The Alpha's Second Chance Read online

  What had gone wrong? Did I really mess it up? Or did we just grow apart as so many couples do?

  Our hands brushed briefly, and I felt that same electric heat that had always been there between us. Whatever was the cause of our breakup, it was a shame. Lauren Gordon and I were very, very good together.

  I unfolded my slip of paper and it had hand written purple ink, and the words “I want you to take the lead.”

  Oh, that won’t be a problem, Lauren. Not at all.

  For the next forty minutes, we all sat around and had a lively discussion. Lauren’s instructions to the class were simply to “choose a color.” No other information was given, like what it was to be used for or why. Just “choose a color.” Alex and Kevin Chu were both fighting pretty hard for us to choose the color blue, and Tipper the Senator was campaigning for the color green. David was advocating that we should choose red, and Andrea the golfer would have been okay with either blue or green. Elizabeth said we should choose something fun, like yellow, pink or purple, and no one else agreed with that. Professor Von Estermeyer was just being disagreeable and shot down every idea that he heard.

  After listening to these people argue nonstop for about twenty minutes, with not one of them willing to budge, it became apparent that no decisions were going to get made without any leadership. This must have been what Lauren was telling me to do.

  While it seemed like a harmless, fun activity, people were getting really mad as they defended their positions. What started out as criticisms of a color (“I don’t like the color red,”) quickly turned into personal attacks (“It figures that you wouldn’t want to listen to reason. People without college educations seem to stick to their opinions even in the face of facts.”)

  Lauren was just standing to the side, taking notes.

  I spoke up. “Okay everyone. It seems like we are just arguing around in circles and things are kind of degenerating a bit. We’re all getting a little frustrated, so let’s take a step back.”

  Andrea frowned at me. “Who died and made you king?”

  I grinned and shook my head and said, “No one. But one of the things we do on the team is that when the group is having trouble coming to a decision about which play to run, or what particular defense to use, we talk it out. What do you say we go around the room and each person gets a minute to defend their choice — we’ll set a timer, and then at the end, we can take a vote. The color with the greatest number of votes wins.”

  “That’s not fair, though, since we have two blues already. If everyone chooses their own color, then blue will win.” This was Elizabeth.

  “Can I abstain?” This was Von Estermeyer.

  “No. You cannot abstain, and I'll tell you what. I won’t vote for blue, so that whoever makes the best argument will at least get a tie. Then, Von Estermeyer’s vote might tip it over to the win.”

  He seemed pleased with this, and we went around the room with each person speaking for one minute. In the end, everyone voted for blue except for me and the Senator.

  Once it was finished, Lauren came back to the front of the room and said, “Okay, there is one final step in the exercise. Choose the person in the group who you felt best demonstrated leadership of the process.”

  I had to admit that it felt good when she went around the room and every person voted for me. It was like getting the MVP of the game or something.

  “All right. Let’s talk about what we just experienced. As you can imagine, I told each one of you to try and convince the others to choose a particular color. Or in the case of the professor here, it was to not choose any color.”

  Everyone’s faces lit up with awareness. He wasn’t just being a stubborn dick. He was playing a role.

  “The purpose of this exercise is to show you how behavior changes when a person comes into an interaction with a hidden agenda or bias. If you believe, for example, that you don’t like working with a certain person or that groups of people share common characteristics, it can influence the way both of you behave.”

  I reflected back to my interaction with Toni Falcon. She and I both had agendas and things escalated badly. While my supposed off air comments were not intended to be made public, the fact was that I did see her behavior as being “a bitch,” because of my previous experiences with female reporters. Instead of being triggered because she wanted the color blue, so to speak, I could have just let her have a different opinion and not reacted.

  She wrapped it up by saying, “One other thing was that I told Shawn to take a leadership position. And he did, resulting in you choosing him as the leader. You see, we observe behavior in other people without ever really knowing why someone does what they do. They may have a hidden agenda or bias that’s at the root of their behavior. And so might you.”

  I glanced at Lauren, who was going around the room asking people to share their insights. When I told everyone what I’d just learned, she gave me a big smile and a wink. I flushed a little, feeling like the teacher’s pet.

  The rest of the afternoon flew by, and at the very end of the training, Lauren gave us a homework assignment.

  “I want you to find and interview three people from different phases of your life. One from childhood, one from young adulthood, and one person from your present life and talk to them about what they see as your hidden biases. Doing this can give you a lot of insight into the context that shapes the framework within which you see your life. Then, write your thoughts and reflections up and send me a report within three weeks of the training. Once I get it, I’ll read it, give you feedback and send it back along with your certificate of completion.”

  There were groans from around the room, and people were grumbling about the assignment. I had to agree. The last thing in the world I wanted to do was to take a trip to Pasadena. But that’s where I grew up, and pretty much everyone I knew from childhood and young adulthood was there.

  As we all filed out of the room and people were exchanging phone numbers and email addresses, I felt a little sad that the program was ending. Lauren had stepped out pretty quickly after the session ended, and I hadn’t had a chance to say goodbye. This had been a meaningful experience on many levels, and I was really glad that I’d gone through the training.

