Second Chance with the CEO

by Anna DePalo

  Cole didn’t answer.

  “And you’re conceding the field?”

  “She made her choice,” he responded.

  Jordan shook his head. “Man, you are pathetic—”

  Cole grabbed a fistful of his brother’s shirt and got in Jordan’s face. “Leave it alone.” Then he thrust his brother away and took another swallow of his scotch. He needed something stronger than a beer tonight.

  “You can’t see what’s in front of your eyes.”

  Cole propped a hand up in front of him on the bar and spread his fingers. “I’m not that far gone. Yet.”

  “You want her bad.”

  “There are other women.”

  “Vicki.”

  “Hell, no. We’re through.”

  “So you aren’t willing to settle for any—”

  “She is.” He didn’t need to elaborate who the she was. Marisa. She’d been in his thoughts nonstop. “She’s willing to take the horn-dog back.”

  “Has she said so?”

  “She’s considering it.”

  Jordan looked around. “I thought she’d be here.”

  “Why the hell would she be here?”

  “She texted me earlier. She’s looking for you. She said she had something of yours to return—”

  Probably his heart.

  “—and I told her I had no idea where you were, but the Puck & Shoot was worth a try.”

  Great. There was no way he wanted his brother—and who knew how many others—to witness his final denouement. “She knows how to break up with a guy.”

  “Too public?” Jordan guessed. “Why don’t you go to her apartment then and beat her to it?”

  Brilliant idea. The last thing he needed was for Marisa to find him at the Puck & Shoot, nursing a drink like a lonely lovesick puppy. If he seemed pathetic to Jordan, he didn’t want to think how he’d appear to Marisa.

  If she was looking for him, best to get this over with. He’d save her the hassle of finding him. At least that was what he told himself. He ignored the way his pulse picked up at the thought of seeing her again.

  Cole straightened off the bar stool and tossed some bills on the counter for the waiter.

  “I’ll get you a cab,” Jordan offered.

  Cole twisted his lips. “Because I’m not fit to drive?”

  “Because you’re not fit for public consumption. You look like hell, and something tells me you were that way even before you got to the Puck & Shoot.”

  * * *

  The ride to Marisa’s apartment was swift.

  When Cole reached Marisa’s door, it was open a crack. He heard voices and pushed his way inside without invitation.

  The scene that greeted him made his blood boil. At the entrance to the living room, Sal and Marisa were locked in a tight embrace, Sal’s lips diving for hers. It would have been an arresting tableau even without his appearance as the spurned ex-lover, Cole thought, but his unexpected arrival had turned this into a spectator sport.

  “Sal, no!” Marisa tried to shrug out of Piazza’s grasp.

  The scene before him took on an entirely new cast. Cole sprang forward and yanked Sal away, shoving him up against the wall. He put his face in the sports agent’s surprised one.

  “She said no,” he said between clenched teeth.

  “Hey, man...”

  Cole gave Piazza a rough shake. “Understand?”

  “We were just—”

  He slammed the other guy back against the wall. “You were just leaving.”

  Sal struggled. “Get off me. I have every right to visit my girlfriend.”

  “Your former girlfriend,” Cole corrected.

  “Same goes,” Sal retorted. “You sports guys think you can have whatever you like whenever you want it. How does it feel to be dumped for a change?”

  Cole glanced over at Marisa. He was at a disadvantage because he didn’t know what she had said to Sal and what she hadn’t.

  She looked at him mutely for an instant, as if dumbfounded, and then stepped closer. “Cole, don’t hurt him.”

  Cole turned back to Sal, staring down the red-faced sports agent.

  “I’ll sue you,” Sal said.

  “That’s what it’s always been about,” Cole said. “You hankered for the money and the women, and the other baggage that comes with a pro athlete’s life. Is that why you want Marisa back, too?”

  Marisa gasped.

  Sal gave a disbelieving laugh. “I’ve wised up. You’re on an ego trip, Serenghetti.”

