Fire & Ice//Claude Giroux

Chapter 2

"Tell us about that goal G," barked one reporter. "Do you feel like you and Ghost are developing a sort of chemistry out there?"

"You know, Ghost is becoming a great player. He fed me a clean pass and I went for it. Just glad it went in." Christine smiled to herself. This was classic G. Always calm, to the point, and humble, giving credit to his teammates.

Christine thought about asking a question, but she had always been shy in groups of more than a few people. And this situation was way too intimidating. No, this was just an observational experience. The key was to make it out without any drama.

Soon the questions were over and the reporters started trickling out of the locker room. Christine was taking notes when she suddenly looked up and realized that she and one of the beat writers were the only media members left in the press area. The beat writer was talking to G but she could tell that G was ready to get back to his locker. As Christine quickly turned to walk away, the toe of her shoe caught the carpet and she stumbled. Before she knew it, she was on her knees facing the floor. This can't be happening, she thought. This is another one of my crazy dreams. Wake up, Christine! Wake up! But the pain in her knee told her that this wasn't a dream.

As she was trying to gather her thoughts and decide if she could stand up, she felt a large, warm hand on her elbow. "Are you okay?" It was that French-Canadian accent she knew so well. Only she had never heard that voice directed at her.

"Yes, uh, I think I'm fine." Christine felt her cheeks burn and tried to gather herself and wrap her head around the fact that she was speaking to Claude Giroux. Her dream come true, happening right now....in the most embarrassing way possible.

"Here, let me help you," Giroux offered in a calm, reassuring voice, as he effortlessly lifted her to her feet. Once she was upright, Christine looked around and realized that even though the beat writer and the PR representative were staring at her with a look of horror/pity on their faces, no one else in the locker room seemed to have noticed her big stumble. Except for G, of course. As she turned to him, Christine was overwhelmed by the mere presence of his body as he kept hold of her arm as she leaned into his strong chest.

"How's that knee," G said. "Are you hurt? You gave us quite a scare there. Who knew these carpets were so dangerous?" And then that toothless grin that made her breath catch.

"It's a little sore, but it's okay," Christine mumbled. "Sorry. That was so embarrassing."

"Don't worry about it. You should see how clumsy I am," G chuckled.

Right. G clumsy, she thought. Such a nice guy. Just trying to make me feel better after such a scene.

"I don't think I've ever see you here before," he said.

"No," she said, trying to remember to breathe. "Hi, I'm Christine, this is my first game as press. I write a Flyers blog and live in Virginia."

Christine realized that she and Claude were standing alone in the press area. She suddenly felt awkward. She just wanted to get out of there. This was not how her dream encounter with the Captain was supposed to go. He must think I am a total klutz, she thought. All those beautiful women throwing themselves at him, and I can't even stay on my feet.

"Well, I better get going. Nice to meet you," Christine said as she turned to walk towards the locker room door. As soon as she put weight on her left knee, she felt a jabbing pain. Probably badly bruised again. She knew the feeling well from her ice skating days. But at least those lessons had taught her how to fall without breaking a bone (or her face). The pain brought tears to her eyes, but she had to keep moving. She had to get out of there now.

"Wait," Claude said. "I can't let you walk out of here alone into the snowstorm with that bad knee. You know there is a big snowstorm coming, right?"

"Yes, I heard. It's fine. I can take the subway downtown and walk from there to my hotel," she said.

Claude grinned and chuckled a little. "You obviously aren't from Philly. Though nothing like Ontario, the snowstorms here can be pretty wicked. And it has already started coming down hard from what I've heard, so I wouldn't recommend the walk to the SEPTA station. And you can forget a cab. They are impossible to find in a storm. Let me give you a ride back to your hotel. Where are you staying?"

Had Christine heard him correctly? Had Claude just offered to give her a ride back to her hotel? She must be dreaming. "Seriously, I will give you a ride to wherever you need to go. It is not safe for you to go out there alone," Claude said.

Christine shook herself out of her daydream state and managed to answer him. "I'm staying at the Westin. But I really don't want to bother you. I'm sure you have someplace to be."

"It is not a problem, really," he said, smiling. "I am headed that way anyway. Just give me a couple minutes to shower and change. You can wait for me in the lounge outside that door."

Christine shook her head yes. Words escaped her right now. But she managed to walk out of the locker room and plant herself in the first chair she saw. There was no way she was sitting here waiting for a ride to her hotel from Claude Giroux. But it was true, so she had to try to compose herself. But what would she say to him? How in the world would this go? Sure, she had dreamed about such a moment, but never in a million years did she think it would ever really happen. And, sure, she figured he was a nice guy. But that had to be the only reason he was doing her such a big favor. He had perfect 10s at his disposal 24/7, and that was not how she would describe herself. Nice? Check. Good personality? Check. Cute? So she'd been told. She had received compliments on her petite but curvy frame and wavy brown hair, but the word sexy usually never entered the mix. Did she think she was gorgeous enough to catch #28s eye? No way. Oh well, she thought. Just enjoy your good fortune and try to relax and have fun.