Page 1 of If You Give a CEO a Chance

The fall air is cool against my skin as I step out onto my parents’ patio. Fairy lights hang above, casting a soft glow over the space, and the sound of laughter and conversation fills the air. Tonight, we’re celebrating Cash and Everly’s wedding after their surprise Vegas elopement a few months ago. Since our family wasn’t there, my mom was overjoyed when they agreed to a vow renewal so we could all share in the moment.

Everyone’s mingling on the back deck and sampling appetizers while we wait for dinner. I approach Cash, who’s leaning casually against the railing. Everly must still be inside changing into something more comfortable.

Cash is one of my younger brothers and has always been the easygoing type, drifting through life without a purpose. I used to worry he’d never settle down, but then Everly came back into his life, and everything changed.

He flashes me a grin before popping a stuffed mushroom into his mouth. “This is incredible,” he mumbles, barely pausing to swallow. “Fallon really outdid herself. Have you met her yet?”

I shake my head. “No, but I’d like to. My assistant interviewed her last week and thinks she’ll be a good fit as my new private chef.”

Everly’s brother Theo, a world-renowned chef, spoke highly of Fallon, his protégé who specializes in allergy-friendly cuisine. I was diagnosed with celiac disease after years of battlingunexplained abdominal pain before a particularly agonizing episode landed me in the hospital, leading to my diagnosis.

I quickly learned that outsourcing household meal prep not only made it easier to stick to a strict gluten-free diet but also allowed me to focus my attention and energy on Stafford Holdings, our family business. It’s the largest real estate firm in the country, which requires constant oversight to ensure every project stays on track and meets our high standards.

When Cash told me Fallon was moving to New York to work as a private chef, I had my assistant contact her since my last chef retired recently. Theo arranged for Fallon to fly to Aspen Grove to cater tonight’s dinner for his sister’s special day, but I haven’t had the chance to introduce myself yet since Fallon’s been tied up in the kitchen all afternoon.

Plus, business doesn’t take a break, even on my brother’s big day. Stafford Holdings is in the final stages of another major acquisition, so while we’re waiting for dinner to begin, I’m reading through an email from our legal team when a voice I never thought I’d hear again interrupts my concentration.

“Is everything to your liking, Cash?”

“Yeah, the food is fantastic. You really outdid yourself, Fallon,” he says with enthusiasm.

“Thank you,” she replies.

“I want to introduce you to my brother Harrison,” Cash says.

The sound of my name pulls my attention away from my phone, and I look up.

My breath falters before setting my mouth into a tight line when I’m met with the gaze of a woman I know all too well. It’s not just those ocean-blue eyes that invade my dreams or the way her tongue grazes her teeth when she’s lost in thought. It’s the fact that I have every curve of her body burned into my memory, even though I only had her for a fleeting moment. Her presence stirs up a memory I’d rather leave buried.

I shove open the double doors to the kitchen, my heart pounding as I glance over my shoulder. A wave of relief sweeps through me when there’s no sign of the puck bunny who was following me. Looks like I lost her when I cut through the service hall. The team invited a group of them to join us tonight, but I wasn’t interested in anyone.

Apparently, being the son of a billionaire real estate mogul and playing professional hockey is enough to make the women chase me like I’m a prize to claim. Granted, at first, I liked the attention. It made the grueling traveling schedule more fun early on in the season, but the novelty wore off quickly, and playing hockey has been my sole focus. Winning the Stanley Cup made it all worthwhile, and better yet, we beat our rivals, the Stormbreakers.

Although the final game was two days ago, the team is still in celebration mode. My family flew home yesterday, but I stayed behind, booking a suite at the hotel for the weekend.

Tonight, the team is hosting a party at one of the event rooms before hitting up a club.

Unaware of my surroundings, I stumble back when I realize I’ve bumped into someone, or should I say a silver tray pressing into my stomach. I glance down at the champagne glasses teetering on the edge, threatening to spill over, and grab the server’s wrist to steady it.

“Are you…” I trail off as I look up and lock eyes with a woman.

Her blonde hair is styled in soft waves, falling to her shoulders, framing her delicate oval face and piercing blue eyes. The scent of vanilla and oranges infiltrates my nose as I take her in.

She’s beautiful.

Her skin is soft under my touch, and an electric jolt races down my spine. She shivers when I let my hand linger, theair between us crackling with unspoken tension. Her breathing quickens as she tips her head to get a better look at me.

She readjusts the tray, raising an eyebrow. “Could you watch where you’re going? I’d hate for you to take a champagne shower and ruin that fancy suit of yours.”

“I don’t mind getting wet, but at least let me buy you dinner first.” I wink.

She snorts. “You’re just lucky it wasn’t the Dom Pérignon, or you’d be footing a hefty bill if it had spilled. They serve the expensive champagne at the top of the night and then switch to the cheaper stuff once everyone’s hammered. No one knows the difference.”

“Except you, right?” I quip.

She sets the serving tray down on a nearby counter and shakes out her wrists. “Sure, if reading labels on bottles is considered a talent.”

A smile lights up my face. I’d be lying if I said her comment doesn’t have my body standing at attention.

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