21 Days In The Hockey Captain's Bed

Chapter Two: The assignment

Yennifer woke to the smell of burnt toast.

She blinked at the unfamiliar ceiling before last night's memories crashed over her.

Daniel.

Lily.

Her parents.

She squeezed her eyes shut, almost like she could keep the thoughts from reaching her if she held herself still enough.

"Don't even think about hiding under that blanket." Chloe's voice drifted in from her studio kitchen, "And I made breakfast." Now that sounded suspiciously proud.

Yennifer sat up slowly in bed, wishing she didn’t have to work. The smell in the air was already promising a charred breakfast.

When Yennifer shuffled into the kitchen in one of Chloe’s hoodies, there was a plate already on the table. Eggs and toast, both on the edge of tragedy.

Chloe slid it toward her and commanded, “Eat.”

“I’m not hungry,” Yennifer said weakly, but Chloe was already expecting that answer “I wasn’t asking.”

Yennifer picked up the fork anyway. She knew Chloe was a disaster in the kitchen, but arguing with her was worse. The eggs tasted like regret, but she swallowed them in silence.

Yennifer stared at the plate until the edges blurred. Daniel’s smile came first, warm, easy, and false, the kind of smile that had once made her trust him with everything. Then Lily’s voice, saying she loved him, and the memory of it hit so hard it nearly broke her all over again. Her chest tightened. For one awful second she was back there, hearing them, and understanding too late that some betrayals came wearing the faces of the people you loved most.

Her eyes stung. She blinked hard to stop the tears, but they came anyway, hot and humiliating. She dropped her gaze to the table as if shame could be hidden.

Chloe was on her feet before the first tear had finished falling. She crossed the kitchen in two quick strides, tugged Yennifer into her arms, and held her like a mother. One hand rubbed slow circles on her back while the other settled at the back of her head, steady and warm.

“Did I do something wrong?” Yennifer whispered, her voice cracking on the last word, “Wasn’t I enough?”

“Hey,” Chloe murmured. “No. Don’t do that thing where you start blaming yourself for other people being trash.”

Yennifer let out a wet, breathless sniff, then Chloe leaned back just enough to look at her and, wiping Yennifer's tears away, she said. “ It's their loss, not yours, but I promise you, if I ever see those two betraying goats, I’m throwing hands. I’m not even kidding. I’ll come for them with my whole chest and absolutely zero dignity.”

That sent Yennifer into a boisterous laugh through her tears. It burst out of her all at once, thin at first, then real enough to make her snort. That was so like Chloe, fierce and unmistakably loyal.

But just by picturing Chloe, all five foot four of her, storming into a fight with the confidence of someone twice her size, only caused Yennifer to double over, wheezing out another laugh.

Chloe frowned at her for half a second, then crossed her arms. “I said I’d kill them, not entertain them.”

That only made Yennifer laugh more, leaving her gasping for breath

Chloe’s mouth twitched before she could stop it. “There she is,” Chloe said, grinning now, relieved and smug all at once. “I was getting worried I’d have to fight your trauma and your appetite at the same time.”

This time Yennifer smiled; she didn't know how badly she needed the laugh. It had loosened something in her chest, but she still wasn’t eating that charred meal.

“Good,” Chloe said, squeezing her once more before letting her go. She gathered the dishes and loaded them into the dishwasher.

Then she paused and watched Yennifer for a beat, then said, softer, “You know you can call in sick, right?” “I can’t”, Yennifer replied “Yen...”

“No, please, I already lost Daniel, and that's fine...” standing and pushing her chair back. But I’m not losing work too.”

Chloe exhaled through her nose, like she’d expected the answer and hated being right.

—

An hour later, Yennifer stepped into Languard Media House with her shoulders squared and her stomach hollow. She was a senior intern, working hard to earn a permanent position as a journalist there, which meant she didn't have the luxury of staying home to sulk over her broken heart cause she had only three months left before her internship ended.

She and Chloe had barely crossed the lobby when the day found a way to turn mean. A man coming the other way accidentally bumped her elbow, and the coffee in his hand spilled, splashing across the front of her blouse. Not enough to ruin it, just enough to sting and leave brown blotches on her cream-coloured blouse. She looked down at the dark spreading mark, heat rushing to her face.

“Sorry,” the man muttered, already moving on.

Of course he did.

Chloe’s hand landed at the small of her back, steady and immediate. “Ignore it,” she said under her breath, but her eyes had already gone sharp, protective in that way that made Yennifer want to lean into her and disappear at the same time.

Then, from somewhere nearby, a familiar voice cut through the lobby. “That’s unfortunate.”

