Save the Date (Chicago on Ice Series Book 3)

by Aven Ellis

  Always take responsibility when mistakes are made . . .

  Oh my God. Oh my God.

  Luca is sprawled out on the ice, not moving.

  “Ballerini is down,” Pete Simon, the play-by-play announcer, says. “They’ll stop play now as trainer Clay Zimmerman makes his way out on the ice.”

  My heart stops. I can’t breathe. What happened to him? Why isn’t he getting up?

  “Please get up, Luca,” I plead. “Please, please, you have to be okay.”

  My phone begins buzzing, but I can’t move. I won’t move until I see that Luca is going to be all right.

  “Let’s take another look at the play,” Pete says. “Hennessey takes a slap shot on goal and oh, oh my.”

  I watch in horror as the slowed down replay shows the puck hitting Luca in the neck, followed by him falling to the ice.

  I gasp again. This is a serious injury.

  What if he can’t breathe?

  Or worse, what if he has broken his neck?

  “Please, please, be okay,” I whisper to myself. “Please, Luca. I love you. I love you so much. Please be okay.”

  “That’s a dangerous play,” Frank Neely, the analyst, says.

  Fear like I’ve never known consumes me. After a tense silence, Luca pushes himself up to all fours. I fight back tears when I see him moving. Luca removes his glove, then his mask, and his hand flies to his neck.

  I’m going to be sick. I’m going to throw up. He’s hurt, and I’m terrified.

  Trainers and doctors for both teams surround him, and they study his neck and jaw. Clearly in pain, Luca grimaces as they examine him. With assistance, he manages to get up, and the crowd cheers as a Buffaloes’ trainer helps him off the ice.

  “We’ll get an update on Luca’s condition as soon as we can,” Pete assures us as play gets ready to resume. “Justin Wilson is going to take over in the net while the doctors assess Ballerini’s condition.”

  I have to know what’s going on. I run to my purse and dump my tote upside down onto the kitchen table so I can find my phone as fast possible. I already have texts from Taylor and Livy, but Aubrey is the person I need. With shaking hands, I fire off a message to her:

  I know you know the sideline reporter. Can you get an update on Luca from her? I need to know he’s okay.

  Aubrey immediately responds:

  I’ll text Solene. I know she’s going down to the dressing room. The fact that he skated off is good, Collins. I wouldn’t say that if it wasn’t.

  Knowing Aubrey is right doesn’t console me. I can’t help but think of how badly Pavel was hurt last week.

  Now, this dangerous game has taken down the man I love.

  How did this happen? Luca is skilled at stopping slap shots. His preparation is stellar, and—

  Preparation.

  My knees buckle as I realize what has happened.

  This is my fault.

  Oh, God. Our argument distracted him from his mental ability to stay in the game.

  I stumble over to the couch, gasping for breath. I upset him. I know I did. And in return, he wasn’t able to prepare.

  Gabe’s last words replay in my head.

  I feel sorry for the next man you’ll destroy.

  If I would have remained silent, this wouldn’t have happened. Luca told me he needed time to prepare for his job, and I mistakenly assumed he was exaggerating. I’m accountable for his injury.

  I did this to him.

  Tears stream down my face. Guilt is about to swallow me alive. My mom was right. Sometimes unpleasant things should remain locked away so nobody gets hurt. If I had followed her rule, Luca would be playing instead of being injured.

  I grab my phone and text Luca:

  Luca, I’m praying you are OK. Please, please text me when you can. I’m sorry about everything.

  While I wait to hear from Luca or Aubrey, I make a promise to myself. I will not destroy Luca. I will not. I won’t bring up anything unpleasant ever again to him. I don’t care if it’s not practical. I’ve lived most of my life doing it, so I know I can.

  I begin pacing, desperate for news. Why doesn’t anyone know anything? Why? What is taking so long?

  It feels like forever before I receive an update from Aubrey.

