“Oh no,” Micki muttered.
“Here we go,” Sophie agreed.
Uncle Yank rose from his chair. “The hell you will. You can’t lock me out of my own kitchen.”
Lola gathered her papers and stood, too. “Just watch me, you old coot. Someone has to protect you from yourself.” She straightened her shoulders and strode out of the room.
Yank followed right after her, arguing all the way.
The remaining partners glanced around the room.
Sophie grabbed the forgotten gavel and smacked it against the table. “I move we continue without them.”
“I second,” Annabelle said.
“Third.” Spencer nodded.
Sophie hit the table once more. “Motion passed.” She grinned. She could get used to this little bit of power, she thought, turning the gavel around in her hand.
“Okay, Little Miss Dictator,” Micki said, laughing. “What’s the first order of business?”
Although Sophie normally made notes on what they should cover in their weekly meeting, today Sophie’s pad was empty. Sort of like her life, she thought.
Since coming home from Mississippi, life had been as conspicuously quiet as it had been crazy busy before the trip. Although only three days had passed, she recognized the distinct change. No more break-ins, no sabotage, no problems. Eerie but true, Sophie thought. Meanwhile the police had come up blank on any leads. A niggling fear remained, but Sophie refused to live petrified until the next incident. For all she knew, whoever had started things had decided he had better things to do than harass her.
“We should discuss the draft,” Spencer said into the silence. “On the first day, Yank and I signed Cashman five minutes before the announcements began. Not only is he our client, but he’s signed with the team with the worst record, the San Francisco 49ers.” The team with the worst record always received the first pick in the draft.
Everyone around the table applauded. Although the Heisman winner always went to the most needy team in the league, they’d still accomplished much for their newly signed client.
“Did you have any problems with Miguel Cambias?” Sophie asked.
Spencer shook his head. “As a matter of fact, less than none. Go figure. He was present and active, but he didn’t go near Cashman.”
Sophie bit down on her lower lip. Had she targeted the man unfairly? She’d have to talk to Cindy, but her friend had taken the past few days off, and Sophie hadn’t had a chance to apologize again or see what her talk with Miguel had accomplished.
“Anything else on the agenda?” Micki asked.
They discussed the various open client files and agreed to wrap things up until next week. Then the partners headed back to their own offices.
Sophie didn’t stop to talk to Spencer alone because she was certain he had no desire to discuss Riley with her any more than she wanted to talk about Riley with him.
R
ILEY OPENED
the pizza box so he and Lizzie could dig in. They each pulled out a slice of pepperoni pizza, took their cans of Coke and headed for his den with the big-screen TV. One of the perks of coming to Dad’s was that he let Lizzie eat dinner in front of the television. It was their guilty secret and, even with his new determination to be a real father and lay down rules, he wasn’t about to deny her this treat.
“So how’s school?” Riley asked.
She shrugged. “Mr. Gordon hates me.”
“Science, right?”
She nodded.
“How could anyone hate you?” he asked, looking proudly at his smart, gorgeous daughter and trying to suppress a grin.
She stuffed her mouth full with pizza, then said, “I studied all night and he gave me a seventy-four! Can you believe that?”
Riley raised an eyebrow. “Define all night. Was that all night in between your shower, blow-drying your hair, straightening your hair, talking on the phone and IMing your friends?”
A guilty flush stained her cheeks.
He didn’t envy his ex-wife her full-time job of keeping their child in line. “Sounds to me like you earned that seventy-four and Mr. Gordon doesn’t hate you as much as he’s giving you what you deserve.”
She frowned, then picked up the television remote and began channel surfing in reply.
Riley noted that in the few hours they’d been together, she hadn’t mentioned Sophie at all. Knowing Lizzie, it wasn’t so much out of sight out of mind as it was her wanting to pretend Sophie didn’t exist.
