8. Jessica
Chapter eight
Jessica
A s I drive through the streets of downtown Denver, my phone lights up with another missed call from my dad. His name flashing across the screen makes my shoulders tense.
He’s left three voicemails already, all probably filled with the same old demands: updates on my career, questions about the firm’s big clients, reminders about the Romano family name I’m supposed to uphold through a successful career in law. It’s always the same with him, like he’s keeping tabs on every move I make, never satisfied with anything I do.
I hit decline and toss the phone onto the passenger seat, sighing as I glance at the surrounding city. Christmas lights adorn the streetlamps, and someone has decked out the shop windows with wreaths and glittering ornaments. Holiday cheer is everywhere, but all I feel is this hollow pressure, like I’m constantly being pulled in two directions—clinging to my freedom and trying to live up to Dad’s expectations. And now there’s Eric.
A part of me wonders about his mom, the woman in that old photo, the one he found in his moving boxes the other day. There was something about the way his face changed when he looked at it, a flicker of pain and confusion. I could see it bothered him, but we didn’t talk about it, just like we didn’t talk about the… other thing. The intimacy we shared on the couch. I close my eyes for a moment at a red light, feeling the heat rise in my chest just thinking about it.
It’s for the best that we keep ignoring it, right? Pretending like it didn’t happen. We barely know each other, and we’re just stuck in this situation temporarily. Eric has enough going on in his life without the added complication of… us. Especially with whatever he’s dealing with about that photograph. Whatever the backstory is with his mom, it’s tied to something deep in his past—something painful.
The cold seeps through the windows, fighting against my luxury car’s heater as I grip the steering wheel tighter, trying to shove the thoughts aside. Eric and I need to stay professional. Period.
We can’t afford to mix professional and personal.
Feeling somewhat more at peace with the reality of my thoughts, I round the corner toward downtown. My phone lights up on the passenger seat with a dozen notifications. The screen keeps flashing with messages, calls, and news alerts. What the hell?
I glance at the phone while stopped at a stop sign, my heart skipping a beat as I catch a glimpse of the headlines. “NHL Star Eric ‘Gator’ Warren Seen Cozying Up to Team Attorney Jessica Romano: Are They More Than Just Friends?”
My stomach drops. Cozying up? I frantically scroll through the messages, reading the one from Jason, my boss, first .
Jason: Get to the arena ASAP. Emergency meeting. PR is involved.
An emergency meeting? I switch lanes, heading toward the arena instead of the office. I glance at the photos attached to the headlines—pictures of Eric and me in the suite before the game. Someone took our hug out of context, making it look like we're together.
I groan. This can’t be happening.
I manage to reach the arena within fifteen minutes, the first swirls of snow coming down from the mostly blue sky. As I park and head inside, the biting cold seeping through the cracks of my coat, my phone buzzes again. It’s Jason calling. I answer with a sigh.
“Jessica,” he says, his tone brisk and all business. “This media frenzy isn’t going to die down on its own. The team’s PR is looking for damage control, and Kip wants you in the executive suite right now.”
“Jason, this is ridiculous. Eric and I aren’t—”
“It doesn’t matter what you are or aren’t,” he cuts me off. “Right now, the media thinks you two are involved, and we’re going to find a way to squash it… or use it. Get up there. Now.”
The line goes dead, and I’m left standing in the cold hallway of the arena, feeling like the floor just dropped out from under me. They’re going to consider using it? For what purpose? I get the feeling that PR already has a plan, and Jason knows what it is.
This is my career on the line. I work with these people. I represent the team’s ownership. I think of my dad’s missed calls and the pressure he puts on me.
What have I gotten myself into?
I make my way up to the executive offices, my pulse pounding in my ears. When I walk into the room, Jason is already there, sitting across from Kip Brown, the team’s owner, and the PR manager, Allison, is pacing near the window, looking as frazzled as I feel.
“Jessica, glad you could make it,” Kip says, his voice smooth and calm, as if this is just another day at the office.