Yennifer looked up and found herself caught in the gaze of someone she did not want to see. The woman’s expression was polite in the way that made it cruel.

Chloe’s jaw tightened. “Don’t listen to her, keep walking,” she murmured.

Yennifer did. But the stain clung to her like an omen all the way to the elevator, and she could already feel the rest of the day waiting for her.

By noon, a departmental conference meeting had been scheduled for the usual weekly check-ins and updates. She and Chloe were among the last to arrive, only because Chloe had tried to remove the coffee stain, but to no avail. Now Yennifer had to go into the meeting with brown blotches and wet patches on her blouse. “What a glorious day,” she muttered as she sat down.

The once noisy conference room gradually fell silent as Mr. Harrison, the Head of the Journalism Department, walked in with a tablet tucked beneath his arm.

"Good day, everyone."

"Good day, sir," the room answered in unison.

He set the tablet down, glanced over the room, and allowed himself a small smile,

"I'll keep this brief. First of all, congratulations to the Sports Department.”

The room broke open in applause. A few chairs scraped back. One of the reporters punched the air. "We finally hit two billion views on yesterday's coverage!"

Another laughed, "Now that's what happens when George Ashford wins another game."

And someone at the back whistled, “The man's a beast”

Yennifer frowned but was forced to smile because the excitement in the room was quite contagious, but she had absolutely no idea what everyone was talking about.

So she leaned closer to Chloe, lowering her voice, or so she thought, then asked: "...Who's George Ashford?"

The words had barely left her mouth before the room fell eerily quiet.

Yennifer blinked, and every head was turned toward her. Even Chloe stared like she’d grown a second head.

A burst of laughter echoed through the room, "No way.” Then someone asked, sharp and disbelieving. You’re joking, right?”

Yennifer blinked at him. “No, I don’t watch hockey,” she said, and that seemed to make it worse. “Girl, Ashford isn't just hockey; he's New York’s royalty”, someone explained

Then Chloe leaned over with a grin. ‘I can’t believe you asked that out loud.’ ‘I genuinely don’t know him.’ ‘Now I know,’ Chloe said.”

But before anyone could say anything, Mr. Harrison rapped his knuckles once against the table. The sound cut cleanly through the room.

“George Ashford,” he said, “has turned down every single interview request we’ve sent for the past six months.”

A few people groaned, recalling their experiences, but Mr. Harrison ignored them; instead, he looked around and said: “Who wants to try again?” But no one moved. Then Annabelle stood, all sweetness and polish. “I suggest we send the intern.”

Every head turned to Yennifer. Everyone already knew this was a trap, but no one said a thing.

Mr. Harrison didn’t look away from her. If anything, he seemed to be weighing something. “You don’t follow hockey,” he asked.

“No, sir.” “And you haven't written your first piece.”

“I have assisted in research and writing but am yet to write my own piece, sir.” “Good,” said Mr Harrison. The word landed harder than the rest.

“Then you won’t flatter him. You won’t turn him into a headline. You’ll speak to George Ashford like he’s a person.”

The room stirred. “She’s just an intern,” someone said. “He’ll never take her seriously,” said another.

Mr. Harrison didn’t blink but said, “Thirty days, I give you thirty days to get me an interview with George Ashford.”

Yennifer was already on her feet before the doubt could kick in. “I won’t let you down, Sir.”

Then she turned to Chloe, but Chloe frowned ”are you sure about this? Ashford's ruthless, almost feels like he has a personal vendetta with journalists”

But Yennifer shrugged “I have to try. And I need this to secure a permanent position in Languard, as it's one of the leading media firms in New York, and I could also use something to take my mind off this pain”

“Okay”, Chloe supported

When the meeting elapsed, chairs scraped as people left the room; someone laughed under their breath. A few people passed her on the way out with smiles that almost looked a little too much like pity and condolences.

Yennifer caught Chloe at the door. “So where do I find him?” Chloe stopped, one hand on the handle, and looked back at her with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “You’ll have to start with the games.”

“Not just attend,” Chloe said. “You’ll need to get close enough for him to notice you.”

Yennifer’s stomach tightened. “And if he doesn’t?”

Chloe’s smile thinned. “Then you’ll have to make sure he does.” She pushed the door open, then paused as if remembering something she’d nearly left unsaid.

“Oh, and Yennifer?” Yennifer looked up.

Chloe’s voice dropped to a whisper. “He never speaks to journalists. And for you to hit it big, you need a crazy interview from him, meaning you need to know what kind of man he is on the ice and off the ice.” Then she was gone.

Yennifer stood frozen, her breath caught, as her fingers tightened around her phone. “Oh God, this is bigger than I thought”