the tunnel rang through my ears and still Rick kept on kissing me, holding me tight and secure in his arms as if he didn’t ever want to let me go.
Eventually our kiss paused, but only long enough for him to murmur into my ear, “I love you, Dana Wilcox, event organizer.” Then he was kissing me again, this time as if he might truly never stop.
Epilogue
Standing on the chariot, I smiled for our cheesy arrival shot at the engagement party. I was wearing a full-length strapless white dress that hugged my figure and was as toga style as I was prepared to go. It had gold strapping around my waist and under my breasts and I’d piled my hair up and weaved a thin gold braid through it. I’d added thick black eyeliner and ruby-red lipstick and was pleased with the overall look.
Rick, like a lot of the players, had gone for a gladiator outfit, and I had to feel sorry for the barmen who were also wearing shorts and gold armor but looked like a bunch of wimps in comparison to the beefy hockey players.
As we stepped off the chariot, Carly and Brick were waiting to greet us. Carly wore a beautiful pale-pink dress, similar style to mine, and had placed a gold leaf tiara on her head. Brick looked like a pumped-up Julius Caesar in a white tunic top, leather sandals and a crown similar to Carly’s. I couldn’t help but wonder just what she’d done to persuade him to wear it. I didn’t think it would be wise to ask.
