Lucky Break

“Sadie, I need you to cover Grayson Reid for the Calgary Avalanche feature. This is a career-making opportunity for you.”

My fingers freeze over the keyboard, and I can feel my heart beat a little faster. The Calgary Avalanche. That’s not just any team—that’s my team. The one I’ve been following since I was a kid. The one my dad and I bonded over every Saturday night while eating leftover pizza and yelling at the TV like the players could actually hear us. My whole family eats, sleeps, and breathes hockey, and I’m lucky enough to be writing about it for a living. But this? This is different. This is Grayson Reid. The defenseman who’s been the face of the team for years now. The guy with the sniper’s shot and the immovable presence on the ice. The one who’s literally a living legend in the sport.

“Wait, hold on. Did you just say Grayson Reid? The Grayson Reid?” I can’t keep the excitement out of my voice, and I can feel my eyes practically sparkle.

Greg looks up from his tablet, his eyebrow lifting. “Yes. Him. We want you to do a feature on him—his career, his rise to the top, his impact on the team. It’s your chance to really make a name for yourself, Sadie.”

I lean back in my chair, biting my lip as I process this. The Calgary Avalanche feature could be my big break. It could put me on the map in ways that I’ve only dreamt of. Grayson Reid—he’s the definition of star power. This could be my shot at writing something that isn’t just clickbait fluff. And unlike some of the other puffy “heartwarming” profiles out there, I’ll be doing the real story—the grit, the sweat, the grind behind it all.

“I mean, yeah. Who wouldn’t want to cover him?” I try to sound casual, but my voice betrays me, and I’m pretty sure I’m practically glowing. “When do I start?”

Greg doesn’t miss a beat. “I’ll put you in touch with his PR people. But don’t think it’s going to be a walk in the park. Grayson Reid isn’t exactly the type to open up easily. He’s a bit of a closed book, and he’s known for being superstitious. Don’t be surprised if he gives you a hard time getting past the usual cliches. You’ll need to earn his trust.”

I nod, already mentally preparing. I’ve worked with players before, but none with the same amount of baggage as someone like Reid. I know he’s got a reputation for being distant and for relying heavily on his superstitions, but I can handle it. The Avalanche is practically my second family. I’ve spent years covering the sport, learning everything I can about the players, the stats, and the stories. I know how to talk to athletes. I know how to get to the heart of what makes them tick.

And Grayson Reid—well, he’s a challenge I’m excited to take on.

“I’ll figure him out,” I say, my tone more confident than I feel. “I’ve been around hockey my whole life. This is what I’m meant to do.”

Greg’s eyes flick to me over his glasses, clearly sizing me up. “Good. But remember, this isn’t about rewriting the typical story. It’s about getting inside his head, getting to the core of who he really is. Hockey fans—especially the ones who follow Reid—they want the truth. They want to see the man behind the mask. So if you’re gonna do this, do it right.”

I swallow, a bit of the nerves creeping back in. I’ve written about hockey for years, but this feels different. Grayson Reid isn’t just any player. He’s the player. People would probably die to be in my shoes right now, and yet here I am, trying not to let my pulse race like a rookie on a playoff-bound team.

“I’ve got it,” I say, giving him a determined smile. “I’ll bring something real to the table. I’m not interested in fluff.”

Greg’s gaze softens just a fraction, and I can see the faintest hint of approval. “Good. I’m counting on you. I’ll get you the details from his PR team. Don’t let me down.”

As Greg walks out, I lean back in my chair, letting out a deep breath. The Avalanche have been a huge part of my life since I was a kid, and the fact that I’m getting the chance to write about Grayson Reid? Well, it feels like I’m stepping into the world I’ve always dreamed about.

The problem? He’s going to be a tough nut to crack. The more I think about it, the more I realise that getting close to him might be harder than I first thought. Not just because he’s a superstar or because he’s got PR people all over him. No, it’s more than that. It’s his reputation—his carefully curated image. He’s been in the spotlight for so long that I can’t help but wonder how much of the real him is buried under the surface. Does he even let anyone in?

But I’ve got this. I’ve spent my entire life in hockey rinks, surrounded by passionate fans and players. I’ve got a sixth sense for the game and what makes it tick. I’ll break through his walls. I’ll get the real story.

And then—the charity event.

The Avalanche Gala is in full swing, and I’m struggling to remember why I thought this would be a good idea. I’m standing at the edge of the room, trying to look professional while being completely out of my element. The Calgary Avalanche’s stars are scattered around, mingling with sponsors and high-profile donors, and I’m just trying not to embarrass myself.

I keep thinking about the interview. I’m supposed to get Gray Reid’s first official sit-down with a reporter. It’s my big chance to shine. So why does it feel like the world is conspiring against me?