  Solene is about to go on air and report he’s okay. The puck hit him between the neck and collarbone. Nothing is broken, but they are keeping him out of the game according to concussion protocol. That’s all the info I have.

  I close my eyes. Thank God.

  Luca is going to be okay.

  I feel like I can breathe for the first time since he collapsed. My phone buzzes in my hand, and I turn it over.

  It’s Luca. I fight through tears as I read his words:

  Baby, I’m OK. Please don’t worry. Neck hurts, but I should be a go for the game in D.C. on Friday. I’m sorry. So sorry about earlier. I was a jerk. Can I call you when we get to the hotel? If it’s too late, I can call you in the morning. I want to hear your voice. Whenever I can.

  Relief courses through me.

  Luca is fine.

  And so are we.

  I text him back:

  Call me tonight. Please. I want to hear your voice, too. No matter what time it is.

  I hit “send” and he replies immediately:

  I’ll call you tonight. I’m so sorry I upset you.

  I bite down hard on my lip to keep from bawling.

  I’m sorry, too. Please rest now. We’ll talk when you are in D.C.

  I put down my phone and exhale loudly. Luca is fine. No thanks to me distracting him, but he’s going to be all right this time.

  I vow that I will never do anything like this to Luca ever again.

  ~ ~ ~

  The Buffaloes came out of Tampa with a 2-1 victory with Justin giving an excellent relief performance for the win. The team should be in Washington, D.C. by now, and I keep willing my cell to ring. I need to hear his voice. I won’t be able to sleep tonight until I do.

  I flip over on my back and stare up at the ceiling. As news of Luca’s injury got out, I was bombarded with people checking on me. All the women from Suzanne’s Soirées messaged me. Aunt Suzanne assured me Luca was in less peril than any time I’ve ridden Major, although that seems hard to believe.

  Of course, my mom had the opposite opinion. She pointed out how stressful hockey is and how I never had these kinds of worries with Gabe. She said if this is the road I insist on choosing, I must be positive.

  I swallow hard. Yes. Be positive. Obviously, that’s advice I need to heed if I don’t want to get Luca seriously injured.

  Buzz!

  My heart pounds as I see Luca’s Connectivity Video Chat request.

  I turn on the light and sit back against the headboard as Luca appears on my screen.

  As soon as I see him, I lose it.

  “Are you really okay?” I manage to get out.

  Luca’s face softens in response.

  “I’m fine, Cinderella. Sore, but fine. I promise you I am,” Luca says, his voice firm with conviction. “There’s no need to worry about me. None.”

  I nod and bite my lip to try and regain composure.

  Luca is okay.

  This time.

  “I’m sorry,” I blurt out. “Luca, I’m so sorry.”

  His expression shifts to one of concern.

  “Collins, what are you sorry for? Because you want more time with me?”

  “No, because I did this to you!”

  “What?” Luca asks, sounding confused.

  “I distracted you from your normal routine. You-You,” I stutter as I fight back a lump in my throat. “You would have stopped that shot if I hadn’t upset you earlier.�
��

  I dissolve into tears again.

  “Baby, no, no, is that what you think?” Luca asks, his eyes wide with surprise.

  “I know I did,” I say.

  “No, sweetheart, no,” Luca says, shaking his head. “Collins, listen to me. It was an odd bounce of the puck, that’s all. You didn’t cause this. You didn’t.”

  “Normally, you would have caught it,” I protest.

  A smile tugs at his mouth. “I miss some shots now and then, in case you haven’t noticed.”

  He’s trying to protect me, but I know the truth.

  I’ll never let my emotions put him in jeopardy ever again.

  “I’m sorry about our fight,” I say.

  “God, I am, too,” Luca says, wincing. “You had every right to be mad at me.”

  “No, this is your job.”

  “But I’m also your boyfriend, and I failed you,” Luca says slowly as if the words hurt him to say.

  “No,” I say, shaking my head.

