Page 41 of The Hockey Pact

"How did you arrange this?" I asked as we pulled up to the secluded location where a guide waited with equipment. "This place is impossible to book without months of advance notice."

Riley smiled mysteriously. "Let's just say one of your teammates has a cousin who manages this place, and he wasvery willing to help arrange a birthday surprise for the Boston Blizzard's captain."

The guide, a weathered man named Hank, taught us fly fishing basics. To my surprise, Riley took to the activity with her usual determined focus, mastering the casting technique faster than I did.

When she caught a respectable trout before I even got a nibble, her triumphant grin sparked my competitive instinct.

"Beginner's luck," I called from my position downstream.

"Sore loser," she shot back, carefully releasing the fish after Hank took a quick photo.

"I haven't lost yet," I protested. "The day is young."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Captain."

Her playful trash talk continued throughout the afternoon, creating an unexpectedly perfect day. The quiet hours on the river fostered a companionable silence punctuated by occasional bursts of excitement when one of us caught something.

By late afternoon, we'd caught several fish between us, which Riley insisted on releasing despite immediately starting to plan how she would have prepared them.

"It would have been perfect with a brown butter herb sauce," she lamented as I released my largest catch of the day. "Maybe with roasted fingerling potatoes..."

"You can cook me fish another time," I smiled, washing my hands in the river. "This was about the experience."

"And the competition," she added with a grin. "Which I won, four fish to three."

"I caught the biggest one," I pointed out. "Quality over quantity."

"Keep telling yourself that." She glanced at her watch. "We should head back. We have somewhere to be at seven."

As we returned to the city, I assumed we'd have a quiet dinner at home or perhaps atHat Trick. Instead, Riley directed me to a nondescript building in an industrial area that looked abandoned.

"Are you planning to murder me and dump my body?" I joked as we parked. "Because I have to warn you, people will notice if the team captain goes missing."

"Very funny. Come on, birthday boy."

She led me to an unmarked door and knocked. It swung open to reveal a man I immediately recognized from television—Chef Antonio, whose cooking shows I secretly binge-watched during road trips.

"You must be Caleb," he said in his distinctive accent, extending his hand. "Your wife has arranged something special."

I turned to Riley in astonishment. "How did you—"

"I noticed how you watch his shows when you think I'm not paying attention," she explained with a smile. "Chef Antonio has agreed to give us a private cooking class, focusing on creating the perfect steak."

"You enjoy steak, yes?" Chef Antonio asked, ushering us inside to a stunning industrial kitchen. "Riley tells me you have been learning to cook. Tonight, we make you expert with beef."

The next few hours flew by in a blur of culinary instruction, wine, and increasingly competitive attempts to outdo each other's dishes. Chef Antonio was clearly amused byour dynamic, declaring us "the most entertaining couple" he'd ever taught.

"You balance each other perfectly," he observed as we plated our final creations—my ribeye with red wine reduction and Riley's filet with blue cheese compound butter. "He is precision, you are intuition. Together, perfection."

The comment lingered in my mind as we walked home along the Charles River afterward, carrying containers of our creations. It was a clear night, unusually warm for November, with just enough breeze to be pleasant.

Riley walked close beside me, occasionally bumping my shoulder companionably as she recounted her favorite parts of the day.

I suddenly stopped walking, turning to face her. "Riley, I need to thank you."

"For what?" she asked, her face curious.

"For today. All of it." I paused, searching for words to express what the day had meant to me. "It's been the best birthday I've ever had. Not because of the fishing or the famous chef, but because you paid attention to things I care about. No one's ever done that before."

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