Powerplay by Cher Carson Page A

hand.
    “Everything okay?”
    “Yeah, Jen’s at Murphy’s for her bachelorette party. One of her girlfriends just texted me to let me know she needs a ride home. I’m gonna head over there now.”
    Steve grinned as he opened his car door. “Have fun playing hero.”
    Mark opened his door. Just the thought of seeing her again made him smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
    Steve tapped the roof of his car. “Good luck with Jen. Seriously, man, I hope it works out for you two.”
    “Thanks, buddy, so do I.”
    Mark drove the short distance to the bar, weighing his options. Should he come right out and tell Jen that her fiancé was a lying, cheating sleazebag, or should he set it up so she could see for herself the kind of man she planned to marry? He didn’t want to hurt her, but there was no way he was going to allow her to commit to spending the rest of her life with a man who wasn’t worthy of her.
    He pulled into the parking lot and spotted Jen’s black Roadster. It was easy to identify with vanity plates that read Dealmkr.
    He eased his truck into the empty space beside her car and cut the engine. Jumping out of his vehicle, he raised a hand in greeting to the security team working the door.
    There was a line forming outside of the busy sports bar and he felt the murmur of excitement move through the crowd as hockey fans began to recognize him.
    He smiled and waved at them as a uniformed guard waved him inside. Men were shouting, huddled around a large-screen TV watching sports highlights. Any other night he would have pulled up a stool to join them, but tonight he had only one thing on his mind: finding Jen.
    Someone shouted his name, and he turned to see Callie staggering toward him, a beer in her hand.
    “Hey, handsome, you made it just in time.” She reached up to put her arm around his shoulder.
    “Some other dude was dyin’ to give her a ride home.”
    “I’ll bet,” Mark muttered. “Where the hell is she?”
    Callie pointed to a table in the back of the seating area. “Way back there.” She leveled her hand over her eyes and giggled. “Can you see her?”
    “I’ll find her,” he said, edging people aside as he moved through the crowd.
    He could see Jen seated at a table of boisterous women; some he recognized, while others were strangers to him. Half a dozen men surrounded the group of women, one with his arm around Jen as he whispered in her ear.
    Mark walked up behind her, fighting the urge to twist the guy’s arm behind his back.
    Jen’s new friend raised his head and looked at Mark, his face splitting into a grin. “Hey, look who it is: Mark Atwell.”
    Mark nodded, glancing at the small group. “Hey, guys, what’s up?”
    Tracey smiled, wagging her finger at him. “Why am I not surprised to see you here tonight?”
    He laughed. “Am I that predictable?”
    Jen leaned her head on his shoulder. “Hi, hon, I missed you.”
    He knew she was under the influence, enabling her tell him how she felt without censoring her words. He hooked his arm around her chair. “I missed you too, baby. That’s why I’m here.”
    The guy who had been coming on to Jen took a step back. “You coulda told me your fiancé was Mark Atwell.”
    Jen frowned, looking confused. “But Mark’s…”
    He kissed her lips, cutting off her protest. He didn’t care what her friends thought of his public display of affection. As far as he was concerned, Jen’s days of wearing another man’s ring were numbered.
    “Listen, baby, why don’t we get outta here? I just came from having dinner with Davis and I’m beat.” He wasn’t tired, just anxious to get her alone.
    One of the men crowding the table asked, “Hey, is it true they may be trading him next season?”
    Mark didn’t want to talk about hockey tonight. He wanted to talk about weddings, or more specifically, when Jen planned to cancel hers.  “Not as far as I know, man.”
    The guy nodded, seeming satisfied. “Good to hear. That’d be a