Fake Dating The Famous Hockey Captain

Rves

Three days later, I arrived at Pearlview Hotel, my nerves buzzing like static.

The manager, a stiff guy named Ian, met me at the lobby. “He is unavailable at the moment. I’ll conduct the interview instead.”

I blinked. “No. I came to speak with him. Not his manager.”

“Well, he’s busy.”

“I’m not leaving without speaking to him.” I argued.

Ian’s jaw clenched. “Miss…”

“Leave her be, Ian.”

I froze. I was staring at him. The same guy who’d kissed me breathless behind the stadium. The one who whispered my name like a secret and disappeared before sunrise. My one-night stand.

Bruce. Holy hell. Bruce was a famous hockey player? My college crush?

I felt like the air had been punched out of my lungs. My jaw dropped, but no words came out. I stood there gaping like an idiot while he leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed and his eye brow tilted up.

He looked amusing but what more do I have to entertain? The fact that he was surprised to see me but pretended not to?

"Are you coming in or should I cancel the meeting?" His voice sliced through the awkwardness in the air.

I blinked hard, forcing my brain to reboot. “Y-Yes. Of course.”

I rushed in, gripping my bag tightly, my heels clicking way too loud on the hotel’s marble floor. The suite was massive, of course it was but I didn’t even have time to gawk. He was already settling into a chair, motioning to the seat across from him.

"So," he said, "why so desperate to talk to me?"

I swallowed. My heart beating fast and my eyes finding a permanent place to land while I talked.

I was staring at Bruce! How could he be so still and focused?

My head ran through the way he touched me four years ago, still fresh in my memory. He was the first and the last person I've slept with.

“Are you going to say something? You keep staring at me.” He asked, waving his hands dismissively towards the door. Ian got the point and went out the door.

Bruce coughed, “Go on. I figured you might have anxiety around people you're not familiar with.”

What was that supposed to mean?

I tried to mutter courage and ease the fear in my chest. Was it fear? Or excitement that the person I badly craved for was standing right in front of me.

“I’m sorry, I just had a lot going on but I’ll tell you everything, I promise. But only if you help me.” I managed to say.

His brow lifted slightly. “Help you how?”

“I just… I need you to come with me to meet someone. Please. My job is on the line. My future is on the line. Not all of us have millions to fall back on.”

He chuckled under his breath. “Wow. You sure know how to measure your words.” He stood up and paced around my chair.

“I didn’t mean it as an insult,” I said quickly. “I’m just trying to be honest.”

God! I was hurling stupid words. I had to get it together but I couldn't. I didn't know why I was speaking so roughly. The fact that my one night stand was sitting opposite me after four years? Or the tension of the… Gosh! I was losing my mind.

He tilted his head, studying me. “Go on.”

I sighed and began, “My boss was going to fire me, but then this man offered me a deal. If I can bring you to meet him, he’s going to give me a chance to retrace my job better. A chance to build my life again. I'm working tirelessly for my boss but he's not giving me any reason to keep working.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Who’s this man’?”

“One sec.”

I didn’t hesitate. I pulled out my phone, dialed the number, and put the call on speaker.

It rang once before a deep voice answered. “Hi, Miss Eve. Have you convinced him?”

“Yes, sir. He’s here with me,” I said, trying to keep my voice even. “Shall we come to the mansion?”

“The Roccaforte Mansion,” the man replied. “Tomorrow. Noon.”

I ended the call.

But when I looked up, Bruce’s face had changed. His jaw was set tight, his eyes colder than I’d ever seen them. Bitterness practically rolled off him.

“Who was that man?” He asked.

I stood up and maintained the same height as him. “The man who gave the offer? He is the one who wants to see you.”

“Wow. Get out,” he said sharply. Those soft eyes he stared earlier were shifted into something more aggressive.

My heart sank. “Please. No, just listen…”

“I said, get out.”

I dropped to my knees before I even thought about about it. “Please. I’ll do anything. Just this once, just help me.”

He looked at me like I was absolutely pathetic. And maybe I was. But I didn’t care. If it meant getting that deal… if it meant finally building the company I dreamed of… I’d beg a thousand times.

This was about my dream of being a real reporter, respected, with my own platform someday. And blogging has only gotten me so far. This? This deal with Bruce, if it worked, could be the key that unlocked every closed door.

He stared down at me like he was trying to figure me out. His jaw clenched, like he thought about it a million times in his head within a second. “Meet me here tomorrow morning. 7 a.m. sharp.”

I looked up, hope bubbling in my chest. “You’ll come with me?”

“I’ll come,” he said calmly, “on one condition.”

My heart sank again. “What condition?”

“You’ll pretend to be my girlfriend this weekend at my father’s house.”

I blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”

He leaned back against the table, arms crossed, his eyes watching for a reaction. “It’s not rocket science. You want me to play along with your job? Then you’ll play along with mine.”

“That’s ridiculous,” I scoffed. “Why not choose someone else? A model, an actress, hell, anyone but me.”

“I chose you,” he said, his voice low and final. “Take it or leave it.”

I opened my mouth to protest again, but I stopped. If I said no, that was it. No Roccaforte mansion. No deal. No fresh start.

“Fine,” I muttered. “I’ll do it.”

A small, smug smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He moved closer and pulled a strand of my hair to the back, “It's nice to see you again.”

I stood still, glaring. I had no use for Bruce anymore. I just needed him to get to the Roccaforte Mansion.

He called for Ian, “Ian, take her home.”

I stood up, still processing the insane turn of events, and walked toward the door. But before I could step out, his voice stopped me.

“Hey…You don't have to pick a dress yourself tomorrow. Ian would bring it along.”

I glanced back. “Umm…alright.”

He nodded slowly, like he was filing it away.

The car ride was silent, and when I got out, Ian handed me an envelope through the window without saying a word. I thanked him quietly, then watched as he drove off into the night.

Inside, I dropped onto my bed and opened the envelope. A neat card slid out with an address on it.

It was the same address Mr. Roccaforte had given me. The mansion. I laughed under my breath. They couldn't live in the same house right?