I take a seat, my palms sweating. “I came as soon as I heard. What’s going on, exactly? About the photo, I can explain…”
Allison steps forward, a stack of papers in her hands. “The photos of you and Eric from last night have gone viral. Social media is blowing up with speculation that you two are a couple, and the press is already running stories about it. We need to address this quickly before it spirals out of our control.”
I blink at her, trying to wrap my head around the situation. It was a quick, innocent hug. I don’t see what the big deal is. The look on her face tells me it is, in fact, a very big deal to everyone else here. “And how do you plan to do that?”
Allison glances at Kip, who gives her a nod to continue. “Eric was sent to us as a rehab project, of sorts. To rehab his image in the Avalanche, a team ranked much lower than Nashville.”
I already know this.
“He claims he was baited and framed for a violent outburst on the ice in Nashville. He was almost suspended. Now, he is ‘cozying up’ to an attorney who represents the team… this is a new blow to his image.” Her voice is steely.
“What is your ask here?” I know the game well enough to know she’s painting a dire picture, then will tell me something sacrificial I can do or agree to that will help the situation. I do this myself, back in court in NYC and even before that.
“We want you and Eric to play along.”
My stomach turns at the implication. “Play along? You mean… pretend we’re actually together?”
Jason, who’s been quiet until now, clears his throat. “It’s more than that, Jessica. We need you to keep an eye on Eric. There’s a lot riding on his performance with the Avalanche, and as you know, he’s only here on a temporary trade. The team needs to know if he’s committed to staying long term.”
I stare at him, my mind racing. “You want me to fake date him… and spy on him?”
“Think of it as keeping tabs,” Jason says, shrugging as if it’s no big deal. “We need to know if he’s serious about being part of this team or if he’s already got one foot out the door.”
I glance at Kip, who’s watching me with those sharp, calculating eyes. “This isn’t just about you and Eric. Think of it as an expansion of your job, Jessica. The team’s reputation is at stake, and so is your career. If the media is going to believe you two are involved, then it’ll work in the team’s favor as long as we stage some photo ops and make it seem like he’s an upstanding guy. Fans love a good romance, especially around the holidays.”
I can feel my throat tightening. This is insane. They actually do want me to fake a relationship with Eric and spy on him at the same time! I think back to the day in the suite where this whole mess started, how easy it was to be around him, but this demand of theirs is going to complicate everything between us.
Before I can respond, the door opens, and Eric walks in, his expression unreadable.
I look away, feeling guilty even though I haven’t once spied on him. Just knowing that I’m expected to makes me feel dirty.
He looks between me and the others, clearly sensing the tension in the room.
“What’s going on?” he asks, ever the leader standing tall in the face of the unknown.
Kip gestures to the chair next to me. “Have a seat, Eric. We’ve got a situation to discuss.”
Eric sits down, glancing at me for a moment before turning his attention to Kip. “What situation?”
Allison jumps in, clearly eager to get the plan rolling. “Photos of you and Jessica from before the game last night went viral. The media thinks you’re a couple, and we need to control the narrative before it gets out of hand.”
Eric frowns, his gaze flicking to me. “A couple?”
I whisper, “You didn’t get the news alerts half an hour ago?”
He shakes his head. “Phone was in the locker. I was already on the ice for practice.”
Allison pulls up the articles on her laptop and turns it to face Eric. He whistles and shakes his head.
Jason steps in, clasping his hands on the table. “We’re asking you to go along with it. Pretend you and Jessica are in a relationship, at least for the time being. It’ll help with the media attention, and it’ll be good for the team’s image.”
Eric leans back in his chair, looking incredulous, like he doesn’t know whether to laugh or punch someone. “You want us to fake a relationship? You know that is crazy, right?”
“Yes, we do,” Kip says firmly. “It’s crazy, and it’s the best option we have right now. We can’t afford any negative press—correction, you can’t afford any more negative press. And this situation gives us an opportunity to turn things around in a positive direction.”
Eric lets out a long breath, his jaw tight as he processes what they’re asking. His eyes meet mine, and for a moment, I can see the frustration and uncertainty he’s feeling. This isn’t what either of us signed up for. But then something shifts in his expression—something softer, more resigned.