  “I did. I accept that. I told you I’m not perfect. I will mess up. Today, I did. I’m still trying to figure out how to juggle all of this. Just . . . don’t give up on me.”

  What? Is that what he thinks?

  “Luca, that will never happen,” I assure him.

  He exhales. “I hope not. I don’t ever want to lose you. Ever.”

  “You won’t.”

  “You have no idea how many guys would kill to be me,” Luca says. “Guys who can give you more than I can. I know I’m lucky to have you. You’re the last thing I think of at night and the first thing in the morning. I’m scared one day I’ll mess up and lose you.”

  I’m stunned by the pure vulnerability in his eyes. Luca has no idea the hold he has on my heart.

  “That’s not going to happen,” I say. “I promise.”

  “This is why it’s so important to be honest with me,” he implores. “Always tell me how you’re feeling so I can fix things.”

  I swallow hard. I refuse to make him promises I know I won’t keep. I’ll never, ever, make him vulnerable on the ice ever again.

  Instead, I clear my throat and ask, “Are you sure you’ll be ready to play on Friday?”

  “Yes,” Luca says. “I want back in. Friday can’t come soon enough.”

  “But Justin did a great job tonight. You can take another game off if you need it,” I say, wishing he would.

  “No,” Luca says, shaking his head.

  “Why not?” I ask, confused.

  “Justin is too good.”

  Wait. Is Luca threatened by Justin? Is that why he’s so obsessive in his preparation, putting in endless hours, hours beyond anyone else on the team? Because he feels his job could be taken away if he doesn’t devote his whole life to the game?

  “Luca, you’re the starting goalie,” I say.

  “So was Ben until I came along.”

  Luca is confident except when it comes to two areas, which happen to be the biggest ones in his life.

  One is keeping his starting job.

  The other is me.

  With a sinking feeling, I realize the two might be at war with each other.

  And I don’t know if this is a battle I can win.

  Chapter 30

  If you are enthusiastic about your work, it shows . . .

  The room is nothing short of magical.

  I light the final tea light and step back to admire my work. Kristine Sharp’s stately home has been transformed for a gorgeous, equestrian-themed cocktail hour.

  I really have outdone myself. Tea lights flicker in stirrups that hang from the ceiling. Silver trophy vases in varying sizes are set up around the room with arrangements made up of rich burgundy, green, and cream flowers. Servers fill trays with pepper-crusted tenderloin crostini, lamb lollipops with mint-pistachio pesto, tomato soup shooters and mini grilled cheese sandwiches, and mushroom and leek tarts.

  The corner bar is stocked with wine, beer, and a ginger-infused sparkling signature cocktail. Tables are strategically placed in the grand living space with baskets of rustic breads, cheeses, meats, and seasonal fruits. The décor is made up of vintage equestrian finds, like pictures of riders on horseback and ribbons displayed on stacks of classic horse-themed novels like National Velvet and Black Beauty. Clusters of riding hats and boots add flair to a table of mini sandwiches.

  The showstopper is a magnificent ice sculpture of a horse jumping over a fence, surrounded by a raw bar with oysters on the half shell, stone crab legs, and shrimp. It’s breathtaking and will definitely be something people remember.

  I move to the dessert table, my favorite. There are mini pumpkin pies; pecan tortes; assorted chocolate truffles; spice cupcakes adorned with horseshoes; and, the crowning jewel, a tiered, trendy, naked cake surrounded by a gorgeous display of fresh apples and greenery. The cake is apple-carrot with a light topping of cream cheese frosting. It’s elegant and rustic, and something I’d be happy to have at my own wedding someday.

  As soon as I think about weddings, Luca flashes through my head. I imagine him waiting for me in a beautiful outdoor setting with a gorgeous smile on his face.

  When Luca returned from the road trip where he was injured, I was never so happy to see anyone in my life. He had three days off with only practice and some community events on his schedule, so we were able to spend time together.

