Page 96 of His Jersey

Gazing into Ella’s eyes, I say, “None of them were her.”

She lets out a long breath as if she doesn’t know what to believe. I don’t blame her, especially not after seeing the video from the club the other night. My phone dings. Carlos sends a thumbs-up along with several video captures from another request I made of him.

“This is a problem that needs fixing, Jack,” my father says.

“I agree. Thankfully, I anticipated this. I obtained the shift records for Ella Hibbert, er Jasmin Bower, along with all the corresponding security videos.”

“So did we,” Aston says as if she masterminded this.

“Then you saw that there are also videos of her going out of her way for guests, above and beyond.” I cite a few examples from the clips Carlos sent, but even though Ella showed outstanding hospitality, all that time, she was afraid of Slater, living a lie, and sleeping under tables and on the beach. It crushes me to think that she suffered when there was so much right at her fingertips, including the vacant JewelSuite.

Bark Wahlburger yips as if he, too, knows hard times. I give our good boy a reassuring pet, not prepared to lose my dog or my woman.

Ella says, “Sir, all of this about my time at Jewel Island is true and I’m sorry for being dishonest.”

Her story is hers to tell, but if my father only knew, that thing called a heart in his chest would understand why she made the choices she did. Other than a few missing dinner rolls that guests left outside after their room service meal delivery, no harm was done.

He says, “This doesn’t change the fact that I’d prefer you marry Duchess Lucia von Fritsch of Denmark.”

My lips purse and then I exhale, hoping that the next time I breathe in, it’ll bring me patience. “We’ve discussed this at length. I said no. You once told me that’s a complete sentence.”

He grunts. “In the meantime, we can’t have you gallivanting and cavorting with common puck bunnies or puck princesses.”

Aston pouts. “Let him have some fun. He’s so young, why bother getting married?”

“We’re the same age. Are you trying to keep me from marriage altogether?” There’s no holding back the accusation in my tone.

She sniffs and gives her head a bobble as if neither confirming nor denying.

I send up a quick prayer and then ask for grace to unravel this. “Ella was using a pseudonym at the resort while working there. I will take responsibility for any consequences as a result.”

“Jack, you can’t do that for me.”

“I want to. I also want to tell the truth.”

Aston’s head snaps up from her phone. I grab it from her hands, making sure it’s not recording.

Bark Wahlburger steps between us as if ready to sic if she tries to take it back.

“My attraction to Ella was real from the beginning. I developed feelings for her, but they were clouded by the crossroads I found myself in career-wise. I acted impulsively. Asked her to wear my jersey to the game. I also scored. Those were some great plays.”

“But you lost,” Dad says.

“She was there, and I never wanted another day to pass without her. I proposed an engagement, not clear on where pretend, fantasy, and reality began or ended.”

I turn to her, hoping she believes me when I say the rest. “When I proposed to her on the beach, it was real and so has every moment since.”

“Then what about the party the other night?” she asks.

“I can’t prove that I was set up, but I have reason to believe it was Aston’s doing.”

My wicked stepmother glares at me.

“Ella, I hope you take me at my word because you are the only one that matters to me. Nothing happened at Club Luna after the game.”

The fact that she cares so much gives me hope. Carlos getting security footage from the resort was a cinch because I have clearance, but even if he can’t from the club, I will find a way to prove my loyalty to Ella.

“I have to get to the airstrip,” my father says, apparently tired of the quibbling.

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