My Fake Boyfriend Is a Single-Dad Hockey Star

Sienna's POV

“Miss Hart, if my wife ends up sitting next to the Hendersons, I will make sure every sponsor here knows exactly how incompetent this company is.”

I forced a calm smile even as my stomach twisted into knots. “Mr. Calloway, I assure you table three is yours. I fixed it personally this time.”

He glared at me like I’d personally ruined his night. “Then why is Henderson’s name still on the damn card next to it?”

“Two minutes,” I said, already moving. “I’ve got it handled.”

I swapped the cards in under one minute. No thank you, of course. That was the reality of event planning—you solved crisis after crisis with a smile, and if you did it right, no one ever noticed the girl desperately holding everything together with shaking hands and a prayer.

I was still catching my breath when my PA appeared at my elbow again. “Miss Hart, the team captain just arrived and the press is going crazy at the entrance.”

I looked up.

Ethan Hayes strode into the ballroom like he owned the place, and the entire room seemed to tilt in his direction. Tall, dark-haired, broad-shouldered, with that effortless confidence that made people stare. The NHL’s golden boy in the flesh. Women whispered. Cameras flashed. My traitorous heart did a small flip I quickly shut down. I didn’t have time for distractions tonight. Not when Hart Events—my mom’s company, my inheritance, and my last remaining lifeline—was three weeks away from the bank swallowing it whole.

The debt she’d left behind had blindsided me so tonight had to work. It was all I had left of her.

“Miss Hart.” My PA was back, looking frazzled. “Another server issue and the sponsor’s wife is demanding another table change. She’s threatening to pull her husband’s sponsorship if we don’t fix it.”

I sighed and kept moving, heels clicking against the floor. “Tell her I’m coming personally. And get the backup servers on the floor now. We can’t afford any more slip-ups tonight.”

By nine the gala had finally found its rhythm. The music flowed, laughter echoed, and deals were being made in every corner. I slipped away for a quick breather near the catering corridor when I heard a soft, muffled crying coming from behind the service door.

I pushed it open. The narrow hallway was dim and quiet. A little girl with dark curls sat on the floor between two carts, hugging a stuffed rabbit like it was her lifeline as tears streaked her cheeks.

My heart squeezed tight. I crouched down beside her. “Hey there, sweetie. Are you okay?”

“His name is Mr. Flopsy,” she said in a small, shaky voice.

“Mr. Flopsy,” I replied gently, smiling. “That’s a great name. He looks very important.”

“He is a rabbit,” she whispered, sniffling.

“Very distinguished,” I agreed. “Those ears have serious personality. I bet he gives the best hugs.”

The tiniest smile broke through before her face crumpled again. “I can’t find my daddy… I was with Nina and I got lost and I’ve been here for so long…”

“Hey, sweetheart,” I murmured, keeping my voice warm and steady. “We’re going to find him right now, I promise. What’s his name?”

She told me.

I kept my expression neutral, but my pulse spiked. Ethan Hayes. Of course it had to be him.

I clicked my earpiece. “James, quietly find Ethan Hayes and tell him his daughter is safe with event staff. No scene, please.”

“Ethan Hayes has a kid? Wait, seriously?”

“James. Focus. Do it quietly.”

“On it, boss.”

I sat down on the floor next to her, ignoring my dress completely. “While we wait, want to hear a secret? I don’t think Mr. Flopsy is actually just a rabbit.”

She stared, curiosity winning over the tears. “He is.”

“You sure? I think he might be a famous chef who got turned into a rabbit by a jealous food critic.”

Her eyes widened. “Why would someone do that?”

“Because his carrot soufflé was so good it made the critic cry in front of the whole restaurant. Total embarrassment. The critic was so mad he cast a spell right there.”

She burst into bright laughter, and the sound wrapped around my tired heart like a warm blanket. We kept spinning the silly story together, her giggles filling the dim hallway, when the service door suddenly opened.

Ethan Hayes stepped in, still in his sharp tux, eyes scanning until they landed on his daughter. The raw relief on his face did strange things to me.

“Lily!”

“Daddy!” She scrambled up, then turned back to me hopefully. “Can Sienna come to my birthday? Please? She tells the best stories.”

He looked at me and for a heartbeat the air felt charged.

“Sienna Hart,” I said, standing and smoothing my dress. “I’m running the event tonight.”

“She knows all about Mr. Flopsy’s soufflé,” Lily added proudly.

A small, genuine smile touched Ethan’s lips. “Thank you,” he said quietly. “I really mean that. You didn’t have to sit on the floor with her.”

“She’s the best company,” I told Lily, my pulse kicking up. “Stick with your dad now, okay? No more adventures without him.”

Lily hugged me tight before Ethan guided her out. I didn’t notice the photographer in the shadows until he was already gone.

---

I got home just after midnight, kicked my heels off, and collapsed onto the couch, exhaustion sinking deep into my bones. Six hours of pretending I had everything under control while my world felt like it was one bad night away from falling apart.

The gala had been a success. I let myself savor that small win… until my phone started exploding.

I answered without looking. “Yeah?”

“Finally!” Becca’s voice burst through. “Sienna, open T*****r right now. What the hell happened tonight?”

“I just walked in. I’m exhausted—”

“I don’t care. Open it!”

“Becca—”

“SIENNA.”

Her tone made my stomach drop. I opened the app and froze.

ETHAN HAYES’S SECRET GIRLFRIEND REVEALED—AND SHE’S ALREADY A MOM TO HIS DAUGHTER.

My face. Lily’s hands wrapped around mine. Shares skyrocketing.

“Becca…” I whispered.

“I know. This is crazy.”

My phone beeped with another call but it was an unknown number.

“Someone’s calling—”

“Answer it,” she urged. “Then call me back. Sienna—call me back!”

I switched lines, my heart pounding hard.

“Miss Hart.” The man’s voice was cool and controlled. “Mason Reed, Ethan Hayes’s manager. Listen carefully. We have a situation.”

“How did you get my number?”

“Miss Hart,” he said, unfazed, “that’s the least of your problems right now. For the sake of your reputation—and what’s left of your company—you’ll want to hear what I have to say next.”