  “Not as big as the one you’re on, Piazza.”

  Marisa came closer. “Cole, let him go. Sal, you need to leave now.”

  The threat of violence hung in the air even as Cole dropped his hold and stepped back.

  Sal shrugged and straightened his collar. Then he ran his hand through his hair before settling his gaze on Marisa. “You know where to reach me, honey. I’ll leave you to give Serenghetti his walking papers. He must have had trouble reading them the first time.”

  Cole tightened his hand into a fist, but he let the sports agent make his exit without further incident.

  When the door to the apartment clicked shut, Marisa turned toward Cole. It was quiet, and they both seemed to realize at the same time that they were now alone to face the charged emotions between them.

  “What are you doing here?” Marisa asked.

  “Thank you, Cole, for saving me,” he replied in a falsetto voice.

  “I can take care of myself.”

  “Right.” He still wanted to break Sal in two. “Here’s the better question. What was Sal doing here, and if he wants you to take him back, why were you resisting?”

  “Sal and I aren’t back together.”

  Despite himself, Cole felt better. She hadn’t taken Sal back yet, and from the looks of things, Sal may just have ruined his chances.

  “But I told him the reason wasn’t because you and I are still together.”

  “So he saw his opportunity to press his case?”

  Marisa sucked in a breath. “Next question. Why did you show up? You couldn’t have known Sal was here.”

  “Jordan said you were trying to track me down.”

  She shook her head. “No.”

  Cole clenched his fist. Either his brother was misinformed, or Jordan had duped him into going to Marisa’s apartment. If he hadn’t agreed to go, would Jordan have tried to lure Marisa down to the Puck & Shoot instead? One thing was for sure—he was going to do physical violence to his brother, upcoming hockey playoffs or no.

  First, though, he needed to get one thing straight. “Fine, you weren’t trying to track me down. I’ve still got something to say.”

  Marisa stared at him without saying a word.

  “You’re a beautiful woman. You’re ambitious and passionate and worthy of whatever life throws at you. The two of us might be finished, but don’t settle for Sal.”

  He wanted to grab her and kiss her, but that would put him in Piazza’s league. Instead, he forced himself to turn and walk out the door.

  * * *

  Marisa expected the senior play to be the last big event on the school calendar at Pershing. She didn’t think, though, that the seniors’ swan song would also be the place she ran into Cole again—maybe for the last time before he left Welsdale.

  Ever since he’d left her apartment last week, she’d been thinking about him. She wasn’t about to take Sal back just because Cole intended to leave town for a coaching job in another state. Sal had only been a convenient smokescreen when Cole had announced he was moving to Wisconsin—and yet the realization that Cole may have been misled had done nothing to ease her heartache...

  She also had no idea why Jordan would have told Cole that she was looking for him. Maybe Jordan had been misinformed—or maybe he was trying to get the two of them back together. No, the latter was wishful thinking.

  She stole a look at Cole, who was sitting across the aisle in a different section of the auditorium. Would she ever stop
yearning where he was concerned? She assumed Cole had been invited to the play by Mr. Dobson because he was a famous alumnus intertwined with the school’s plans for the future.

  Even with the space separating her and Cole, however, she had trouble concentrating. Even more depressingly, Pershing’s seniors were staging Death of a Salesman. And as the scene opened, her heart rose to her throat. Because there it was...

  The sofa where she had lost her virginity to Cole. Right there on stage. She burned to the roots of her hair. She stared ahead, not daring a glance at Cole. Out of the periphery of her eye, however, she thought she detected a movement of his head in her direction...

  Marisa didn’t know how she made it through the rest of the play. The sofa...the memories...Cole. She longed to race up the aisle, through the doors to the auditorium and all the way home...where she could console herself in private.

  She loved Cole, and he didn’t love her in return. It was a replay of high school. And like her mother, she was getting burned by a pro athlete who wanted to pursue his dreams.

