Clearly, they could. But the last handful of times one of the star players got engaged before the season began… well, the season flopped. Big time.
It had happened often enough that there was a solid Denver lore preventing just this kind of pre-season engagement.
With one very specific caveat: the wedding had to happen before the start of the season.
"Please tell me they're going to elope," Piper said, already understanding that would make things too simple.
"Nope." Aspen shook her head. "And I need you to handle their wedding."
A loud silence stretched between them for a lengthy second.
Piper didn't even have to think about it. "Aspen, no. Anyone but me."
Piper had been clear when the last wedding couple went up in so much smoke the annulment was completed before the honeymoon was even supposed to be over.
The mere suggestion of planning another wedding sent Piper's heart racing, her palms instantly slick with sweat.
Add in the fact that this was Denver football royalty? Oh no.
The memories flooded back… the Garfield wedding six months ago, when the bride had discovered her fiancé's affair during the reception. The screeching profanities, the thrown cake, the smell of buttercream and harsh perfume… the lawsuit that followed. And that one had nothing on her own parents' spree of nuptials and breakups or her own wasteland of a love life.
All other events? Fine.
Give her every corporate gala Denver could throw: the birthday blowouts, quinceañeras, even the occasional christening.
But weddings? Hard pass.
"I need you to take this one," Aspen said gently. She twirled an ink pen between her fingers, her gaze dipping before meeting Piper's again. "I really have to pare back my schedule. I can't keep working eighty-hour weeks. The kids need me to be more present—and I want to be there for them. Last night Bronson asked if I love my job more than him. He's my kid. He shouldn't feel like that. And…" she offered a small, hopeful smile, "you know I've been wanting you to step into the senior planner role."
Piper's stomach knotted. Her palms went clammy. Her chest tightened until it felt like breathing through a straw.
"It's a bad idea," she managed, her throat thick.
This wasn't just professional discomfort. After the Garfield disaster, she'd sworn off weddings forever. She didn't want to be remembered as Denver's premier wedding ruiner. Especially not with the quarterback golden boy's nuptials.
"I get why you'd feel that way," Aspen said gently. "But you're good at this, Piper. Better than you give yourself credit for."
"It's not that I hate weddings," Piper muttered. "I just don't enjoy watching relationships implode in real time while everyone's wearing pastels."
Aspen gave a sympathetic laugh. "Fair. But this is a big deal, and I can't handle it myself on top of everything else. I could give it to someone else, but honestly? I trust you more than anyone else. You have the instincts for it."
Piper's fingers clenched on the edge of her chair. She forced them to loosen.
"The last thing this wedding needs is another curse." She licked her bottom lip. "Every couple I've planned for has split. Every single one. If the national average is fifty percent, mine is a hundred."
"A string of bad luck isn't a curse. It's just coincidence with good catering." Aspen slid a fat binder across the desk—swatches, color palettes, vendor notes already tucked inside. "You don't break people up. You bring their vision to life. That's what you're amazing at."
"When I'm involved, the happily ever after part never loads correctly," Piper whispered. "I'm the common denominator in a series of romantic disasters. This is just a bad idea."
"Maybe this is the one that proves you wrong." Aspen's voice softened further. "And I'll be here in the background however you need me. You're not alone in this."
Gah. Ugh. Piper's stomach did another unhappy twist.
"Fine." She exhaled. "Let's just get this over with."
"Good." Aspen tapped the binder. "You know Anna and Drake—the bride and groom. The woman with them is Tess, from the Stallions' publicity department. They're footing the bill, managing the PR, and fighting the whole superstition thing so there aren't riots downtown when it gets announced. Keeping her happy is important."
"Aspen..." Piper said, flipping through the binder like it was a prison menu offering her last meal.