  Everything was perfect.

  He’s had home games this week, so our time has been cut short again. I wish he’d let me sit quietly next to him and work on my iPad, but he’s adamant that he needs to watch games alone.

  After what happened in Tampa, I won’t question him.

  Luca goes back on the road late next week, and he’s promised me he’ll be better about scheduling online dates with me. To prove he is serious, Luca agreed to attend the party this evening after he finishes a radio interview.

  I’m so excited he’ll be here. Kristine insisted he come. I declined at first because I need to be working, but she convinced me by maintaining that I’m part of her horse family and she would like to meet him. I was worried he’d say no because tomorrow’s game against Detroit is a huge division rivalry, but he didn’t hesitate in accepting the invitation.

  Which tells me everything I need to know.

  “Collins, you have outdone yourself,” Kristine says, entering the room. “This is everything you promised me. It’s absolutely perfect, down to the smallest detail. How did you do it?”

  “It’s my job,” I say, smiling at her. “But I have to say, I’ve loved every minute I’ve spent working for you on this event. Horses are my biggest passion, so this didn’t feel like work at all.”

  “Trust me, I know the work you put into this. You had deadlines and vendors to deal with while keeping your creativity and paying attention to the smallest detail. All while making me happy,” she adds, laughing. “Which isn’t easy to do. I’m picky when it comes to representing my stable.”

  “As you should be,” I say. “It’s your brand. My job is to hear what you are saying, take action, and bring the event to life while reflecting your vision. I haven’t had this much fun since I worked in the stables at a summer camp.”

  A thoughtful expression passes over Kristine’s face.

  “You have stable experience?” she asks.

  “Kristine, you have a phone call in the office, some kind of screw up with the farrier bill,” CJ Sharp, Kristine’s husband, says, walking up to us. “And I believe the first guests are arriving.”

  “Ugh,” Kristine says, “I’ve got so much going on I can’t keep track of it all. Please excuse me.”

  Kristine walks off, and CJ turns to me. “You’ve made quite an impression on her.”

  “She’s terrific. Working with her has
been a joy.”

  The doorbell rings, and CJ excuses himself to greet guests. I make sure two servers are armed with bottled water, champagne, and the signature cocktails near the entrance and ready to offer guests a drink when they arrive to reduce the wait at the bar. Then I head to the kitchen, where I will make sure the appetizers are going out according to schedule.

  I repeat my be invisible mantra and get in the zone. Food begins flowing, people cluster around stations with drinks in hand, and laughter and conversation fill Kristine and CJ’s home.

  A half-hour into the party, CJ comes looking for me in the kitchen. As soon as I’m spotted, he heads straight toward me. I worry there is a problem. Perhaps we’re out of something or there’s a special request headed my way.

  “Collins, I have to say, your boyfriend is an absolute pleasure to talk with.”

  “Luca’s here?” I ask, confused to hear Luca didn’t come find me as soon as he arrived.

  “Yes. He introduced himself to me and Kristine as soon as he arrived. Were your ears burning the past half hour? Because all that young man did was talk about you.”

  Oh!

  My cheeks grow warm. “All good, I hope.”

  “More than good,” CJ says. “Kristine told me to send you to talk to him. The catering staff has everything under control.”

  I almost laugh. It seems every party Luca attends I’m told to quit working and go spend time with him.

  This time, I don’t resist the offer.

  “Thank you,” I say, smiling at him. “Of course, I’m here if anything is needed.”

  “Of course,” he says, winking at me.

  I leave the kitchen and head into the main living room, where guests are happily mingling and congratulating Kristine on the announcement of a second stable. I eagerly search the room for Luca.

  My pulse leaps when I find him. He’s put on a navy suit with a striped pocket square and his white dress shirt is opened a few buttons at his throat. He’s sipping a bottle of water and talking with Noble Leighton, a rider who keeps several horses with Kristine.