Riley wished he could do the same, but the golden-haired beauty was ever present in his mind. Typically he was a man of action, yet all he could do was hope that she missed him enough to get past her insecurities and hang-ups and give them a chance at a future.
Damian Fuller had had a point and Riley knew three days hadn’t been nearly enough time for her to come to any realizations. He’d just have to sit tight and wait. However, patience wasn’t his strong suit.
“Hey, Dad, look!” Lizzie gestured at the big screen. “Isn’t that your agent?”
Lizzie had met Yank quite a few times over the years. But she wasn’t a fan of sports TV, and when he glanced up, he realized she was watching the local cable entertainment channel. Yank Morgan was being interviewed by the sports-gossip reporter, inset on the screen were photographs of Riley and Sophie, labeled with their names.
“What’s
she
doing up there?” Lizzie asked in her snottiest voice.
Riley closed his eyes and groaned. He didn’t have an answer but whatever it was, it couldn’t be good. “Make it louder.”
Lizzie raised the volume.
“Mr. Morgan, just to remind our viewers, you’re considered the sports agent to the stars. You requested this interview, so let’s talk about what’s on your mind.” The brunette leaned forward, her eyes eager and interested.
“As everyone knows, I went on TV a few weeks ago and splashed my niece’s picture all over the news, tellin’ people she’s single and in need of a good man.”
“I remember that,” the woman said, laughing.
A damn good picture of Sophie, if Riley did say so himself. A little formal for his taste, since she wore her hair pinned back and a prissy, yellow sleeveless dress with a conservative houndstooth design. He preferred her naked and disheveled on his bed.
Shifting uncomfortably in his seat, he glanced at his daughter, then looked back at the television.
“I’m here to issue a refraction of that story. I was wrong.”
The reporter smiled. “You mean a retraction.”
“That’s what I said. My Sophie is not in need of a man, so you guys out there can stop sending her flowers and plants and chocolates and things to the office.” He slashed his hand through the air.
Riley agreed with that particular sentiment. The only man Sophie needed was
him
and if Yank saw fit to call off the rest of the testosterone-filled population, Riley was all for it.
“To what do we owe your change of heart?” the interviewer asked.
Yank grinned—a smile that Riley had seen before when Yank was ready to use his trump card and close a big deal.
Lizzie remained silent, watching intently.
“Well, it turns out my niece was holdin’ out on me. While I was worried about her future, she was in good hands the whole time.”
The woman smoothed her skirt. “You mean she’s involved with a man?”
“If you call two recent trips outta town together involved, then, yeah, she’s involved,” Yank said, laughing. “First Florida, then Mississippi. Yep, she’s
involved.
”
Riley’s stomach clenched and he could swear he felt Lizzie stiffen beside him.
“Who’s the lucky man?”
“Football star Riley Nash, of course. Who else would she go to Mississippi with?” Yank asked, as if the question were a no-brainer.
“Dad!” Lizzie yelled, and jumped up from her seat, a horrified expression on her face.
He drew in a deep breath. Riley was used to being a media focus, mostly for football, occasionally for off-season entanglements, but until now his celebrity like status had never affected his daughter in such a direct way.
Riley pressed the mute button of the remote control and turned to her. “Lizzie, I’ve always told you that you can’t let what you see on television affect how you think about people or even life. Reporters and interviewers want to get ratings or sell papers. They’ll invade a person’s private life to do it. It isn’t right, but it happens,” he said, opting to stay rational in light of her hysteria.
“But that’s your agent and he’s on TV saying you’re involved with that woman. And it’s true, right? I mean she was at Grandma’s with us, right?”
“That part is true,” he agreed.
“Have you seen her since?” Lizzie asked.
“No.” At least he could answer that honestly.
Lizzie met his gaze, her panic and distress palpable. “But you want to, right?”
Riley sighed. He might as well lay it on the line right now, even if it meant dealing with more of his daughter’s drama. “Sit, okay?”