  Somehow she made it through the whole play. She breathed a sigh of relief when the curtain came down and the student actors took their final bow. Any moment now, she could duck out.

  But when the audience finished clapping, Mr. Dobson headed to the stage.

  After complimenting the students’ efforts, the principal cleared his throat. “I’d like to make some final remarks, if I may. It’s been a wonderful year for Pershing School. Our fund-raiser was a huge success, and we are constructing a new school gym.” Mr. Dobson paused at the round of applause and cheers. “Great thanks go to Cole Serenghetti and his company for donating construction services. I’m also extremely pleased to announce the new gym will be called The Serg Serenghetti Athletic Building.”

  Marisa’s gaze shot to Cole, but he was looking at Mr. Dobson, clapping like everyone else.

  No one got a campus building named after them without making a major monetary donation. In all likelihood, Cole had made a significant cash pledge in addition to donating construction services.

  But why?

  She’d worked so hard to overcome his resistance to helping with Pershing Shines Bright. The only reason he’d agreed to participate was because of the lucrative construction contract. But now even that profit had evaporated because Cole was making a hefty donation to the school.

  Mr. Dobson waited for the audience to settle down. “I’d also like to take this opportunity to welcome our new assistant principal starting next year, Ms. Marisa Danieli.”

  Marisa blinked, shocked. She hadn’t expected that announcement tonight. Caught by surprise, she felt flustered, her heart beginning to pound. Most of all, she felt Cole’s eyes on her.

  “Ms. Danieli earned her undergraduate and master’s degrees from the University of Massachusetts at Amherst. She has been a beloved teacher at Pershing for almost ten years, and a tireless and invaluable member of the school community. Marisa, please come up here, and everyone, join me in congratulating her.”

  Marisa felt a squeeze on her arm as one of her fellow teachers congratulated her, and then she got up and walked to the stage on rubbery legs. The audience applauded, and there were hoots and hollers from the student body.

  The minute Marisa was on stage, she sought out Cole with her eyes, but he was inscrutable, clapping along with everyone else. Had he played a role in her promotion? Had he put in a good word for her, as the school’s current and likely most valuable benefactor?

  She felt the prickle of tears.

  Mr. Dobson was looking at her expectantly, so she cleared her throat and forced herself to speak. “Thank you. I’m thrilled to be Pershing School’s new assistant principal. Almost twenty years ago, I walked through the front doors here for the first time. I was a scholarship student, and Pershing changed my life.” She paused. “You could say I’ve gone from being called to the principal’s office to having the room next to the principal’s office. The distance is short, but the road’s been long!”

  There was a smattering of laughter and a lot of applause.

  “I’m looking forward to my new role.” Marisa smiled and then shook hands with Mr. Dobson.

  As she stepped off the stage and made her way back to her seat, the principal wished everyone a good night, and the audience began to stand and gather their things.

  Marisa hoped she could make a quick escape. She needed to get her emotions under control and to take time to process everything that had happened. But she was waylaid by congratulations, and by the time she was finished, Cole stood at the end of her aisle.

  Cole’s expression gave nothing away. She, on the other hand, was crumbling.

  She pasted a smile on her face and took the initiative—she was the new assistant principal, after all. “Congratulations. You must be thrilled about the new building being named for your father.”

  “He’s excited about the honor.”

  They stared at each other.

  She clasped her hands together to keep from fidgeting. It was either that or give in to the urge to touch him. “So you’re ready to embrace your alma mater?”

  “That’s one way to interpret a large donation.”

  “Thank you.”

  Cole still looked indecipherable. “Are you speaking in your role as the new assistant principal?”

  “Yes.” And as the woman who loves you.

  He nodded curtly.

  “Did you put in a good word for me?” she asked impulsively, knowing she might not get another chance. “Did you pull strings?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “Did you?” she persisted against all reason.

  Cole shrugged. “It turns out my endorsement wasn’t needed. You were the overwhelming favorite for the job.”

  She swallowed. “Thank you.”

