Cella shoved and her father was there to grab the polar’s arm. “Come on, kid. I’ll introduce you to everybody.”

“Introduce me?” And she heard his voice crack a little.

“Way cute.” Cella chuckled and headed out, ready to have some fun on the ice.

CHAPTER SIX

“Would you like a menu, sir?”

Crush shook his head, and wondered how he could get out of this. “No.”

“Go on,” Nice Guy pushed.

“We have a lovely peppered, ringed seal sandwich with spicy hot mustard. It’s a favorite among our polar clientele.”

And wow, but did that sound good. But no. No. He couldn’t. This was getting completely out of hand!

“He’ll take it,” Nice Guy volunteered for him. “And some of those sweet potato fries, too.” The waiter nodded and walked off. “You might as well enjoy this, kid.”

“I have no idea how I got here. This can’t end well.”

Nice Guy studied him for a few moments, then said, “You’re a cop, aren’t you?”

Stunned, Crush stared at his hero. It was usually the last thing anyone ever accused Crush of being. Meth dealer, mass murderer, biker, but no one ever said, “You’re a cop, aren’t you?” It was why Crush was so good at his job. He could infiltrate any lowlife, underworld association he wanted simply because he looked as if for ten bucks and a pack of smokes, he’d cut someone’s throat.

Of course, that used to insult him, but not anymore.

“Uh ... well ...”

Nice Guy patted his arm. “It’s all right, kid. You don’t need to admit anything. I just know cops when I see ’em.”

“No one else ever guesses it right.”

The tiger shrugged. “I was always ‘Nice Guy’ Malone, but I wasn’t always ‘Nice Guy’ Malone.”

Crush frowned while Nice Guy’s teammates laughed around them.

“What,” Crush asked, “does that mean?”

Cella, now with her skates on and stick and helmet in hand, made her way to the long, covered hallway that would lead out onto the ice. But when she was still a corner-turn away, a small wolfdog sped out in front of her, blocking her path.

Not wanting to fight, Cella immediately held her hands up. “I made it up to him! I made it up to him!”

“Huh?” Blayne shook her head. “Oh, whatever. I’m not talking about that.”

“Oh.” Cella lowered her hands. “Then what’s up?”

“I need your help.”

“After you just busted my balls?”

“Those are two separate issues!” Blayne bellowed.

Cella’s eyes narrowed. “Blayne ... did you have sugar today?”

She lowered her gaze.“Maybe.”

“And on that note ...”

Cella tried to go around her, but Blayne skated in front of her. She had on her quad skates for derby practice and the tiniest shorts known to man or God. Thankfully, the little wolfdog looked good in those shorts.

“I need your help,” she said.

“With what?”

“My wedding. Gwen’s wedding. It’s all gone to shit!”

“You knew Novikov was difficult.”

“He’s not the problem. Gwen’s mother. Lock’s mother. They’re the problem.”

“How are they a problem for you?”

Her lips briefly pressed into a thin line. “Apparently, I’m like a daughter to them,” she said flatly.

“Oh. Well, have fun with that.”

“Cella, I need your help.”

“With what?”

“Your mom.”

Of course. Every bride wanted Barb Malone as their wedding planner, but that just wasn’t possible. “My mom is booked for the next three years. I think she even turned down one of the Kennedys.” Cella glanced off. “Or maybe it was just a close relative of the Kennedys. Either way—”

“So you’re saying no?”

“I’m saying no.”

“Fine!” Blayne and her sugar high bellowed.

Cella watched her skate off, waiting until she was about ten feet away before she softly said, “Unless ...”

Wild dog ears honed in on that and Blayne stopped. “Unless?”

Cella faced her, shrugged. “Maybe if you could help me with Novikov and the way he treats the team ...”

Blayne clenched her fists. “We made a promise to each other that I would never involve myself in his hockey career and he would never call derby a ‘chick sport.’ ”

“Oh. All right. Well”—Cella turned around, headed toward the team—“good luck to ya!”

With a speed that Cella always marveled at, Blayne shot in front of her. Damn shame the girl couldn’t ice-skate very well, because, wow.

“Fine. I’ll do it. If you get your mother to take on my wedding and Gwen’s.”

“Why not make your lives easier and just have one joint wedding? Novikov won’t care and MacRyrie will learn to put up with him for one day if it makes Gwen happy.”

“My God ... that’s brilliant!”

“I know.” Cella pointed at herself. “Because that’s what I do. I solve problems. Now move your skinny ass.”

As Cella walked away, Blayne yelled from behind her, “I love you, Cella!”

“Shut up.”

Cella got in line with the other players, waiting for their team and names to be announced.