When Vivienne woke up in the morning, she was very appreciative of her friends and very ashamed of her actions. Vivienne sent out a mass text apologizing to the group for her moment of weakness, then proceeded to shower off the filth of the previous night. Vivienne was off on Sundays, and rather than sitting at home, she thought the best medicine for a hang over, aside from the banana she was eating, would be some fresh air. After grabbing some reusable bags and stuffing them in her purse, she exited the loft and trekked up a block to the heart of the Strip District. Like most Sundays, it was busy. People were dressed in Steelers gear, pre-gaming, buying merchandise, and gathering food for their game day parties. Vivienne was excited for the game, but was more interested in getting groceries for the week. After going to the meat shop, the fruit shop, one of the Asian food stores, and a variety of other places, Vivienne decided to stop for a gyro at the Greek store. “Good afternoon, Mr. Labad,” Vivienne greeted her favorite store owner. The older man with the thick, curly mustache smiled. “Hello. Are you here for your usual?” Vivienne smiled as she watched the man put extra meat, lettuce, and cucumber sauce on her gyro, not because that was her usual, but because he was a kind and generous man. He handed her the overflowing aluminum wrapped stuffed pita in exchange for exact change. They said their goodbyes and Vivienne made her way home. She walked about a block when all of a sudden, her fruits were rolling down the sidewalk, her meats were squished on the pavement, and her gyro spilled all over the walkway. “Shit,” Vivienne muttered under her breath. Her hand and someone else’s grazed as they gathered the things that fell. “I am so sorry,” a familiar French accent apologized. Vivienne looked up at the man who had knocked everything from her hands and saw that familiar face; one that she had seen the night before. “We have got to stop meeting like this,” she said to Marc-Andre Fleury. For a minute he looked at her, studying her face, before finally making the connection. “You’re the girl from the bar last night!” Vivienne nodded. “You are right; we do have to stop meeting this way. I promise I am not usually this clumsy. I feel very, very bad. What can I do to repay you? Would you like me to replace your groceries?” “No, everything seems fine. I can wash the produce,” she laughed. Vivienne dug around in her purse. “I would have you sign something, but I don’t have anything for you to sign.” She made a slightly disappointed face. He also frowned. “Maybe I can do something else?” Vivienne shrugged her shoulders. Marc-Andre reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. “If you don’t mind, maybe I can have your number?” Vivienne was a little shocked, but after a short pause, she responded, “Sure.” With a smile, she took his phone, put her number in it, and handed it back. “I‘ll give you a call in a few days. We have a game and some practices so…Do you like coffee?” Vivienne nodded. “I’ll treat you to some coffee. Does that sound alright?” “Yea, I’d really enjoy that. Thank you,” blushed Vivienne. “Alright then. I’ll call you in a few days. Oh boy. I have to get going. Practice starts soon, and if I don’t bring this to Kris…” he trailed off while motioning to a bag filled with something that Vivienne couldn’t guess. “Well it was nice meeting you again. Have fun at practice. Good luck in your game. I’ll know you’ll do great!” The two smiled at each other, waved goodbye, and turned in opposite directions. After putting groceries away, Vivienne called Monica. They talked first about the previous night’s events and Vivienne’s actions. Then Vivienne told Monica what happened minutes earlier. “WHAT?!” Monica exclaimed. “You cannot be serious! Not even 24 hours later you see him again, and he asked for your number. And, and you guys are getting coffee!?” “Well I don’t know that for sure. I mean, he is likely to forget or something. Maybe it was just to get me to leave him alone, even though I didn’t go up to him or anything. I don’t know. But yea, true story.” “You are the luckiest person in the world. Sometimes I hate you.” “Love ya too, girly.” After the exchange, Vivienne got dinner ready and finished the evening in solitude. The next few days went like normal. Vivienne went to work, came home, watched the Pens game, went to bed, rinse, and repeat. Then came Thursday. It started like any other day. Vivienne woke, pulled back the curtains, stared out the window, showered, dried her hair, ate cereal, brushed her teeth, and all the normal stuff people do in the morning. She walked the twenty blocks to work. It was a nice workout that she enjoyed during the warm months. It was a bitter walk in winter, but Vivienne liked staying healthy and fit. Now it was early October, so the weather was still tolerable. At work, Vivienne did more planning for the benefit. The colors were decided, so she was able to put a theme into effect. She decided on floral arrangements and a backdrop for the stage. Vivienne also had to approve of a series of diagrams and photographs for the upcoming business meeting, and sent the decided ones to a print shop and also scanned them onto the computer for the presenters to add to their program, along with a few other things. Work eventually ended. Vivienne began her walk home. And just like any other Pittsburgh day, there was a shift in the weather. The sky opened up and rain fell down. Vivienne’s shoes weren’t exactly good for the rain and she had no umbrella with her, so she was quite miserable. Finally she got to her loft. After checking her mailbox, she found that she had gotten the wrong person’s mail; which meant someone had hers. It could take days for the switch to be made. Since the day was stressful, Vivienne decided some candles and bubbles would be a nice way to relax. With the phone sitting on the sink, a towel on the rack, and her body in the tub, Vivienne settled down into the warm water for a comfortable spa-like leisure. Not moments after she submerged, her phone went off. Vivienne, upon attempting to reach the phone, fell out of the tub and lay sprawled on the floor. “Fuck!” she exclaimed. Vivienne blindly reached for the phone and hit the talk button. “Hello?” she asked without looking at the incoming number. “Hello. Is this Vivienne?” The voice was French. Automatically, Vivienne knew it was Marc-Andre. “Yes, and this is?” Vivienne was playing coy so he wouldn’t think she’d been waiting for his call. She really hadn’t; the woman figured nothing would come of the other day’s events. To be honest, she was extremely shocked that he even remembered she existed, let alone called her. “It’s Marc-Andre. We met the other night…” “Oh hey! What’s up?” Vivienne pretended not to be in pain from falling out of the tub. “Nothing much. Uhm. I’m calling about taking you out for coffee. When would be good for you? I have a game Saturday night, but there’s an optional skate in the afternoon. I could skip it. Or we could get coffee and you could come watch the practice if you want…” He sounded a little shy at the last suggestion. “You really think Coach Bylsma and the other coaches and players would be ok if I watched?” “I doubt they would mind.” Vivienne was smiling very wide. “That sounds like a great time! Where should I meet you at? And when?” “Hmmm,” Marc-Andre thought. “Practice starts at eleven, so maybe if we met at that place near the spice store in the Strip at 930, we could walk up to Consol Energy together?” “That sounds good. But don’t yinz practice at South Point?” “Usually we do, but for some reason Coach has us at Consol that day.” “Oh, alright. Well are you sure you don’t want to go anywhere closer to the rink? There’s a Cute Goat Coffee, a Breugger’s, and a Dunkin’ Donuts on Grant Avenue. I don’t mind walking, but if you have a practice and a game, I don’t want you to over exert yourself.” “Thank you for your concern, but its fine. The farther walk will be a good warm up.” She spoke in a slightly high, definitely excited voice, “Alright. I’ll see you then. Bye!” “Good bye!” As soon as he hung up, Vivienne freaked out. She was so excited. And then she remembered what she was doing before he called. Vivienne put one leg in the tub but quickly pulled it out. In the time she was talking, her nice warm bath became lukewarm. “Ugh. This isn’t even worth it anymore,” mumbled Vivienne as she drained the tub.