Faking It With The Hockey Star

Chapter 10: Girlfriend Benefits

Haper’s POV

"Justin."

He didn’t answer. Instead, he calmly lifted his coffee cup and took another sip, as though we were discussing the weather instead of the question that had been spinning around in my head ever since the doctor left.

I folded my arms. "Don’t do that."

He lowered the cup and looked at me innocently. "Do what?"

"That."

"What exactly is ’that’?"

I narrowed my eyes. "The pretending."

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "I have no idea what you’re talking about."

"Justin."

"Harper."

I sighed. "Did you pay for my mother’s surgery?"

He didn’t hesitate. "No."

I stared at him. The answer had come too quickly. Too smoothly. Almost as though he’d rehearsed it.

"You’re lying."

"I’m not."

"You are."

"I’m really not."

I studied his face, hoping to catch the slightest crack in his expression, but he looked annoyingly relaxed. If he was lying, he deserved an Oscar.

"You expect me to believe that some mysterious millionaire woke up this morning and decided to pay for my mother’s surgery?"

"I’ve heard stranger stories."

"Justin."

"What?"

"I’m serious."

"So am I."

I groaned and leaned back in my chair. "This is impossible."

He shrugged. "Sometimes good things happen."

"Not to me."

The words slipped out before I could stop them. His smile faded almost immediately. For a brief second, neither of us spoke. Then he gently set his coffee down.

"I really didn’t pay for it."

I searched his face again. Still nothing. If he was telling the truth, then somewhere out there was a stranger who had just changed my mother’s life. If he was lying, he was unbelievably good at it.

Eventually, I let out a slow breath. "I don’t know whether to believe you."

"You don’t have to."

He stood up and stretched his shoulders. "I need to get back to practice."

I blinked. "Already?"

He looked at the time on his watch. "If Coach has to come looking for me, he’ll probably make me skate until midnight."

Despite everything, I laughed. "Serves you right."

"Oh?"

"You deserve it."

He placed a hand dramatically over his chest. "I’m wounded."

"I’ll survive."

"I doubt it."

He grabbed his hockey bag from the chair beside the window before looking back at me. "If you’d still like some documentary footage, you’re welcome to come tomorrow."

I raised an eyebrow. "Just like that?"

"Just like that."

"You trust me with your teammates?"

"I trust myself to stop them from saying anything stupid."

I smiled. "I’m not sure that’s possible."

"It isn’t."

We both laughed. The sound felt strangely normal. Almost comforting.

Justin pointed at me. "One condition."

"Oh no."

"The documentary credits."

I frowned. "What about them?"

"They’d better say, ’Special thanks to the incredibly handsome Justin Hayes for making this masterpiece possible.’"

I stared at him. "You are unbelievable."

"I prefer unforgettable."

"I was going to write your name in size eight font."

He gasped dramatically. "Harper Brooks, that is cruel."

"I can make it size six."

"You drive a hard bargain."

I shook my head, smiling despite myself. For someone who had been crying less than an hour ago, I was laughing far more than I deserved.

"I’ll bring the contract tomorrow," I said.

He looked up. "You’ve decided?"

I nodded slowly. "I have."

"You don’t have to rush."

"I know."

"Your mother’s surgery is tomorrow."

"I know."

"Take care of that first."

I looked toward the hospital bed where my mother still lay sleeping. "I can’t afford to wait."

He frowned. "Harper..."

"My project is already hanging by a thread. Every day I waste is another day I fall behind."

His expression softened. "You don’t have to carry everything at once."

I laughed quietly. "I don’t have a choice."

For a moment, he simply looked at me. Really looked at me. Then he nodded. "I’ll adjust a few things in the contract."

"What things?"

"You’ll see tomorrow."

"You keep saying mysterious things."

He grinned. "It keeps life interesting."

Before I could ask another question, my phone rang. I glanced at the screen. My manager.

I excused myself and answered immediately. "Hello, Mr. Daniels."

"Where are you?"