Reluctantly, she lowered herself into a chair.
Riley leaned forward, choosing his words carefully. “Your mother married Ted, right?”
His daughter nodded.
“Does that mean she loves you any less? That you’re any less important to her?”
She shook her head, her eyes round and huge. “Are you saying you’re gonna
marry
Sophie?”
Though he’d set himself up, the question still caught him off guard. As he sometimes did in a big game, Riley decided to wing it. He’d talk to Lizzie as the words came to him and hope for the best.
“When your mom and I divorced, I never thought I’d get married again. We loved each other, but we couldn’t get along well enough to make it work. I didn’t want to go through it again.” She was too young to understand lust not real love, and she deserved to believe he’d loved her mother. He had, in a young sort of way.
Lizzie sniffed. “That’s not an answer.”
“Eventually, if Sophie agrees, yes, I’d want to marry her,” he said slowly, realizing he was speaking from the heart. “But you will always be my number-one girl and anybody I marry would know that. Sophie already knows that, honey. You just need to give her a chance.”
Lizzie glanced at him, her lashes damp, her eyes shimmering with tears, and his gut cramped painfully. This was the little girl who always looked at him with love and adoration in her eyes. He’d promised himself he’d never disappoint her, yet here he was, doing just that. He’d never felt lower and yet he’d never been more sure that he was doing the right thing for them both.
“She’ll never be my mom.” Defiance tinged Lizzie’s tone.
Riley gave her a grim smile. “She’ll never try to be. Assuming things work out the way I’d want them to, she’d be just like Ted is for you—someone you can trust with anything you need.” That was how much faith he had in Sophie.
“This sucks,” Lizzie said, and crossed her arms over her chest in that obstinate way of hers.
Riley chuckled. “All things considered, I’ll let you get away with that.”
His nerves were on edge, his emotions frazzled from dealing with Lizzie and from realizing how he really felt about marrying Sophie. Despite how often he thought about her, he’d never followed the notion to its logical conclusion.
Now that he had, he was overwhelmed with a sense of rightness. “Sometimes,” he said to his still-upset daughter, “a person realizes he needs more to be happy. And to be a good father to you, I need to be happy.” And Sophie, with her big smile and bigger heart, her neuroses and need for order, made him happy.
Who would have thought it?
Lizzie swallowed hard. “I still don’t like it.”
“You’ll learn to like it,” he said, laughing.
Whether or not Sophie came around to his way of thinking was another story. But thanks to Yank’s ridiculous impulses, Riley had a chance to get his daughter to understand what Riley needed.
He was willing to give his daughter time to get used to the idea, but he wasn’t willing to give up Sophie while Lizzie mulled it over.
S
OPHIE MET UP
with Cindy at Cake ’n’ Bake, a little hole-in-the-wall bakery in SoHo. Together they were going to buy the pièce de résistance of Lola and Yank’s party, a cake to end all cakes and a surprise for Uncle Yank and Lola. The only catch for Sophie was that she hadn’t seen Cindy since their confrontation over Miguel Cambias. Still, Sophie took Cindy’s willingness to meet her today as a good sign. Otherwise she’d have to wait until Monday of next week, when her friend returned to work, to see if Cindy had forgiven Sophie.
She waited for Cindy on the sidewalk. A beautiful April day, the wind blew with a definite hint of spring. Sophie wanted to enjoy the beginning of the season, but she was preoccupied with too many things, like the possibility of losing a friendship and a top-notch publicist. Then there was her unresolved situation with Riley.
“Sophie? I’m sorry I’m late. I just had to stop at the dry cleaners on the way over.” Cindy ran up to her and screeched to a halt.
“I’m sorry,” Sophie said, wanting to get the heart-felt apology out immediately. “I’m sorry you overheard what I said about Miguel and I’m sorry I said it. But things were in complete chaos and somebody had to be responsible and—”
“It’s okay.” Cindy met her gaze, only compassion evident in her eyes. “I understand why you’d think he had something to do with the crazy things happening around the office. I thought so myself. That’s why I took my anger out on you.”
