“How good did we do?” Bri asked Cella, taking her hand in his own.

“We did amazing.”

“You okay about Hofstra?”

“I’m fine with Hofstra. I’m fine with her staying with the family. God knows they need someone to manage their craziness.”

Bri kissed the back of her hand. “Thanks, Cella.”

“For what?”

“Giving me an amazing daughter and being you about it. You always worked with me about visitation, always made me feel part of the family.”

“Because my kid is the most important thing and you are a great dad. I would never keep you away from her. Now go to your mate. Be happy.” She hugged him.

“You be happy, too.”

“I’m always happy,” she told him honestly. “It annoys people.”

Bri released her with a laugh, giving her one last kiss on her cheek before he headed back to Rivka.

Cella took a moment to adjust her dress, pausing when she saw her Aunt Deirdre heading from the bathroom back to the ballroom. Deirdre glanced at Cella, sneering a little at her without saying a word. Cella let her get a few feet before she said loudly, “I saw you sobbing at my bedside, old woman!”

“Shut up, heifer!”

Chuckling—okay, maybe it was a cackle—Cella adjusted her gown one more time and headed back to the rest of the wedding party.

Everyone was starting to line up and Cella walked toward her place at the head of the line.

“Everything all right outside?” she asked Jai, taking her bouquet from her mother.

“If you’re really asking me if Crush showed up for the reception as he promised, the answer is yes.”

“But?”

“But he’s trapped between a bickering Van Holtz and Novikov.”

Cella waved that off. “That doesn’t bother him.”

“He does seem to be enjoying himself. Oh. And that pit bull that hangs around you is in a designer dress.”

“Yeah. I helped Smith pick it out, but Van Holtz paid because she refused. But the dress is great, though,” Cella explained, “because she’s got an arsenal under that skirt. Two nines, four full clips, and her bowie knife.” She grinned. “Cool, huh?”

Disgusted, Jai shook her head and focused on the bride.

“What’s the look for? For Smith that’s like the equivalent of her being naked.”

Crush looked up from the piece of red velvet wedding cake he’d been about to devour. “I don’t understand. Why won’t you just say yes? Why are you fighting this?”

“Isn’t that my right?” Cella shot back.

“No! It isn’t. Just say yes already.”

“What I told him was that I had to take some time and talk to Meghan and Daddy ...” Cella rolled her eyes and finally spit out, “... andyou.”

Crush dropped his head a bit. “You don’t have to sound so angry.”

“The fact that I care at all what you think irritates me.”

“Okay, take out the fact that I’m a Carnivore fan on an astronomical scale and let’s just look at this from a ‘your best interest’ point of view.”

“Yeah?”

“Chance to coach a championship team with one of the best players since your dad—”

“Which, I guess, is still not me?”

“Do you want me to lie?”

“No, no. Go ahead and rhapsodize over your girl crush on Novikov.”

“Thank you. As a matter of fact, I will.” She let out a little laugh and Crush went on, “How about this? You’ve seen how Van Holtz works with Reynolds. You’ve seen how he works with you. Do you think he’ll be one of those micromanaging bosses or big picture bosses?”

“Big picture.”

“Which would you rather work for?”

“Big picture.”

Crush figured that. He could tell Cella would kill a micromanaging boss in his or her sleep.

“Do you think he’ll pay you well?”

“Extraordinarily well.”

“Have a problem about you working with KZS?”

“He hasn’t so far.”

“Respect you as an equal?”

“He already does.”

“Give you free rein on how you manage the team and its resources?”

She sighed. “Yeah. He will.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

Finally, Cella admitted, “I didn’t want to look too eager to take this coaching job. My agent would have killed me if I’d looked too eager.”

“That’s valid. What about the rest of the team?”

“They’re not supposed to know yet about Reynolds, but someone must have leaked something because since Van Holtz talked to me I’ve gotten twelve e-mails begging me to take the job, eighteen texts, and more damn flowers. And then there’s Novikov, who for an entire day called me every hour on the hour, ordering me to take the job or he wouldn’t be responsible for what he did to the hillbilly, which I assume meant Reed.” Cella looked off and said, “He’s a little obsessive, that guy.”

“Ya think?”

“Aren’t you friends now?”

“Apparently. Not sure how I feel about that, though. I mean on one hand, here’s the player I really admire and like as a human being, and when you’re talking to him one-on-one, he’s really interesting. But while I was having lunch with him one day last week, I watched him take thirty minutes just to properly set his new watch. There seems to be a whole process involved. It was weird.”