  But before I took my newfound wisdom back home, I had some skiing to do.

  “Are you guys athletes?” Two women had been sitting at the end of the bar, staring at Terrance and me for the last twenty minutes. We were pretty used to groupies by now and were ignoring them, which only caused them to escalate the flirting by moving to the two barstools near us.

  We kept ignoring them.

  “So, then he said to me, look, if you don’t want the mustard, don’t eat it. But it was all over the damn thing. I swear, the man must be blind.” He’d been telling me a story about Carl the Hot Dog Guy at the stadium. He was legendary for his antics.

  “Excuse me. Are you guys athletes?”

  I was about to make a snotty comment, like “No, we’re brothers.” I’d have given anything to see the looks on their faces trying to figure out how a very dark skinned African American man and a very pale blond man could be brothers. But, I remembered what I’d learned in training so I just said, “Yes, we are.”

  “Ohhhh. Wow, that’s cool. I could tell because you’re both in such good shape.”

  They were typical ski bunnies--the kind that hang out in expensive resorts hoping to meet a rich husband.

  But then, that was an assumption on my part. Who knows. Maybe they were nice, wholesome Mormon girls.

  “Thank you for noticing. But, my friend and I were in the middle of a conversation, and we’d like to continue it, if you don’t mind.” I signaled to the waitress to buy the women drinks on me, and then I turned back to Terrance.

  He was looking at me with an expression of shock. “Whoa. Who are you and what have you done with Shawn Ryan?”

  I laughed and patted him on the back. “It’s the new and improved me, man.”

  Just then,
though, I saw Lauren walk toward the front doors of the hotel. I wanted a chance to say goodbye before she left, so I said, “Hang on, Terrance. I’ll be right back.”

  I had to squeeze through a throng of Asian tourists who were crossing the lobby with their skis and bags and whatnot. I saw two huge tour buses parked out front, and was trying to get around them so I could get to Lauren before she left. You’d think an NFL quarterback might be able to get around a group of people walking slowly toward me, but there were just too many of them.

  I’d seen her look in the entrance to the bar area as I was talking with Terrance and those women, but she didn’t come inside.

  There were just too many people, and by the time I got out to the valet area, she was nowhere to be found. I’d really wanted to thank her for the training and get her number.

  I did have her office number, though, so as I turned back to walk inside I just figured I’d contact her there.

  12

  Lauren: I’m On The Way

  After the training was over, I had to decide whether or not to stay another night or head back home. It was only a ninety minute drive on a Sunday night, and it was supposed to snow again tomorrow. I really wanted to get to work on time and not have to hassle with weather and traffic on a Monday morning. Not any more than usual, that is. So, I decided to check out and head back.

  Heading up to my room, I knew it wouldn’t take me long to pack. I’d only been here a couple of days and by this time I was a pro packer. I could actually last a week or so on what I could fit in my weekender bag.

  I hesitated for a moment as soon as I walked in the room. It was such a nice room. Maybe I should stay another night?

  No, I really wanted to get back home and start my week off on a good foot. So I grabbed my bag, put my toiletries back in it, and headed back downstairs. As I was headed to the valet area, I debated going into the bar for a glass of celebratory wine.

  I was just so happy about this weekend’s training and how it went. It had been an amazing session, and several of the participants seemed to really have breakthroughs. Especially Shawn. Of course, only time would tell if he and the other people would revert back to their old ways. But in all, it had been what I would consider a success.

  At least I’d thought so, until I took three steps into the bar and saw Shawn there with some guy I thought I recognized from his team and two blonde chicks with cleavage spilling out all over the place.

  My mood instantly transformed from one of happiness and celebration to feeling terrible. So much for Shawn’s big breakthroughs. Here I thought I’d made some progress, when it was evident from his behavior that it all had been lip service.

  And the Academy Award for Best Acting Performance goes to Shawn Ryan.

  I wasn’t about to wait around for him to tell me that “it wasn’t what it looked like” again, so I just turned around and headed out the front door. This whole scene was far too familiar for me, thank you.

  Benny the valet saw me coming, and by the time I made it through the huge group of people getting off those buses, my Jag was waiting for me. I gave him another really big tip and said, “Have a good month, Benny. I want to hear all about your anniversary next time I’m here.”

  “Will do, Lauren. It was nice to see you again.”

  I wasn’t going to lie. I was upset. Here I’d thought that maybe Shawn had changed somehow as a result of the training. And maybe he had. But it literally took him less than an hour to belly up to the bar with a couple of fangirls.

  My mood was dropping faster than the elevation as I came down off the mountain. What was wrong with me? Why was my taste in men so horrible? Was I just being too picky or something? So many other women had no trouble finding a man, getting married, settling down and having kids. Here I was, almost thirty years old and not even dating anyone.

  As if she read my mind, Savannah called at that exact moment. “Hey Roar. How was the training?”