“You thought Miguel was guilty?” Sophie asked, surprised.
Cindy swallowed hard. “It crossed my mind. I thought about the sudden attention, the constant e-mails. I wondered. But when I asked him about it…”
“What’d he say?” Sophie asked.
“Basically that either I trusted him or I didn’t.” She bit down on her trembling lower lip.
Sophie stepped closer to her friend. “And?”
“And I walked out on him.” Cindy exhaled long and hard. “I took the elevator down to the ground floor and I walked the streets of Harlem. Then I realized either I was sleeping with a man I believe in or I wasn’t.”
Sophie listened, her heart in her throat. She felt as if she were sitting on the edge of her seat, rooting for Cindy and Miguel. “So what did you do?”
“I turned and ran all the way back to his building, up the stairs and back to his office.” A blush stained Cindy’s cheeks, evidence of her overwhelming emotions for this man. “I told him I had faith.” She shrugged. “It’s not like the tech guys were able to track anything back to him.”
“That’s true,” Sophie said.
“And we’ve been together ever since—every night as a matter of fact,” Cindy said, smiling.
Sophie pulled Cindy into a tight hug, glad Cindy had found happiness, and relieved that she and her friend had put their differences behind them. “I’m so happy for you.” She stepped back and smiled.
But what lingered in Sophie’s mind was that she envied her friend’s ability to throw caution away and have complete faith in someone she cared for. Just because their tech people couldn’t pin the computer virus on Cambias’s e-mails didn’t mean they’d exonerated him. Yet Cindy was able to give Miguel the benefit of the doubt.
Sophie hadn’t even begun to trust in Riley. But she and Riley had a lot of strikes against them. Sophie had lost her parents and learned the benefits of controlling the things and people around her, while Riley was his own person and did his own thing. That was strike one. He’d turned on her once before in defense of his relationship with Lizzie. Strike two. And as attentive as he could be at times, she couldn’t forget how much he loved to flirt with all women; she couldn’t guarantee he’d be around beyond the next date. Strike three.
Three strikes and they were out. Game over.
“Sophie?”
“Hmm.” Sophie shook her head hard. “Sorry, we can go inside.”
Cindy stopped her with a hand on Sophie’s arm. “In a minute. I have a question.” She stepped closer. “Did I ever tell you that my father was killed before I moved to New York?”
Sophie’s throat swelled with emotion. “I had no idea.” But she could only imagine the pain her friend had suffered. Was still suffering. “What happened?”
Cindy drew a deep breath. “An employee he trusted broke in after hours and stole money from the register. He set fire to the place to cover his tracks. My father tried to put it out before the firefighters arrived…” She waved her hand, obviously unable to continue.
Sophie grabbed her friend’s hand, squeezing it tight. “I wish I’d known before now. Friends should share these things with each other.”
Cindy nodded in agreement. “It’s not so easy to talk about. But now you know. Just like I know about your parents, and that they’re the reason you can’t bring yourself to trust that Riley isn’t going anywhere. You’d rather push him away before he leaves you like your parents did.”
The words, uncomfortably accurate, stung Sophie’s already raw emotions. “That’s ridiculous. Riley’s not going to die on me. God willing,” she felt compelled to add.
“But you’re afraid he’s going to get bored, or fall out of love or just plain leave you,” Cindy said pointedly.
“Nobody said anything about
love.
” There was a lot in Cindy’s conclusion to address, but Sophie chose the most obvious, and the scariest, part of her friend’s speech.
Cindy sighed, then linked her arm through Sophie’s. “I’ve given you enough to think about for now. Let’s go cake shopping,” she said, and led Sophie into the shop.
Grateful for the distraction, Sophie lost herself in the gorgeous confections. Cakes in all shapes, from cupcakes to designer purses, caught her eye.