  “You worked hard. You got what you wanted.”

  Not quite. She didn’t have him. She’d never have him.

  Just then, a Pershing board member came up to them. “Cole, there’s someone I’d like to introduce you to.”

  Marisa was thankful to be saved from any additional awkwardness with Cole. Murmuring her goodbyes, she turned and fled down the aisle, head bent. She was sure anyone who saw her face would be able to read the raw emotion on it.

  Tears welled again, and she made for the exit nearest the stage. Everyone else was streaming toward the doors at the back of the auditorium, which led to the street and parking lot. But she needed a moment alone before reaching her car. She didn’t know if she could manage even a small blithe lie to explain away why she was crying.

  In the hall beyond the exit, she made a beeline for the closest door, and found herself in the theater department’s dimly lit prop room. Furniture was stacked everywhere, some of it covered by drop cloths.

  Hearing footsteps outside, she reached behind her and turned the lock on the door and then leaned against the frame.

  Someone tried the knob. “Marisa?”

  Cole. She said nothing—hoping he’d go away.

  “Marisa?” Cole knocked. “Are you okay?”

  No, she wasn’t. He didn’t love her. He was leaving. Nothing was okay.

  “You looked upset when you said goodbye. Let me in, sweet pea.”

  Why? So he could leave her again? She didn’t think she could stand it. She strangled a sob and hoped he didn’t hear it.

  She heard Cole move away from the door, and irrational disappointment hit. Moments later, however, she heard the click of a lock, and then the door was creaking open.

  She stepped back and turned to face Cole. “Underhanded and sneaky.”

  He pocketed a Swiss Army knife. “I learned to pick locks in the Boy Scouts.” Then he looked around the room. “We have to stop meeting this way.”

  “We’re safe. The sofa is still onstage.”

  Cole searched her face and then quirked his lips. “Depends on how you define safe.”

  Marisa’s heart clenched. No, she wasn’t safe...and yet she
felt like she was home whenever she was near him. “Is there anything you do that doesn’t involve bulldozing?”

  “Not if I’m going to continue to be the CEO of Serenghetti Construction.”

  Her eyes went wide. “Is that what you want?”

  He gazed at her and then slowly stepped forward, his look tender. He lifted her chin and brushed a thumb across her cheek. “I want you. Marisa, I love you.”

  She parted her lips and sucked in a tremulous breath, her world tilting.

  “I’ve never said those words to a woman before.” He glanced around the storage room before his gaze came back to hers. “And this isn’t the way I was envisioning things, but the word at the Puck & Shoot is that you told Sal you wouldn’t take him back. Give me a chance, sweet pea.”

  “You’re leaving,” she said in a wobbly voice.

  “No, I’m not. I’m not taking the job in Wisconsin. I’m staying here to run Serenghetti Construction.”

  She rested her hand on his arm. “You were angry at me in high school because I interfered with your hockey dreams. I’m not going to make the same mistake twice.”

  “You’re not,” he said affectionately. “I’ll be coaching here in Welsdale. I’ll be teaching teenagers who want to improve their game for a shot at a college scholarship or even the NHL.” He paused. “Because I know how life-changing those college scholarships can be.”

  Her heart swelled. She adored this man.

  “The more time I had to think about selling Serenghetti Construction, the more it didn’t seem right. I had to acknowledge that construction is in my blood.” He tilted his head. “Besides, I’ve got some ideas, including growing the business into a real estate development firm.”

  Marisa smiled. “Face it, Serenghetti Construction is just another arena for you to be competitive. That’s why you were so set on winning over JM Construction. And who knows? The kids you’re coaching may give you another chance at a hockey championship.”

  “Sometimes, Marisa, I swear you know me better than I know myself.” He brushed her lips with his.

  “Hang on to that thought because I plan to be around a lot.” Cole was good, strong and hardworking. He also happened to be able to make her feel like the sexiest woman alive. He was the person she’d always been looking for.