“I can’t catch a break on the ice or off, can I?” He shakes his head again. “Look, if we do this…” he begins, looking at Kip, “what’s the endgame? How long are we supposed to keep this up?” He looks at me. “Are you even okay with this?”
Allison steps forward, ready with answers. “Let’s stay calm here. We’re hoping to ride the wave through the rest of the year. Not too long. It’s good publicity for now, especially with the charity work the team is doing around the holidays. You’ll attend events together, be seen in public as a couple. Once the buzz dies down, we’ll reevaluate.”
I feel like I’m drowning in silence in a room full of opinions. There’s no way this won’t get messy, but I can see that Eric’s already leaning toward agreeing. Maybe it’s because he feels like he doesn’t have a choice, or maybe it’s because he’s starting to care about how all of this affects his career. It could be PTSD from the fallout in Nashville. I can’t tell.
He looks over at me, his eyes searching mine. “Jessica?”
My mouth goes dry. All eyes in the room land on me. I have to swallow before I speak. “I… I’m not sure this is a good idea.” I know they threatened my career earlier, but I won't be bullied.
Kip interrupts before I can continue. “Okay, okay, let’s think this through. I know it’s not ideal, but sometimes in this business, you have to play the game. This is one of those times. You both need to do what’s best for the team. For your image.”
I glance at Jason, hoping for some kind of lifeline, but he just nods. “Look at it as part of your job, Jessica. Eric, too. You each have a lot to lose here.”
There it is again. Another threat to my career. I gulp.
The words sting, but I can see the writing on the wall: there’s no getting out of this. If I refuse, it’ll reflect poorly on me professionally. And if Eric refuses… well, I don’t even know what would happen then.
Eric’s eyes meet mine again, and there’s a heavy silence between us. Finally, he sighs, rubbing his temples like he’s trying to fend off a headache. “Fine. I’ll do it.”
I exhale, not even realizing I’d been holding my breath. “Okay,” I murmur. “I’ll go along with it.”
Allison claps her hands together, looking pleased. “Great! We’ll work out the details and get a timeline in place. You two will need to make a public appearance soon, something to solidify the story.”
Eric and I both nod, though neither of us looks thrilled. The meeting wraps up quickly after that, and before I know it, I’m standing outside the arena in the freezing cold, watching the snow swirl around me. Eric steps out a few moments later, shoving his hands into his pockets. I was hoping he would seek me out, away from the eyes and ears inside.
For a moment, we just stand there in silence, the energy between us thick enough to cut with a knife.
“So, Sunshine,” Eric finally says, his breath visible in the cold air. “Guess we’re a couple now.”
I let out a humorless laugh. “Yeah, I guess so.”
“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry I hugged you. I had no idea it would lead to all of this. I’m sure the last thing you want is your name out there—your photo out there—being tied to me. But we don’t really have a choice.”
“It’s no one’s fault but the media hawks, you know,” I say laughing because the whole thing is so absurd. “It’s just… complicated.”
“Weird,” he adds playfully.
I smile. “Awkward.”
“Interesting.”
I laugh. “Fun.”
He reaches out to stroke my cheek in a move that takes my breath away. I lean into his touch. For a moment, it looks like he’s going to kiss me, but he doesn’t. Part of me wishes he would have. The other part wonders why I don’t just initiate it myself.
“Good. It’ll end up being a good thing somehow.”
He’s looking at me so gently that I lean in and kiss him. Instantly, his hands are on my waist, pulling me in. I enjoy the taste of the kiss, the nearness of him, and the way my heart leaps out to meet his. There is a layer to him that surprises me, this earnest man so different from the player on the ice.
But there’s one part of this plan he knows nothing about—I’m supposed to spy on him. I feel terrible about that.
My body language shifts and he pulls back reluctantly, leaving me feeling even more wretched about the whole thing. I’m going to have to live with him, go on dates with him, and take photo ops with him, all while lying to his face.
Eric gives me a small, understanding nod, thinking I need space. “We’ll figure it out, sunshine. One day at a time.”
He turns to head inside while I walk to my car. I know one thing, no matter how fake this relationship is supposed to be, the feelings inside me are very, very real.