The entire room is buzzing with excitement, and I can feel the pressure of the moment building. I glance over to where Gray is standing in the centre of a group of women. His beanie, that iconic piece of his wardrobe, sits on his head like a crown. It’s the one thing about him that never changes, no matter how much his public image has shifted over the years. That beanie is everything to him. I’ve read articles about it. It’s his lucky charm.

I can feel the nerves creeping in as I watch him laugh at something one of his teammates says. His charisma is magnetic, even when he’s just standing there, laughing like the room revolves around him. I’m so not built for this.

“Sadie!”

I turn to find Emily, the PR assistant, waving at me. She’s all smiles and champagne, her energy far too high for my current state of anxiety. She quickly ushers me over to the group surrounding Gray.

“Here he is,” she says, voice pitched a little too high. “Go talk to him. I’ll leave you to it.”

And just like that, I’m standing in front of Gray Reid.

Gray Reid.

It’s almost too much to take in, but I’ve prepared for this. I’ve read his interviews, watched his games. I know the man behind the media frenzy. Still, I can’t help but feel a little starstruck.

He turns to face me, his beanie sitting snugly on his head. His eyes meet mine, and for a second, time seems to slow down. I’m supposed to be asking him for an interview, but instead, I’m just staring. My brain short-circuits.

“Uh, Sadie, right?” Gray’s voice is low, smooth, with that signature drawl that somehow makes him sound even more charming than he already is.

“Yes. I—uh—I’m here to do a profile piece on you,” I stutter, trying to gather my thoughts. Focus, Sadie. You’ve got this.

Gray flashes a smile that could melt ice, and my pulse skips. “Good to meet you, but I’m sure you’re already sick of hearing about me, huh?”

“I’m just trying to get past the headlines,” I say, forcing a smile and hoping I don’t sound too awkward. “Get to the real story, you know? The person behind the jersey.”

“I’m all yours.” His grin widens, but there’s a slight wariness in his eyes. I can tell he’s sizing me up, maybe even wondering what I’m really after.

I take a deep breath, mentally preparing myself for the barrage of questions I’m about to ask. I can’t let my nerves get the best of me. I can’t let him see how much I admire him. This is a job.

But as I open my mouth to ask my first question, my shoe catches on the edge of the carpet. I stumble pushing into Gray, and the beanie—that famous lucky beanie—falls right off his head, tumbling toward the nearby fondue fountain.

In slow motion, I watch it drop, landing right into the chocolate fountain with a soft, sickening splash. The soft squelch of melted chocolate echoes in my ears as the beanie sinks into the gooey mess. My breath catches in my throat, and before I can process what just happened, I’m reaching forward, my hands instinctively trying to grab the beanie out of the fountain.

But that’s when everything goes horribly wrong.

In my panic, I slap the edge of the fountain with my palm, sending a wave of chocolate cascading over the side. It splashes onto the tablecloth and splatters onto the expensive carpet, creating an absolute disaster. The chocolate spreads like a tsunami, and I can feel my face turning bright red as I watch the mess unfold before my eyes.

Gray’s eyes widen in disbelief as he watches me, his hands instinctively going to his hips. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

I try to pull the beanie out of the chocolate, but it’s already saturated, the melted chocolate clinging to it in disastrous clumps. My hands shake as I try to save the situation, but the more I struggle, the worse it gets. The beanie’s fabric is now drenched, and I’ve somehow managed to cover half the table in chocolate, ruining the centerpiece in the process.

“Oh my God,” I whisper, my voice barely audible over the growing sounds of people laughing and murmuring around us. My heart is hammering in my chest, and I can feel the eyes of the entire room on me. The worst possible thing has just happened.

“Please tell me this is a joke,” Gray mutters, shaking his head in disbelief. He reaches out and takes the ruined beanie from my hands, inspecting it like it’s some kind of lost artifact.

I can’t even look at him. The embarrassment is too much.

“I didn’t mean—” I start, but my voice falters.

“I think that’s enough for tonight,” Gray says dryly, his tone laced with irritation. He turns to his team and shakes his head, obviously trying to hide the fact that he’s about to lose it.

The cameras are already flashing. The social media posts are being written in real-time. The video of the beanie disaster is already going viral. The headline practically writes itself: “Journalist Drops Grayson Reid’s Lucky Beanie into Fondue Fountain.”

I’ve ruined everything.

I walk into the apartment, still in shock, like I’m moving in slow motion. Chocolate is all over my clothes, my hair, my face. I can’t even look at myself in the mirror, but I know it’s bad. I’ve ruined my first big assignment. I’ve ruined Gray Reid’s lucky beanie. I’ve ruined my entire career.

