Page 83 of Zero Pucks Given
Eventually, he said, “I’m sorry, but you look familiar.”
“I get that a lot,” I lied. “I’m nobody famous.”
He shook his head. “You’re that woman from the news. The hockey player’s girlfriend.”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” I answered. “We’re not together. I won a contest to go on a date with him, that’s all.”
“Oh. That’s not what I saw on the internet this morning.” He went back to reading his book.
I wondered what he had seen. The Surge had posted everything about our dates in Edmonton on their social media page, so the news must have picked up the story. Hopefully that meant I would get another big bump in views on my TikTok channel. I couldn’t wait tocheck my dashboard when I landed.
It was so nice to lookforwardto reviewing my metrics, rather than dreading the pitiful numbers!
I indulged myself on another mimosa during the flight while brainstorming ideas for new videos. We landed in San Antonio around noon. It was a sunny, cloudless day, which reflected my happy mood.
Until I took my phone off airplane mode.
I had two dozen texts, three voicemails, andhundredsof social media notifications. I stared at the screen, not sure what to check first.
The guy next to me tapped my arm and showed me his phone screen. “This is what I was talking about. That’s you, right?”
I stared at the screen. It took a few seconds for my brain to process what I was seeing.
“Itisyou,” he said. “You’re the woman getting blamed for last night’s loss.”
40
Josie
“ROMANTIC AFFAIR, OR DISASTROUS DISTRACTION?”
That was the headline of the TMZ article on the other passenger’s phone. I snatched it out of his hand and began scrolling.
At the top of the article was a series of photos from my dates with Grayson. And theyweren’tphotos taken by Manny and posted by the Surge’s social media team.
One showed us drinking mimosas at brunch, with a red circle around the bottle of champagne.
Then there was a photo of us at the Italian restaurant, a glass of red wine raised to Grayson’s lips.
The last photo was of us in the hotel bar in Edmonton, my head resting on Grayson’s shoulder.
“What the hell?” I said. “How did they get these photos of us?”
“You’re dating a famous hockey player,” the other passenger said, taking his phone back. “What did you expect?”
I immediately played the first voicemail on my phone. It was from Sharon.
“Uhh, Josie? Honey? You’re blowing up right now, and not in thegood way. They just showed your photoon the local news. Call me when you get this.”
The second voicemail was from one of my cousins who I hadn’t spoken to in over a year. “Hi Josie, it’s Mary. The weirdest thing just happened. I was getting brunch in St. Paul with my sorority sisters and one of them started talking about hockey. She showed me a photo of some athlete down in Texas, and Iswearthe woman he’s on a date with looks like you. Anyways, if itisyou, can you hook me up with a date with one of his teammates? I’m single again, I don’t know if you heard from Uncle Jack, and I’m thinking of coming down to visit…”
“Excuse me?” the man next to me said, gesturing at the aisle. “Can we please leave?”
I mumbled an apology, grabbed my bag, and fled from the plane. It felt like everyone in the airport was staring at me, though I knew it was just my imagination.
Except when I passed an airport restaurant, I saw one of the TMZ photos plastered on the TV above the bar.
Shit.
