The Pucking Wrong Date: A Hockey Romance (The Pucking Wrong Series Book 3)
The Pucking Wrong Date: Prologue

9 YEARS OLD

I stood there, my heart pounding like a drum, my small hands trembling at my sides.

The waiting room felt frigid, the harsh overhead lights casting a stark glare on the blank beige walls.

Mama had curled my hair that morning. She’d used a lot of hairspray, and the tight curls tugged at my scalp, making me wish I could scratch my head. She’d also spent the little money we had on a pretty, frilly dress that looked like it belonged to a princess. But it itched, and I was scared.

I didn’t want to be here.

I’d only ever sung at church and at home. I didn’t like this.

Mama and I stood there in uneasy silence, waiting for our turn. The tension in the room was so thick that it was suffocating. She finally turned her attention to my face, her gaze boring into me, her brown eyes filled with a cold determination that made me really nervous. She grabbed my shoulders firmly, her grip almost painful. ‘Olivia,’ she began, her voice low and sharp, ‘I need you to grasp just how vital this audition is. Our entire future hinges on this. You cannot make any mistakes.’

I nodded hesitantly, trying to hide the fear that was bubbling up inside me. I didn’t even know what she meant. Did she mean I had to get all the words right? I could do that.

At least I thought I could.

‘I understand, Mama,” I whispered, hating how her lips curled up in disgust at the sound of the nervousness in my voice.

She was pretty, like a movie star, with her hair all done up and her best dress on. Her eyes were always angry though, and her mouth was in a tight line, like she was trying to hold back. I wished she ever smiled at me. Her fingers dug into my arms, and she leaned in closer, her voice turning even colder. ‘You have a talent, Olivia, and I’ve spent everything to get you here. If you mess this up, if you embarrass us in front of those people in there, you’ll ruin everything I’ve worked for. Can your little brain understand that?’

Tears welled up in my eyes as her words washed over me. If there was one thing that I hated doing, it was disappointing her. And it seemed like I was always doing that. ‘I’ll do my best. I promise.’

She didn’t smile or show any sign of warmth. Instead, she released her grip on me and said, ‘You’d better. Because if you don’t, if you waste this opportunity, I won’t forgive you, Olivia. I won’t forget it.’

With that chilling warning, she straightened up.

Her cold words were still lingering in the air when there was a knock on the door. A second later it opened, revealing a young woman with short, dark hair and a serious demeanor, like this place never let her have any fun.

“My name’s Kylie. If you would follow me, please,” she said as she turned and started down the hallway, not bothering to look back and see if we were still behind her.

Mama pushed me forward and I followed Kylie down a dimly lit hallway adorned with framed pictures of famous musicians who had once graced the same record label. Their faces stared down at us, and my nerves crept up my skin even more.

My fingers smoothed the frills of my itchy dress anxiously as we continued down the hallway. I could feel Mama’s tension radiating from her, and it made the silence between us feel even heavier.

We finally stopped in front of a metal door, and the assistant turned to me with a faint, sympathetic smile. She leaned in closer, her voice hushed, and whispered, ‘Good luck.’

A second later, I was being pushed through a door, Mama close behind me. The huge room had walls that stretched up so high they seemed to touch the sky. There were big windows that let in the sunlight, making everything seem brighter. But even with all that light, the room felt dark and scary. There were men in suits sitting around a long table, their faces serious and their voices low. They looked important, like they could make things happen with just a word. I felt small and out of place standing in front of them. As the door closed, Mama’s words were still echoing around in my head, and knowing this was so important was making me even more nervous.

‘Go on, Olivia,’ she whispered frantically, her voice strained and desperate. She stood behind me, her hands on my shoulders, but they felt heavy, like they were pushing me forward. ‘Sing.’

As I looked at the men in their fancy suits and stern faces, I couldn’t help but feel like a little mouse caught in a room full of hungry cats.

The way that they were staring at me…their eyes sharp, like they were trying to see inside my soul. Mama had told me they were important people from a record label. Was this how all rich people were? Intimidating? They were way more scary than the principal at my school, Mr. Henry.

I took a deep breath, trying to replace the courage to start. The room was so quiet that I could hear the hum of the fluorescent lights above us. I squeezed my eyes shut and began to sing, my voice trembling like a leaf in the wind.