The door slams behind me, and my roommate Emily, who’s sprawled on the couch with a bowl of popcorn, looks up.

“Sadie?” She jumps to her feet, her eyes scanning me from head to toe. “Oh my God… are you okay?”

I stand there in silence, utterly defeated. The weight of the disaster crashes over me, and I can feel my shoulders slump under the embarrassment. The whole night feels like a blur.

“Did someone spill a whole chocolate fountain on you, or is that just your new look?” Emily teases, her voice a little too high-pitched, clearly trying to lighten the mood.

I don’t respond. Instead, I walk over to the couch and flop down dramatically, letting out a long, miserable sigh. The chocolate on my clothes squelches, and I’m not sure whether I should laugh or cry. “I think I might have just ended my career, Em.”

Emily’s face falls, the playful glint in her eye fading as she sits next to me, fully taking in my misery. “Wait, what happened? Was it that interview with the hockey player? Gray Reid?”

I nod, feeling the tears start to well up in my eyes. “You have no idea. I ruined his lucky beanie. I dropped it in the fondue fountain. And when I tried to grab it out, I ended up making a massive mess. The entire room was laughing at me. I—I can’t even… I don’t know how to explain it. I don’t think he’ll ever speak to me again.”

Emily gasps, then snorts. “You did what?!”

“I know! I’m the worst,” I groan, covering my face with my hands. “It’s viral already. They’re probably all over social media with some headline like ‘Journalist Ruins Hockey Star’s Career’. And I was finally getting my chance. I’ve messed everything up. I’m such an idiot.”

Emily leans back against the couch, looking at me like I’m a trainwreck but one that she still loves. “Oh my God, you’re so dramatic.”

“Dramatic? I ruined a man’s lucky charm! His lucky charm, Emily! Do you have any idea how much hockey players like him believe in superstitions?” I turn to her, feeling like I might burst into tears at any second.

“Okay, but chill. We’ve talked about this before. Hockey players are just big, overgrown children who think their socks need to be a certain way for the game to go well,” Emily says with a wink. “Besides, this is Gray Reid we’re talking about. He’s the one who got you the gig in the first place, right? So there’s gotta be a silver lining.”

“Yeah, there is,” I mutter sarcastically, running my hands through my chocolate-smeared hair. “I’m probably fired now.”

“Sadie.” Emily turns to face me, her tone more serious now. “Let’s think this through. Yeah, you made a huge mess, but this could still be your big break. If the media’s already blowing it up, then they’re talking about you, right? You’ve got a chance to turn this into a comeback story. You’re going to be fine.”

I stare at her for a moment, not sure if she’s trying to cheer me up or make it worse. “How am I supposed to fix this?”

“Well, you can’t change the fact that you’re covered in melted chocolate right now, so let’s focus on what you can fix,” Emily says, grabbing the remote and turning on the TV. “Look, hockey players are emotional messes—all that aggression and ego—they love a good drama. If you work it, you might just be able to spin this whole thing into an even bigger win.”

I blink at her, still a little disoriented. “Are you seriously suggesting I use my epic disaster as some kind of PR stunt?”

“Exactly!” Emily grins. “You’re good at this, Sadie. You’ve got the storytelling skills. Lean into the awkwardness, turn it into a redemption arc, and suddenly everyone loves you. Plus, how great would it be if Gray Reid had to work with you again after this whole beanie disaster?”

I wince at the thought. “That’s the last thing he’s going to want to do. He’s going to hate me after this.”

“You’re missing the point,” Emily says, still grinning. “The fans will love you. People love an underdog, and you’re going to become the accidental star of this whole story. They’ll eat it up.”

I can’t help but chuckle, despite myself. “You’re insane.”

“Maybe. But hey, if this doesn’t work, you can always start a new career as a chocolate fountain model,” she teases, nudging me. “You’ll be fine. Just take a deep breath. You’re still Sadie Bennett, hockey journalist extraordinaire. One little chocolate mess isn’t going to take you down.”

I sigh, staring at the ceiling. “I don’t know, Em. I’ve never had a first impression that’s gone quite like this.”

“I’ll tell you what,” Emily says, suddenly serious again. “Why don’t we take a little break, get cleaned up, and then you can start figuring out your next move. I bet you anything Gray Reid will be eating his words by the time you’re done with him.”

“Yeah, maybe,” I murmur, a faint spark of hope flickering somewhere deep inside me. “Maybe there’s a way to fix this after all.”

Emily reaches for the remote again, but then stops. “Just promise me you won’t drown in chocolate tonight. You’re too good for that.”

“Promise,” I say with a tired, but genuine, smile.