Sophie strode to the woman behind the counter. “I have an appointment with Genevieve.”
A young woman wearing a white apron smiled. “That’s me.” She held out her hand. “I’m Gen, the owner.”
“I’m Sophie—” she shook the other woman’s hand “—and this is my friend and coworker, Cindy James. I’m looking for a unique cake for a unique couple,” she explained.
“I just bet you are.” Gen glanced at Sophie and winked, as if she were privy to some secret.
Sophie narrowed her gaze. “My uncle and his wife eloped and they never had a wedding reception, so we want this party to be extra special.”
Gen leaned forward on her elbows. “Oh, come on. I saw the interview with your uncle. You’re marrying Riley Nash, aren’t you? You can tell me. Anything you say will be kept strictly confidential.”
Behind her, Cindy chuckled.
Sophie rolled her eyes. She was appalled that her uncle had publicly linked her with Riley at a time when she desperately needed distance. She also felt guilty.
Although she was more than used to her uncle’s shenanigans, Riley was not. He didn’t deserve the unwanted publicity or the crimp this could put in his social life. She ignored the slicing pain in her heart at the thought of him with another woman and concentrated instead on what was fair and right. No matter how good her uncle’s intentions, no matter how noble his motives, he stirred up trouble and someone other than him usually took the brunt of the fallout. Riley didn’t need the upheaval in his life. Sophie had left a message on his cell phone, calling to apologize.
“I’d like a cake in the shape of two hearts,” she told the woman.
Gen took notes. “Pink hard coating?” she asked.
Imagining the look on her uncle’s face when he saw the girly cake, Sophie nodded. “Bright pink.”
“Wording?” Gen asked, glancing at Cindy.
Obviously the other woman thought Sophie shouldn’t choose the wording on her own cake.
Sophie gritted her teeth.
“How about
It took you long enough?
” Cindy suggested lightly.
Sophie grinned. “Two hearts as one,” she said, the words suddenly coming to her.
No matter how often they bickered, no two people loved each other more and no two people deserved each other quite as much as Uncle Yank and Lola. As Cindy rightly said, they’d waited for this happiness long enough.
Gen wrote up the order and tallied the bill. Sophie paid with her credit card. “Thanks for everything,” she said to Gen.
“My pleasure. It will be delivered as promised on Saturday evening.” The other woman smiled. “So this is really a wedding cake for you, isn’t it?” she asked, trying again for inside information that didn’t exist.
Sophie gave up. Ever since her uncle’s retraction, everywhere she went, people asked when she was getting married. They complimented her on snagging such a hot bachelor, and they all refused to believe the truth: that she and Riley were not a couple.
In time, everyone would see it was true.
L
IFTING WEIGHTS
was Riley’s way of blowing off steam. That he needed to stay in shape during the off season was an added bonus. Right now he had to vent angry, frustrated energy or else he’d explode, he thought as he tied his sneaker laces, ready for a workout.
“Sophie called you to apologize?” Mike asked from his seat on the bench in the locker room.
Riley nodded. “For her uncle publicly linking us together. For the fact that—and I’m quoting here—her uncle’s display must be cramping my fucking social life.” Riley kicked at the floor.
“You added the word
fucking,
” Mike said.
Riley nodded. “Sophie Jordan wouldn’t curse like that, especially not when leaving a message. Just like Sophie Jordan wouldn’t step out of her comfortable controlled world to take a chance on what might be the greatest thing that ever happened to her.” His voice rose to a fevered pitch. “That being me,” Riley said, in case Mike wasn’t paying attention.
His teammates in the locker room turned and stared.
“Man, you’ve got it bad. Does she know?” Mike asked.
“Are you kidding?”
Already finished with his workout, Mike rose and began stripping down for a shower. “Hell no, I’m not kidding. Does Sophie know you’re in love with her? Did you ever tell her?”