But something was wrong. The words caught in my throat, and my voice cracked. I couldn’t breathe, and I felt like I was choking. My heart raced, and I opened my eyes to see the men still watching me, their faces unreadable.

Tears were welling in my eyes, and I wanted to run out of the room and hide. But I couldn’t. Mama had said this was our chance, and I couldn’t let her down. Not like I always did.

I tried to sing again, but all that came out was a soft, shaky whisper.

The men exchanged glances, and a few of them shook their heads. Another cleared his throat, and they all stood up.

“I think we’ve seen all we need to. She’s a cute kid,” one of the men offered as he walked out of the room. He was the only one who said anything.

Mama’s fingers dug into my shoulders, the harsh bite of her nails pricking me with pain. Her anger was a tangible thing, and I was terrified of what was going to happen once we left here today.

‘She’s just nervous!” she practically shouted at the suited men as they filed out one by one. “She can sing, I promise.’

But the men just kept walking, their expensive shoes clicking on the tile floor. Mama let go of my shoulders and took a few steps after them, her voice pleading and desperate. I stood there, feeling small and insignificant, like a bug that had been squashed.

The door slammed shut behind them all.

And then there was only silence.

Dark, terrible silence. That felt like the end.

Mama was still, her lips pressed into a thin line, and her face was flushed red. Her whole body was trembling, and her eyes were wet with tears.

She didn’t look at me. But maybe that was worse.

I was the worst daughter in the world.

She didn’t speak for a few long, torturous minutes.

‘You ruined everything, you stupid little bitch,’ she finally whispered, her voice shaking with the fury she was trying to contain. I held in the sob throbbing in my chest—she hated when I cried.

This was a moment where she would have normally been screaming at me. But of course she couldn’t do that here. ‘Our whole future was in that moment, and you couldn’t even sing a simple, stupid song.’

She squeezed the bridge of her nose and stared off at the wall, lost in thought. Taking a deep breath, she patted down her still perfect hair.

And then she glanced down at me, like I was a worm, writhing there under the ground beneath her. “I will fix this. And if you disappoint me again…if you fuck it up…I am done with you.”

I shuddered under her gaze, the hate in it soaking into my skin and making my tummy hurt even more than it already was.

She said things like that to me all the time. But right now…it felt like she really meant it.

Mama walked me down the hall, past the harried looking employees whose frantic movements reminded me of bees swarming around a hive like they used to do at grandpa’s old farm when I was really little.

She didn’t speak to me, not while she was frog marching me to the car, not when she threw the door open, not when she tossed me inside like a pile of luggage.

And not when she slammed the door closed, clicking the lock behind her as she stalked off in her high heels.

I sat alone in the car, the cold seeping into my bones as the minutes turned into hours. My breath formed frosty clouds in the frigid air, and I wrapped my arms around myself, shivering uncontrollably. The car was freezing, and it felt like I was never going to be warm again. I didn’t dare move though, didn’t dare even consider leaving the car. Her anger was already scary and unpredictable…I couldn’t afford to do anything else.

The darkness outside deepened as night fell, and the streetlights cast long, eerie shadows that danced across the windows. I’d always been scared of the dark. Every person that passed the car was a potential murderer or monster. I slapped a hand over my mouth to hold in my whimpers…even though no one was in the car to hear them.

I had no idea how much time passed. I only knew that I had to pee…really really badly. My hands felt numb, and my teeth chattered as I huddled in the backseat.

Finally, when it seemed like an eternity had passed, the car door opened. I looked up, startled, and there she was—dressed in a tight black dress, her lips painted a mean looking red color. Her expression was unreadable, and I couldn’t help but feel a pang of fear deep in my chest as she stared down at me.

“Get out,” she hissed, and I stiffly slid out of the car into the even colder night.

I didn’t bother asking where we were going. I’d learned long ago she didn’t like that sort of thing…where it seemed like I was questioning her.

Mama led me down a dimly lit street, and I shivered, still feeling cold all the way into my bones. After a couple of minutes of walking, we arrived at a fancy-looking restaurant, with a sign done in pretty cursive letters. She ushered me inside, the heavy door closing behind us with a soft thud.

