Cole said nothing, but his hand tightened on his beer.
“Sure your parents would love to have you in Welsdale,” she continued. “That’s why they liked that we were a couple. But we both know it was pretend.” Just saying those words made her ill.
Cole’s mouth thinned. “Are you forgetting how we got into a fake relationship?”
Yes, it was her fault. She heated but stood her ground. “And now we’re uncoupled.”
He ga
ve a brief nod. “There’s nothing else to say then. A bargain is a bargain.”
Marisa wanted to say a lot of things. I love you. Don’t leave. Stay with me.
Instead, she nodded in agreement and reached for her handbag beside her. She fumbled for bills to pay her tab.
“Leave it,” Cole said, his voice and face impassive. “I’ve got it.”
She nodded and slid out of the booth without looking at him. “I’ve got to go. I squeezed in a detour to the Puck & Shoot when you texted, but I’ve got papers to grade tonight.”
She would not meet Cole’s gaze. It would be her undoing. “Thanks for the beer.”
She headed toward the door on autopilot. Please don’t let me faint. Please let me survive this.
* * *
The next night Cole found himself at the Puck & Shoot again. Anyone with a morbid sense of humor would say he enjoyed wallowing in misery by returning to the scene of the crime.
He still knew which way was up, but he hoped to correct the situation soon, starting with the drink before him. He’d never been turned this inside out by a breakup with a woman, and it took some getting used to.
On top of it, he was questioning his plans for Serenghetti Construction. If that wasn’t evidence that he needed his head examined, he didn’t know what was. Without his knowing it, the family company had grown on him in a sneaky way. It didn’t seem right to sell it.
He grimaced. He could handle only one breakup at a time.
“What are you doing? Drinking yourself silly?”
Cole turned, surprised at his brother’s voice. “Your powers of observation are impressive, Jordan.”
Cole figured he should have chosen a bar other than the Puck & Shoot if he’d wanted to be left alone. At least Marisa’s cousin Serafina wasn’t working tonight. Unfortunately, however, Jordan had decided to show up for a drink.
“Well? Where’s Marisa?” Jordan looked around the bar. “It’s Saturday night. I thought you two lovebirds were joined at the beak these days.”
“She decided she prefers another guy.”
Jordan raised his eyebrows. “Sal?”
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.”