I frowned. "At the hospital."

"You were supposed to be here an hour ago."

My stomach dropped. "I know, sir. My mum was rushed into emergency care."

There was a brief silence. Then he snorted. "That’s convenient."

I blinked. "What?"

"I’ve had customers coming into my café all morning asking about you." I frowned in confusion. "What?" "They’re filming inside my shop. They’re asking questions. They’re buying one cup of coffee and sitting there gossiping."

I gripped the phone tighter. "I’m sorry, but I couldn’t leave my mum."

"Funny." His voice turned colder. "I guess dating the university’s hockey superstar makes ordinary jobs beneath you now."

My heart sank. "Sir, that’s not..."

"I don’t need employees who think they’re celebrities."

"Please listen to me."

"No."

"My mother’s..."

"You’re fired."

I felt my throat tighten. "Sir..."

The line went dead.

I slowly lowered the phone from my ear. For several seconds, I simply stared at it. Then, to my own surprise, I laughed. A soft laugh. Then another.

Justin looked at me in confusion. "Harper?"

I shook my head, still laughing. Not because anything was funny. Because life had become so absurd that crying almost seemed pointless.

"If I don’t laugh," I whispered, "I think I’ll completely fall apart."

His smile disappeared. "What happened?"

"I just lost my job."

Silence settled between us. I looked down at my hands.

"My mother’s surgery is tomorrow. I have no job. I have no savings. My project is falling apart." I let out another shaky laugh. "Honestly, I don’t even know what disaster is next."

Justin remained quiet for several moments. Then he picked up the unsigned contract from the bedside table. "Don’t sign this tomorrow."

I looked at him. "What?"

"I’m making changes."

"What changes?"

"You’ll find out tomorrow morning."

Before I could ask another question, he slipped the papers back into his folder. "I should go." He hesitated. "Will somebody stay with you tonight?"

"My younger brother and sister are on their way."

He nodded once, seemingly satisfied. "If anything changes..." He stopped himself. Then quietly corrected his sentence. "When anything changes, call me."

I watched the door long after Justin had disappeared down the hallway. The room suddenly felt much quieter without him in it. Even the steady beeping of my mother’s heart monitor sounded louder now.

I glanced over at her sleeping figure before letting out a long, exhausted sigh. "So much for handling everything on my own," I whispered, brushing a loose strand of hair away from her forehead.

I reached for my phone and opened my banking app. My balance stared back at me. Just enough to survive another week. Maybe. I closed the app almost immediately. There was no point looking at numbers that refused to grow.

The surgery had been paid for, and I still had no idea who had done it. I should have felt relieved. I did. But relief didn’t pay rent. It didn’t keep food on the table. It didn’t replace the job I’d just lost.

I rested my forehead against the edge of my mother’s bed and closed my eyes. How was I supposed to hold this family together?

A soft vibration interrupted my thoughts. An email notification flashed across my screen. At first, I almost ignored it. Then I noticed the sender.

Northbridge Film Equipment Rentals.

My stomach tightened. I opened it.

Subject: Final Reminder, Equipment Reservation Deposit

Dear Harper Brooks,

Congratulations once again on securing one of this semester’s documentary equipment packages. This is a reminder that the security deposit for your reserved equipment must be paid no later than 5:00 p.m. tomorrow.

Your package includes: Professional Cinema Camera, Audio Recording Kit, Lighting Equipment, Stabilization Rig.

Failure to pay the required deposit of $1,800 before the deadline will result in the cancellation of your reservation, and immediate confiscation of the equipment.

Thank you.

I read the email twice. Then a third time. Slowly, I opened my banking app again. The two numbers didn’t even belong in the same universe. My entire account couldn’t cover a fraction of the deposit.

A shaky laugh escaped my lips. Of course. Of course there was something else.

I locked my phone and leaned back in the chair, staring blankly at the ceiling. One problem disappeared. Another one took its place. Maybe this was just what my life had become. A never-ending line of disasters waiting for their turn.