Once in the building, she let me go to the bathroom, and then had me sit on a plush leather bench near the entrance before disappearing again, with a stern look thrown over her shoulder that warned me I shouldn’t move. People passing by gave me side glances, and I squirmed uncomfortably on the bench.

I hated people looking at me.

As I stared around, I realized that I was the only child in the place. The lighting was dim, casting long shadows that danced across the walls, and weird, unfamiliar music played softly in the background. All the adults were dressed in fancy clothes, holding drinks in their hands, and talking in hushed conversations.

I stared at my scuffed shoes. Mama had tried to make them look better with some permanent marker, but there was only so much you could do.

A flash of blonde, and I saw her—Mama—laughing and smiling at a man I could have sworn was at the meeting this morning. What was she doing?

I’d never seen her like that…so happy. She was never like that around me.

Minutes turned into what felt like hours, and I watched as my mother eventually took the man’s hand, leading him away from the bar and deeper into the dimly lit restaurant. My stomach was growling–I was so hungry, and I wanted to leave…something about this place made me feel nervous.

I continued to wait in the dimly lit corner, feeling like a forgotten piece of furniture as I sat there. The low, unfamiliar music played on, and I glanced around uneasily, wishing that she would return soon.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, they came out from wherever they had disappeared to. Mama’s hair was messy, and her lipstick was smeared, the edges of the red visible on her perfectly powdered skin.

But it was the smile on her face that scared me. There was something unsettling about it, something that made me fidgety. Although I didn’t quite know why.

The man leaned in to kiss her, grabbing her butt as he did so, and my belly churned as I watched in confusion. After a minute, she slowly pulled away and winked at him before striding towards where I was sitting.

Her smile was gone once she got to me. She grabbed my arm, her grip strong and painful like it had been all day, and she dragged me out of the restaurant and back to the car.

We started to drive, and then finally Mama turned to me, her voice low and menacing. ‘You’re getting another chance tomorrow,’ she said, her words cutting through the air like a razor.

I nodded, unsure of what to say. How had she gotten me another chance? I couldn’t ask though, she’d just get mad at that.

“Look at me,” she growled, and then, without warning, she backhanded me across the face. It was a sharp, stinging pain that brought tears to my eyes. She’d screamed at me before obviously, dug her nails into my skin, shook me to get a point across…but she’d never hit me.

The shock of it twisted something inside me, leaving a strange, tingly feeling that spread throughout my chest.

Mama’s eyes bored into mine, and her voice was cold and threatening when she spoke again. ‘This is just the beginning, Olivia. If you mess up again, it won’t be just a slap. You hear me? I’ll make you wish you were dead.’

I nodded, the tears I’d been doing my best to hold in all day now streaming down my cheeks.

She scoffed at the sight of my pain, and the rest of the drive was done in silence.

The next morning found us back at the same place, and I couldn’t shake the numbness that had settled over me since she’d slapped me. But maybe that was better than the scary feeling I’d felt yesterday.

Maybe.

Just like before, there was another knock on the door and the same assistant was there, her eyes widening when she saw us. ‘I’ve never seen someone get a second chance,’ she commented as she gestured us out into the hallway, clearly trying to get answers from my mother. “Lucky girl.”

Mama simply hummed, a slight smirk on her lips as we walked.

We were led into the same room where I had failed so badly the previous day, but this time…something had changed within me. The nerves that had bothered me were gone, replaced by that odd sense of detachment, like I wasn’t really standing there, and they weren’t really watching me. The men in suits stared at me with blank faces, the expectation from yesterday completely gone, like they were ready for me to fail again. The man from last night was seated on the right, and I saw him shoot my mother a wink.

I studied it all for a long moment, until my mother shifted, panic starting to creep into her features.

And then I opened my mouth…and I sang.

The notes flowed effortlessly from my lips, filling the room. I could do this. As Mama always told me, I wasn’t smart, and I wasn’t good for much else.

But I could sing.

I closed my eyes as the song flowed out, allowing the music to carry me away. I was singing “I Dreamed a Dream.” It had been Grandma’s favorite song, and she’d taught it to me when we would sing together at her house. She cried every time I sang it.

When I finally opened my eyes, I saw a glimmer of approval in the faces of the men who had watched me so closely. The man from last night nodded at Mama, and her whole body seemed to slump in relief.

