On Thin Ice by Bernadette Marie Page B

I’m not that famous.”
    Malory shook her head. “Whatever.” She opened the door and stepped out onto the snowy drive. “Oh, wait!” She spun around right into him as he came from around the back of the truck. “A hockey game.”
    “We have lots of hockey games.”
    “No. That’s not what I’m talking about. Don’t you have friends? Hockey player friends? I mean, how about a game of professionals? Wouldn’t they do that?”
    “Wil, you’re talking in circles.”
    “No, really.” She slapped her hands on his chest. “Think about it. Bring in professional players and retired players and have a game. We’ll sell tickets before Christmas, and it will draw a crowd. It might just save us for the year.”
    He nodded and she knew he was considering it. He lifted her hands to his lips and gave them a kiss.
    “Let me give it some thought.”
     

CHAPTER SEVEN
    The idea Wil had given him was brilliant. It kept him up all night. Five o’clock in the morning had come quickly, and the first skaters were in the parking lot waiting for him to open.
    A celebrity hockey game. The thought continued to bounce around in his head. It would draw people from all over. The town itself would double in population for the next four weeks, but with a celebrity hockey game those numbers could go even higher. The press would come. People would spend money in the shops. They would eat at Maggie’s restaurant. They would buy pastries from Wil’s bakery. They would expect him to play.
    He raked his fingers through his hair and rested his hands on his head. The last thing he needed was to have his brain rattled in his skull again. The last time he’d flown into the boards, he’d seen his life flash before his eyes. They’d said if he hit that hard again his life would be over.
    He huffed out a breath. This was his home and everyone he loved lived and worked in the town. He had a chance to save it. Wouldn’t you risk your life to save what you loved, he thought.
    He opened the door to the empty rink and began flipping the switches to turn on the lights and heaters. The sounds of the first skaters on the ice filtered through the building as he headed toward the kitchen to start a pot of coffee.
    Harvey would see the benefit in an event of such grand proportion.
    He smiled. Wil was a genius.
    While skaters filed in and out of the rink throughout the morning, Christopher sat behind the desk and planned a game to draw hundreds, maybe even thousands. There wasn’t much time. Usually an event like this would take months and months of tedious planning. He had two weeks to pull it together.
    He listed retired players and coaches he thought would be happy to lend a hand. Then he thought of a few who had some wiggle room in their contracts that he knew of, who could put in an appearance. There were the few favors he could cash in, and there was one ex-girlfriend who worked in PR, who would come in handy—if Wil wasn’t the jealous type. She’d never had been that kind of girl. With a little more thought, he crossed her name off the list. With his track record he’d better not risk alienating Wil.
    Harvey wandered in around ten with a skip in his step and a grin on his face. It screamed his mother’s name and Chris was going to leave it at that. He was happy for both of them.
    Harvey tossed his coat on the hook by the door and dropped into a chair in front of the desk. “Whatcha working on?”
    “A Christmas Pageant hockey tournament.” He tapped his pencil on the desk.
    “Go on.”
    Harvey moved in closer, and Christopher turned the notepad around to show him his notes.
    “We only have six figure skaters. That program isn’t going to bring in more than three hundred dollars. I was thinking that if we have teams come up and play in a tournament for the weekend, though”—he scrunched up his face—“most leagues have holiday tournaments. But we could offer it up. Then . . .” He turned the page on the notepad. “We have a