I’m standing in front of the fountain at the Lincoln Park Conservatory holding a handful of white daisies.
And for the first time since I can remember, I’m nervous.
My phone buzzes in my pocket. I dig it out quickly, hoping it’s Erika.
Linda
Hey there, champ! Finalize things with our contest winner yet?
Shit. I’ve been dodging Linda all week about this.
Cole
I’m waiting for her to give me some possible dates. I’ll let you know.
Linda
Try to nudge her a little. The faster we publicize the end of your playboy days, the better!
That wasn’t a total lie. I still want to convince Erika do the fantasy date with me. I just need more time.
As I put my phone away, I spot her walking toward me, and my mouth goes dry.
I recognize her from the pale blue sundress and white floppy beach hat she told me to look for.
And of course, sunglasses.
What she failed to mention was just how stunning she is, like a blonde Kate Middleton strolling through the royal garden.
Erika
I’m really hoping you’re Cole Ryder.
Cole
Because I’m everything you dreamed of and more?
Erika
No, because I didn’t want to embarrass myself by talking to a total stranger like he’s expecting me.
Erika
But it seems I’ve guessed correctly.
Cole
It’s nice to finally meet you in person, Erika. These are for you.
A pretty blush steals across her cheeks as she accepts the flowers.
Erika
Thank you. I love daisies.
Cole
I’m glad. Come on, I know a quiet spot where we can eat and talk.
Erika
Bring your dates here often?
Cole
Never, but my mom used to bring Case and me here for picnic lunches when we were young. I thought it’d be nice.
I lead her to the shady spot under a grouping of trees. I’d set out a blanket and picnic basket.
Erika
Oh wow, Cole. You’re right, this is very nice.
Cole
I took a chance no one would Yogi Bear my stuff. Guess it paid off.
She laughs and lowers herself to the blanket, removing her hat and sunglasses.
I can’t help but stare. She has the most captivating blue eyes I’ve ever seen.
Her face blanches, as if she’s been caught, but I have no clue why.
Cole
Absolutely beautiful. And I mean that in the least generic way possible.
Erika
Thank you. You’re a lot better looking without all the bulky pads and mouth guard.
Cole
Really? I thought all the padding made me look muscular.
Erika
No, it kind of makes you look fat. Like you’ve had a few too many Maxwell Street Polish sandwiches, if you know what I mean.
Cole
Ouch. Now my poor ego’s bruised. But speaking of Maxwell Street Polishes...
I open up the picnic basket and take out our spread of Portillo’s, including chocolate malts I kept cold with an insulated bag.
Erika
Oh my gosh, you brought my favorite meal! You get brownie points for paying attention.
Cole
It’s not paying attention as much as it is genuine interest in what you have to say, Erika.
Erika
I can say the same to you.
I smile, taking off my Oakley’s. She inhales sharply and reaches up to touch my cheek.
Erika
Oh, my gosh! How’d you get the black eye?
Cole
I forgot about that. Casualty of war. Took an elbow to the face in the last game.
Erika
Does that happen a lot?
Cole
Not often in my position. My friend Sebastian is our enforcer.
Cole
He’s usually the one with the black eyes or bloody lips.
Erika
Wait, what’s an enforcer? I’m going to need a layman’s hockey education.
Cole
The easiest way to describe it is that it’s his job to get into fights on the ice.
Cole
Nope. When the other team plays dirty with our star players or goalie, Bast responds with his fists. Every team has one.
Erika
That’s crazy. What are you and Case?
Cole
Case is our goalie and he’s a damn good one. I’m considered a power forward.
Cole
It means I’m either working to score or spending time in the Sin Bin.
Erika
That sounds like a horrible euphemism for something that has nothing to do with hockey.
Cole
Sorry. I’m good at scoring points but I have to play aggressively.
Cole
That usually means I also get put in the penalty box a lot, which we call the Sin Bin.
Erika
Is that like a timeout for hockey players?
I laugh again, nodding. That’s exactly what the Sin Bin’s like.
Erika
With the fighting, dirty playing, and timeouts, hockey sounds like it was invented by five-year-olds.
Cole
That, or cavemen. Historians still aren’t clear of its origin.
Erika
Interesting. What else should I know about you?
Cole
I’m surprised you haven’t asked me about the elephant in the room yet.
Cole
Did you really not Google me after I told you who I was?
Erika
I don’t like the idea of reading about someone’s life on the internet. I’d rather get to know someone the old-fashioned way.
Something I can’t quite read — discomfort? — flashes in her eyes before she hides it with a smile.
Erika
But now I feel like you have some scandalous skeletons in your closet I should know about!
Her teasing grin fades when I don’t automatically reassure her.
Cole
It’s really not as big of a deal as everyone made it out to be.
Cole
A couple months ago, a group of puck bunnies—
Erika
What’s a puck bunny?
Cole
Women who specifically chase after hockey players.
Erika
They honestly call themselves that?
Cole
Um… yeah. Anyway, a group of them were outed for a game they invented online.
Cole
They had a website that tracked which NHL players they allegedly slept with, using selfies of them with the players.
Cole
I was one of the guys who appeared on the website. A lot.
Cole
It changed my reputation from the fun-loving All-American to a douchebag playboy overnight.
Erika
Wow. That actually sounds like a pretty big problem, Cole.
Cole
That’s just it. The media’s making it out to be a bigger issue than it is.
Cole
They’re saying I slept with all 200-plus of those women. It’s ridiculous.
Erika
You slept with over 200 women?
Cole
No, that’s my point. I hadn’t been with 95% of those women.
Cole
People ask to take pictures with me all the time, and I do it, because it’s part of the job.
Cole
They’re claiming it as proof that we hooked up when really it was just a selfie with a fan.
Erika’s eyes soften. She tilts her head, looking at me closely.
I hold my breath, hoping she’ll believe me.
Erika
The truth doesn’t matter to the media.
Erika
Because when you’re in the public eye, perception is reality.
Cole
Exactly. That’s why Linda, my PR manager, cooked up this fantasy date idea.
Cole
She thinks that by showing me treating a woman like a lady, it’ll show the public a different side of me.
Cole
Her new unofficial slogan is “Make Cole Classy Again.”
Cole
So if you could help me out and go on that date with me, you’d be doing me a huge solid.
I chuckle at the lame joke, but Erika isn’t laughing.
Tension brackets her eyes and her lips are pressed into a thin line.
Erika
How good is your PR manager, Cole?
Erika
Would you say she’s extremely resourceful?
Cole
Linda? Yeah, she’s one of the best in the business. But what does—
Erika
This has been your play the whole time, hasn’t it?
Erika
God, I thought you were different.
Erika
You want to use my status to help your image, just like everyone else.
Erika
I should’ve known the whole “wrong number” act was bullshit. I’m done being manipulated.
Before I can get a word in edgewise, Erika gets up and starts to walk away.
I push to my feet and jump in front of her.
Cole
Erika, I don’t know what you think is going on here, but I promise I’m not manipulating you.
Cole
Will you please sit down with me so we can talk about this?
Erika
There’s nothing to talk about, Cole.
Erika
You need someone for a publicity stunt, but I’m not interested in being anyone’s image buffer.
Erika
Do me a favor and lose my number.
