Pretending To Love The Hockey Captain

Lena’s Pov My phone bill was blinking red on the screen, and my heart felt like a heavy stone sitting right in my throat. I stared at the kitchen table in our small apartment, watching my sister Mia stir her plain oatmeal with a plastic spoon. She tried to smile at me, but I could see the dark shadows under her eyes. She was only seventeen, but she worried about money just as much as I did. "Did you find anything new online, Lena?" she asked softly, her voice barely louder than the hum of our broken refrigerator. "Lots of things," I lied, forcing my lips into a stretched-out smile that felt completely fake. "Just waiting to hear back. Don't you worry about a thing, okay? Eat your breakfast." An hour later, I was walking down the busy city sidewalk with my best pair of flat shoes, the ones with the worn-out soles. My legs felt shaky because I hadn't eaten anything since yesterday afternoon, saving the last bit of bread for Mia. The sky above was gray and heavy, threatening to pour rain at any second. I had a job interview at the Grand Royale Hotel for a front desk assistant position, and I desperately needed it. If I didn't get this job, I didn't know how we were going to pay the rent next week. When I walked into the grand lobby of the hotel, the shiny marble floors and bright crystal lights made me feel tiny and poor. A lady at the front desk pointed me toward the private lounge at the back. I took a deep breath, smoothed down my only decent blazer, and pushed open the heavy wooden doors. The room was quiet and smelled like expensive coffee and leather. But sitting on the velvet sofa was a face I had tried very hard to forget for the last four years. Carter Hayes. He looked bigger than I remembered, with broad shoulders filling out a dark, sharp suit, and his famous messy brown hair falling just a little over his forehead. He was talking on his phone, looking annoyed, but then his eyes cut across the room and landed straight on me. My breath caught in my chest. It was him. The man who had laughed at me in the college library. The man who made me feel like nothing at all. "I have to go," Carter said coldly into his phone, ending the call without saying goodbye. He stood up, towering over the table, and walked right toward me. "Lena?" he asked, his voice deep and smooth. "Is that really you?" "Carter," I said, trying to keep my voice from shaking. I wanted to turn around and run right out of those doors. "What are you doing here? I thought you were supposed to be doing hockey things." He looked me up and down, his eyes lingering on my cheap shoes and my tired face. "I own a part of this hotel. And more importantly, what are you doing here?" "I'm here for an interview," I snapped, letting a little bit of my anger slip out. I couldn't help it. Just looking at him brought back all the painful memories of the day I foolishly thought a rich, famous star athlete would ever care about an ordinary girl like me. "Not that it's any of your business." Carter raised an eyebrow, a tiny, annoying smirk playing on his lips. "An interview? For what? Cleaning rooms?" That hurt, right in the center of my chest. I straightened my back and glared at him. "No. For a job where I actually have to work hard for my money, unlike some people." Before Carter could answer, the door flew open and a woman with a panicked look on her face rushed inside. "Carter, you need to see this right now. Your ex-fiancée just posted a new story on i********:, and the reporters are outside the lobby already." Carter cursed under his breath, running a hand through his hair. He looked at the woman, then looked back at me, his eyes full of a strange, desperate frustration. "Wait here," he ordered, like he was talking to a dog. "I don't take orders from you," I said angrily, turning on my heel and walking out of the lounge as fast as my legs could carry me. I didn't care about his money, his fame, or his stupid problems. I just wanted my interview, a steady paycheck, and a quiet life for me and Mia. But life never seemed to give me what I wanted. By the time I got home, my feet were bleeding, my head was throbbing, and the landlord had slipped a final warning notice under our front door. Mia was sleeping on the couch, wrapped in a thin blanket. I sat on the floor beside her, burying my face in my hands, letting out all the tears I had been holding back all day. How was I going to fix this? How was I going to save us? Then, a loud knock rattled our front door. I wiped my eyes quickly so Mia wouldn't wake up and see me crying. I tiptoed to the door and looked through the tiny peephole. Standing in our dark hallway was a tall, neatly dressed man in a grey suit holding a heavy leather briefcase. He wasn't Carter, but I had seen him standing behind Carter at press conferences on TV. It was his personal assistant. My hands trembled as I unlocked the deadbolt and pulled the door open. "Can I help you?" I asked, my voice cracking. The man gave me a polite, serious nod. "Miss Hart? My name is Marcus. I work for Carter Hayes. Mr. Hayes sent me here with a proposition that I believe could change your life." I stared at him, completely frozen. "What are you talking about? I don't want anything to do with Carter Hayes." Marcus didn't smile. He just opened his briefcase and pulled out a thick envelope, placing it slowly on the small table by our door. "Mr. Hayes is in a very difficult position with his hockey team and the media," Marcus explained quietly, his eyes steady on mine. "He needs a girlfriend. A real, public-facing relationship to clear his name and get the sponsors off his back. And he wants you." My jaw dropped. I couldn't even breathe. "Me? He wants me to... what? Pretend to date him?" "Yes," Marcus said simply. "He is willing to pay off every single one of your debts, clear your rent for the entire year, and give you enough money to take care of your sister. All you have to do is smile for the cameras, hold his hand, and convince the entire world that you are deeply in love with him until the hockey season ends." I looked at the thick envelope, then back at Marcus's serious face. My mind was spinning wildly. It was crazy. It was dangerous. It was everything I swore I would never do. But as I looked back toward the living room where Mia was sleeping under a thin blanket, I knew I didn't have a choice at all.