Page 19 of Ice Ice Maybe
He glanced down at my hand. “Where’s the ring?”
Jing crossed her arms. “Does she honestly have to prove to you she’s getting married, Evan? Are you suddenly the marriage police? Keep up that attitude and you won’t get an invite to the wedding.”
He nodded, thinking about it. “Okay, my bad.”
After Evan wandered to the bar, I glanced at Jing, trying to keep a straight face. “How many beers have you had?”
“Not enough, because you still haven’t asked me to be your maid of honor,” she said.
I shook my head in amusement. “Don’t go spreading rumors that I’m getting married.” I gestured to the guests in the suite behind me. “These people like to talk.”
Jing smirked and pointed below. “Look—your fiancé finished.”
I laughed as Nolan skillfully maneuvered the Zamboni off the ice through the large doors at the end of the rink. The roar of the fans filled the arena as our boys skated back onto the freshly smoothed ice, ready to start the second period.
As the players warmed up, Mitch stopped and glanced up at our suite. His gaze was fixed on me for a moment.
“Did you see that?” Jing asked, nudging me with her elbow.
“Unfortunately,” I said with a sigh, wishing Mitch wouldn’t look at me that way.
A few minutes later, the puck dropped to start the second period, but within a minute, disaster struck. The Sharks stole the puck in our defensive zone, took a shot, and scored. Just like that, the game was tied 2-2.
I grimaced. “Not good.”
Turning back to look at Dad, I saw him frown and shake his head, and I understood his frustration. We needed this win badly to turn our momentum around if we wanted any chance of making the playoffs. I silently willed our team to quickly recover, but things got worse as the period went on. The Sea Lions had somehow lost their energy, looking completely lackadaisical. With only a minute left to play in the second period, Mitch gave up the puck at center ice, and the Sharks converted the turnover into another goal.
“No!” I yelled in frustration, my voice lost in the chorus of boos erupting from the crowd.
This couldn’t be happening.
The Sea Lions were now losing.
Jing leaned toward me. “This is not looking good. They’d better find another gear quickly, especially Mitch.”
The uneasy energy in the suite matched my growing apprehension as an ominous feeling settled into my gut. This game was crucial, not only for our playoff hopes, but for team morale. A win tonight would be the spark we needed to ignite a hot streak.
As the second period ended with the Sharks still leading 3-2, I approached Dad in the corner of the suite to see how he was doing, but his creased forehead said it all.
“This is a nightmare,” he said before I uttered a word. “I didn’t spend fifty million on Mitch, for us to lose.”
“Don’t worry,” I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt. “There’s still an entire period left. Plenty of time to score two goals.”
Dad ran a hand through his thinning gray hair. “I don’t understand what is going on. Mitch started out with a bang, but in the second period, it was like he was a completely different person, with countless mistakes. Something needs to change, and he needs to get his head in the game. I thought our plan withNolan was enough to fire him up, but it looks as though it wasn’t. Get down there and change his state.”
“Me? What am I supposed to do?” I asked.
“I don’t care—do something,” Dad said. “Mitch needs another nudge. Do it, before I get an ulcer.”
With his heart condition, ulcers were the least of his worries. The last thing I wanted was to go down there and antagonize Mitch, but it looked like I had no other choice.
Do it for Dad’s health.
My heart raced as I made my way down to the concourse level, slipping into the restricted service area toward the Zamboni room.
“Hakeem—good to see you,” I said as I passed through security.
“Good evening, Miss Dalton,” he said with a warm smile. “A pleasure to see you as well.”