Did that mean I’d done good…that she wasn’t going to be mad at me anymore?

The rest of the room got up, and just like yesterday, they started to leave.

The man from last night stopped in front of us, though. He was really handsome, with nice combed black hair and a suit that was sharp and crisp, like the fancy ones you saw on people in the movies.

But there was something about him that made my skin feel like bugs were crawling all over it.

Everything about him seemed too polished, too perfect, and his dark brown eyes…they were the worst part. They were cold like Mama’s, and I hated how they seemed to measure and judge everything about me.

With a faint smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, he leaned down, ‘You’re going to be a big star, sweetheart.’ His words were silky and smooth, and oily feeling. I didn’t like the way they slid across my skin. I especially didn’t like the way he was staring at me. I shivered and Mama’s nails dug into my shoulder, silently telling me that wasn’t allowed.

The man held out his hand. “I’m Marco. And you and I…we’re going to be best friends.”

I shook his hand, not sure what I was supposed to say. “I’m Olivia,” I finally said…dumbly. Because surely everyone had known who I was before I sang…right?

He chuckled, but there wasn’t any happiness in the sound. It felt like he was laughing at me.

I hated when grownups did that.

After he let go of my hand, he patted my head. His touch was too firm, too possessive, and I shifted uncomfortably under his grip.

Mama, as usual, didn’t catch on to my uncomfortableness.

Or maybe it was that she just didn’t care.

That was probably it.

“So what’s next?” she purred, clasping her hands under her chin and beaming at Marco like he was the most wonderful person she’d ever met.

Marco started to captivate her with a bunch of stuff I didn’t fully understand—recording a Christmas album, TV show auditions, photo shoots, and more. When he mentioned something about a tour, I blinked a couple of times. Because I couldn’t do that. I had school and my friends, and I had my choir concert coming up in the spring.

‘What about school?’ I stuttered when they mentioned a bunch of cities. Besides this trip, I’d never been outside the county line. The cities he was mentioning were all over the country.

Marco stared down at me, his expression blank. Mama’s face was a mixture of rage and annoyance, neither of which were good for me.

His grip in my hair tightened for a moment, and then he patted my head in a condescending way. ‘None of that matters now, Olivia,’ he said dismissively, his voice dripping with superiority. “We’ve got much more fun things on the horizon than a little bit of formal education.” He chuckled again, that wrong feeling slicing down my back. “And besides…aren’t your classmates going to be so jealous when you’re a big star?”

My eyes widened. I didn’t care about any of that. Lottie and Megan didn’t care about that. I wasn’t going to see my best friends anymore?

They continued to talk about plans, and with their words, the numbness I’d been feeling was sliding into panic.

What was happening?

When was my mother going to explain to me what was going on? Leading up to yesterday, Mama had been nothing but vague, talking about this “life changing moment” without telling me what was so life changing about it.

‘We’ll need to give her some highlights, and a much better haircut,’ Marco drawled, directing my attention from my nerves, to the fact that he was staring at me again. “And those clothes…” his voice trailed off, but that mocking tone was there, fixed in every word he spoke.

I glanced down at my dress, wondering what was wrong with it. I glanced at Mama and saw her cheeks were flushed, like she was embarrassed.

‘And she’ll need to gain a few pounds,” Marco continued. “We can’t have her looking like a street urchin.”

I smoothed down my dress as they continued to talk about all the things they wanted to change about me, like I wasn’t even there.

Marco’s gaze was still focused on me, his eyes still cold, like there wasn’t anything inside him. Grandpa used to tell me you could tell a lot about a person from their eyes.

I hadn’t understood that until today.

Finally, Marco seemed to be done, glancing down at his watch and swearing when he saw what time it was. “I’ve got to run to a meeting. Marsha will send all the paperwork,” he tossed at us, already striding towards the door.

“Sounds good,” Mama called after him, still speaking in that weird, overly excited voice—one I’d never heard from her before.

Marco paused in the doorway, staring back at me. ‘Olivia, princess, we’re going to make you a star. You’ll have everything you’ve ever dreamed of,” he told me with a smug looking smile before he disappeared from the room.

“And you are going to become a star, little girl,” Mama said through gritted teeth, no sign of the friendliness and happiness she’d possessed just a second ago.

“You have no choice.”