little caffeine would help. She felt so tired in the aftermath of a faint.
She loaded water and coffee grinds into the pot and then plugged the thing into the outlet. She wished she could afford one of those fancy coffeemakers that were popular now, but they weren’t in her budget.
Why had she ever agreed to approach Cole Serenghetti? She knew why. She was ambitious enough to want to be assistant principal. It was part of her long climb out of poverty. She credited her academic scholarship to Pershing with helping to turn her life around. And now that she was single and unattached again, she needed something to focus on. Pershing and her teaching job were the thing. And she owed it to the kids.
Marisa shook her head. She’d volunteered to be head of fund-raising at Pershing, but she hadn’t anticipated that the current principal would be so set on getting Cole Serenghetti for their big event. She should have tried harder to talk Mr. Dobson out of it. But he’d discovered from the school yearbook that Cole and Marisa had been in the same graduating class, so he’d assumed Marisa could make a personal appeal to the hockey star, one former classmate to another. There was no way Marisa was going to explain how her high school romance with Cole had ended disastrously.
“So what are you going to do now?” Serafina asked as Marisa set two coffee mugs on the table.
“I don’t know.”
“It’s not like you to give up so easily.”
“You know me well.”
“I’ve known you forever!”
Marisa summoned the determination that had helped her when she’d been the child of a single mother who worked two jobs. “I’ll have to give it another try. I can’t go back to the board admitting defeat this fast. But I can’t lie in wait for Cole again at a construction site, like some crazed stalker.”
Serafina wiped her mouth with a napkin. “You may want to give Jimmy’s Boxing Gym a go.”
“What?”
Serafina gave her an arch look. “It’s beefcake central. Also, Cole Serenghetti is known to be a regular.”
Marisa’s brow puckered. “And you know this, how?”
“The guys down at the Puck & Shoot. The hockey players are regulars.” Sera paused and pulled a face. “Jordan Serenghetti stops in from time to time.”
Judging from Sera’s expression, Marisa concluded her cousin didn’t much care for the youngest Serenghetti brother.
“Are you doing more than moonlighting as a waitress there?” Marisa asked with mock severity.
Serafina shrugged. “If you hung out in bars, you wouldn’t need the tip.” Then she flashed a mischievous grin. “Use it in good health.”
Of course Cole Serenghetti would go to a boxing gym. The place was most likely the diametric opposite of the fancy fitness center where Sal played squash. She’d given up her own membership—with guilty relief—when Sal had unsubscribed from their relationship.
She rolled her eyes heavenward. “What do I wear to a boxing gym...?”
“My guess is, the less, the better.” Serafina curved her lips. “Everyone will be sweaty and hot, hot, hot...”
One week later...
Cole saw his chance in Jordan’s sudden loss of focus and hit him hard, following up with a one-two punch that sent his brother staggering.
Then he paused and wiped his brow while he let Jordan regain his balance, because their purpose was to get some exercise and not to go for a knockout. “I don’t want to ruin your pretty face. I’ll save that thrill for the guys on the ice.”
Jordan grimaced. “Thanks. One of us hasn’t had his nose broken yet, and—” he focused over Cole’s shoulder “—I need to talk pretty right now.”
“What the hell?”
Jordan indicated the doorway with his chin.
When Cole turned around, he cursed.
Marisa was here, and from all the signs, she didn’t have any more sense about a boxing gym than she did about showing up at a construction site in heels. She was drawing plenty of attention from the male clientele—and some were going back for a second look. But her gaze settled nowhere as she made her way toward the ring that he and Jordan were using. She looked pure and unaware of her sexuality in a floaty polka-dot dress that skimmed her curves. The heels and bouncy hair were back, too.
She was the perfect picture of an innocent little schoolteacher—except Cole knew better. Still, for all outward appearances, the tableau was Bambi surrounded by wolves.
“Now that,” Jordan said from behind him, “is a welcome Wednesday night surprise.”
Cole scowled. Not for him, it wasn’t. He moved toward the ropes, pulling at the lacing of one glove with the other. A staff member for the gym came up to the side of the ring to help him.
“Where are you going?” Jordan called.
“Take a breather!”
“I saw her first,” his brother joked, coming up alongside him.
From when they’d hit puberty, the Serenghetti brothers had one rule: whoever saw a woman first got to make a move.
Cole leveled his brother with a withering look as the gym assistant pulled off his gloves. “That is Marisa Danieli.”
Jordan’s eyes widened, and then a slow grin spread across his face. “Wow, she’s changed.”
“Not as much as you think. Hands off.”
“Hey, I’m not the one who needs a warning. Who yanked off his gloves?” Jordan looked over Cole’s shoulder and then raised his eyebrows.
Cole turned. Marisa had pulled the ropes apart and was stepping into the ring, one shapely leg after the other.
“This should be good,” Jordan murmured.
“Shut up.”
Cole pulled off his padded helmet. The front of his sleeveless shirt was damp with perspiration, and his sweatpants hung low on his hips. It was a far cry from the way he looked in meetings these days—where he often wore a jacket and tie.
He handed off his helmet before turning toward the woman who’d crept into his thoughts too often during the past week. Sweeping aside any need for pleasantries, he demanded, “How did you find me?”
Marisa hesitated, looking as if her bravado was leaving her now that she was facing her opponent in the ring. “A tip at the Puck & Shoot.”
Cole figured he shouldn’t be surprised she was a patron of the New England Razors’ hangout. She could scout for her next victim at a sports bar, and it would be easy pickings.
Marisa took a deep breath, and Cole watched her chest rise and fall.
She