Riley paused. Had he? Had he ever said the words aloud? Or had he turned on the charm and hoped she’d figure out what he was trying to convey? Just as he’d hoped she’d know that the other women he’d flirted with before meant nothing to him while she was the real deal.
“I’ve been treating her like she was a mind reader,” Riley muttered.
Mike grinned. “I’m loving this. The ladies’ man needs help.” He let out a whoop of laughter.
“I’m so glad you find my life amusing.”
Mike wrapped a towel around his waist and started for the showers. He took three steps and turned. “Did I help get your head on straight?”
Riley nodded.
“Glad to help.” Still grinning, Mike walked away.
Riley leaned against his locker, preoccupied with thoughts of all he hadn’t said and done for Sophie. Something he had to rectify immediately.
To hell with his workout. Riley dressed and was out the door in record time. Unfortunately, the reporters knew his daily routine and accosted him outside on the sidewalk. It was early in the off season for the press to be hounding him, but not unusual for them to cluster where the team worked out.
“Hey,” Riley said, pausing for a minute. “Any chance I can catch up with you all later?” he asked in his most affable tone.
“Are you off to see your fiancée?” one of the reporters asked.
Riley laughed. “Real life’s so boring you guys need to make up stories?”
“Didn’t Yank Morgan say you’re involved with his niece?”
“I don’t recall him defining that involvement.” Riley began to push through them so he could search for a cab on the street.
Another reporter tapped him on the shoulder.
Riley turned. “How about we schedule an interview?” he asked, anxious to see Sophie face-to-face.
A redheaded woman he recognized from eSports Network suddenly appeared in the crowd. “Since you don’t want to talk about your social life, would you be willing to discuss your real father instead?”
Riley froze. “What did you just say?”
The woman, whose name was Veronica, shoved a microphone in front of his face in search of the elusive sound bite. “I asked if you’d sit down with me to talk about your biological father. Spencer Atkins
is
your father, isn’t he?”
“Where’d you hear that?” Forcing air into his tight lungs, Riley treated her to his best grin under the circumstances.
“Are you denying it?” she asked.
“I’m questioning your source.” Because he couldn’t for the life of him imagine how the truth had leaked out.
Whereas normally the reporters shouted out questions, vying for supremacy, the redhead had stunned her fellow reporters into silence. Apparently she had a scoop and he’d bet the revelation had already hit the news on her station.
She cleared her throat. “You know I can’t reveal a source. Besides you’re the one in the hot seat, Mr. Nash.”
Riley’s throat burned with pure anger at whoever had violated him and his family this way. “No comment.” He stormed through the reporters and hailed a cab.
A yellow taxi approached quickly and he jumped inside. But instead of Sophie’s address, Riley headed to his apartment in order to call his parents in private. Damage control had to come before his love life.
R
ILEY DIDN
’
T HAVE
to call home. As soon as he stepped into the hallway and neared his apartment, he heard his phone ringing. He unlocked the door and ran inside, grabbing the portable receiver right before the answering machine picked up.
“Hello?” he asked breathlessly.
A quick glance at the machine told him he already had five messages. Definitely not a good sign, he thought.
“Riley? It’s Dad.” His stepfather’s voice traveled through the phone lines, barely containing frustration already evident in his tone.
“You heard?”
“Everyone has heard. The question for me is exactly how such a thing got out.”
Riley heard the familiar sound of grinding teeth, a habit Harlan had never broken in stressful situations. In his chosen profession, he had many of those.
“I was mobbed leaving the gym,” Riley said. “Damn reporter took me off guard. I never saw it coming.” He took a deep breath. “How’s Mom?”
Harlan let out a prolonged sigh. “As well as can be expected. Her friends here didn’t realize she’d been married once before. We didn’t hide the fact—it had just never come up. And since we wanted Spencer’s name buried, it seemed prudent to just look forward, if that makes sense.”