  I was super conflicted, because she was my best friend. I wanted to tell her that I’d seen Shawn again, that the training had been amazing and he looked incredibly hot, that I’d wanted to throw him down right on that weight bench and fuck his brains out; but then I saw him at the bar with those women, and it brought back all of the painful memories from our past and so I left to come home.

  Instead I just said, “I think it went well. How was your weekend preparing for court?”

  “It was productive but I’m feeling stir crazy. Want to get out for a bit. Sounds like you’re still pretty far away, though. I was calling to see if you wanted to meet for Indian food.”

  Indian food sounded great, but it would be too late by the time I got home. “Yeah, I wish, but I won’t be home for another hour or so.”

  “You sound down. Is everything okay?” Best friends can always tell.

  I sighed and said, “I don’t know, Savannah. I just wonder what’s wrong with me. Why can’t I meet a nice guy?”

  My headlights were illuminating the dark road ahead of me and light snow was starting to fall. I was glad I was getting off the mountain tonight. I just wanted to go home.

  “There’s nothing wrong with you, honey. It’s them. It’s hard to meet a decent man in this day and age. It’s all about swiping left or right and hookups.” We were both silent for a moment and then she asked, “What makes you think of this now?”

  “Oh. That date the other day. Stuff like that.” I couldn’t tell her the real story, so I came up with that.

  “Yeah. Well, Roar, you just keep holding your standards high and you’ll meet someone. I mean, look. You had the common sense to dump that Shawn Ryan back in the day. So at least you know what’s NOT good for you, right?”

  Right.

  I didn’t know why, but my place seemed so quiet and empty when I got home. I had a weird, disconcerted feeling, but I just wrote it off to the roller coaster of emotions I’d been feeling since seeing Shawn this weekend.

  Even though all that talk with Savannah about getting a dog was a joke, I kind of wished I could get one. Then I wouldn’t have to come home to emptiness every day. There would be someone to greet me and be happy to see me. Maybe my biological clock was ticking or something. Or maybe I was just tired.

  As soon as I shut the door behind me, I dumped my weekender by the front door and went to go get that glass of wine. Pulling the refrigerator door open, I remembered that my fridge was basically empty except for a couple of slices of American cheese. My stomach was grumbling and so I unwrapped the cheese slices and headed to the couch with my nice, cold wine.. Fake processed cheese and middle of the road wine. Dinner of champions, right?

  I was in the middle of debating having Indian food delivered when my phone rang. It was still in my bag and I raced to the door where I’d left it to to try and get it before it went to voicemail. Unfortunately, I banged my shin on the dining room table on my way. “Ouch!”

  Grabbing the phone, I answered it before looking to see who it was.

  “Lauren! I’m so glad I caught you.” It was my mother.

  “Hey, Mom. I just got back from Breck. What’s up?” She never just called at this time of night.

  “It’s your father. He collapsed this afternoon in the middle of Ikea. The ambulance took him to UCLA Medical Center. I’m here now.” I could hear the sounds of a hospital in the background.

  “Oh my God! Mom! Is he okay?” My heart started pounding and tears sprang to my eyes. Not my dad!

  “They aren’t sure. They’re running all kinds of tests. He’s still in the Emergency Room. Oh, Lauren … What will I do if …”

  “Mom. Listen. Keep it together for a few hours. I’ll be on the first plane I can catch out. Is anyone with you?”

  “I called your sister, but it went to her voicemail. I didn’t want to call anyone else.”

  I hated the idea that she was sitting there alone. “I’ll call Lisa myself. You just hang tight, and I’ll be there as soon as I can. Let me know if you hear any news.”


  “I will.”

  “I love you, Mom.” I couldn’t breathe. How could this even be happening?

  “I love you too, honey.”

  I didn’t even bother to put my wine glass in the sink. I didn’t want to wait for an Uber, I didn’t want to change my clothes. I just grabbed my weekender and headed back out to my car. I’d find a flight on the way to DIA.

  “Hang on, Dad. I’m on the way. Don’t you die on me.”

  13

  Shawn: Coming Home

  The ski conditions were shitty, and Terrance and I decided to head back early on Monday. It was getting to be a little late in the season, and the snow that was once fluffy powder was now hard and icy, on the way to becoming slushy. As professional athletes, we had too much at stake to risk getting injured because the conditions weren’t right and we pushed it.

  “Well. Thanks for coming up, anyway, man.”

  “Thanks for letting me crash on that pullout couch and for the ride to the airport.”

  I’d been able to change my flight to an earlier one, but Terrance was going to stay in Denver for a night and catch a flight out Tuesday.

  “My pleasure. Dinner at Tiny’s next week?” I was looking forward to some of their wings and a cold brew.

  “I thought you had to go to Pasadena.”

  Shit. That’s right. I had to go do that project to finish the training. Maybe I could get out of it? “We’ll see. I’m going to call Pete and see if it’s really necessary, or if this weekend was enough to satisfy the PR people.”

  “Okay. Let me know. But, Shawn?”

  “Yeah?”

  “For what it’s worth, I think you should go. It’s never a bad idea to go visit your parents.”