Page 3 of If You Give a CEO a Chance

“That has a nice ring to it. Guess I’ll have to get my name swapped out on my jerseys for next season,” I say, flashing her a crooked grin.

“You’re really that full of yourself, aren’t you?”

I give her a cheeky nod. “It’s a gift.”

She glances around as she steps around me. “I really do have to get back to work. I’ll meet you in the hotel lobby in two hours,” she says as she heads toward the banquet hall.

“See you soon, Elizabeth,” I call out after her.

As she walks away, another smile stretches across my face. What started as a brief encounter turned into a lasting impression, and I’m counting down the minutes until I get to spend more time with her.

A light tap on my shoulder brings me back to the present.

When I glance over, Cash is staring at me, worry evident in his eyes. “You okay?” he asks.

I nod, unable to find my voice. I’m frozen in place, grappling with the reality that Elizabeth, the woman who’s haunted my dreams for the last ten years, is none other than Fallon Hayes, the private chef from London. I never thought I’d see her again, much less in my parents’ backyard.

My mind is racing with questions. Why does she go by a different name? Did she know I’d be here tonight? And the one that still keeps me up at night: why didn’t she ever call?

Fallon raises her chin, straightening her shoulders. “Hello, Harrison,” she says in a clipped tone.

“It’syou,”I state coldly.

She narrows her eyes at me. “Cash, you forgot to mention your brother’s charming ego,” she says.

I scoff. “Is sarcasm part of your standard approach with all of your potential clients? No wonder you had to move to another continent to start your new business.”

Cash mentioned that Fallon recently moved from London, where she worked for Theo. I was told she spent the last few years mastering allergy-friendly cooking, skills that would rival elite chefs. And I can’t help but wonder why she’d give all that up to work as a private chef for a handful of clients in New York.

She scowls, putting her hands on her hips. “At least I’m not the one suffering from a case of superiority complex,” she quips.

Cash’s eyes dart between us. “I take it you two have met before?”

Our heated stares remain locked on each other. “Yes,” we say in unison. Her voice carries a trace of bitterness, which leaves me perplexed.

Fallon breaks the silence first, clearing her throat. “Tell your assistant thank you for the interview request, but you’ll have to find another private chef,Mr. Stafford. I don’t work for boorishnarcissists,” she states flatly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to get back to work.” She marches across the deck, her hands clenched at her sides.

Cash turns toward me. “What the hell was that all about?”

“Nothing,” I mutter.

He raises a brow. “That was definitely something.”

“Don’t worry about it. You heard her. She doesn’t want to work for me, so case closed.”

If only it was that easy to erase her from my memory. Believe me, I’ve tried.

Cash taps me on the shoulder. “Uh, Harrison. I’m not so sure you’ll have a choice in the matter.”

“Why not?”

He nods toward the back door where Mom has managed to corner Fallon, casting us an amused glance every now and then with a mischievous smile. “I’m pretty sure Mom’s already plotting how to get you two hitched next.”

I rub my temples and let out a heavy sigh. “Jesus Christ, she’s relentless,” I mutter. “She’s wasting her time. Even if Fallon was the last woman on earth, I’d never date her, let alone marry her.”

Not after she… I shove the thought aside. Today is about Cash and Everly, and I’m not letting Fallon take up any more space in my head than she already has.

“Welcome to the mom meddling club,” Cash says, clapping me on the back. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go find my bride.”

---