CHAPTER EIGHT
On the plane ride home, Micki feigned sleep because it was easier than making small talk while looking at Damian’s handsome face. They’d had their fling and it had been more than she’d ever dreamed of.
Yet it was time she faced a few harsh realities. Yes, she and Damian had shared some amazing, special, magical moments. Intimate moments, and not all of them sexual, she thought, recalling their time on his baseball field. Yet obviously nothing he’d experienced with Micki had distinguished her from any of the other women in his life. Otherwise they wouldn’t be on the verge of saying goodbye, she thought as Damian walked her to the limo she’d arranged to pick her up from the airport. She didn’t want him to feel responsible for her for a second longer than necessary.
The truth hurt because despite knowing the score going in, she’d hoped for more from Damian. She wasn’t going to get it. Time to move on with some great memories and enough of a confidence boost to send her into the dating world with a new look, new image and new attitude. And maybe she had some swampland she could sell herself and call it paradise.
Standing by her car, Micki turned to Damian. The least she could do was hold her head high while she proved to him she’d meant it when she’d said all she wanted was a short affair and she was enough of a grown-up to walk away with her pride intact.
Damian met her gaze, a serious expression on his face. “Micki—”
She shook her head. She didn’t want to hear him belittle their time together. It was a turning point in her life and she’d never regret it.
“Thanks for kidnapping me.” She didn’t have to force a smile. Around Damian, it came easily.
“My pleasure.” His voice held a sincerity that took her off guard.
“Don’t be too hard on Carter,” Micki said, covering a subject she knew was important. “He’s young and stupid. He’ll defeat himself. People like him always do.”
Admiration filled his gaze. “You’re smart.”
“Yeah, well, it doesn’t mean I won’t kick his ass first chance I get,” she said, laughing. “I just don’t need you to do it for me.”
“And you’re a tough lady, too.”
She swallowed hard. “Sometimes I have to be.” She placed a hand on top of the open car door, ready to escape inside.
He held her gaze as if willing her not to go.
“When can you play?” she asked although they’d discussed it already.
His expression tightened, his jaw clenched. “Another nine or ten days.”
“Don’t push it and try to be a hero,” she warned him. “Ten days isn’t so bad.”
He leaned closer. “Between us?”
She nodded.
“It’s that bad.”
Micki understood he wasn’t just talking about the ten more days on the DL. His career was near the end and he was trusting her with that information. She’d never felt more connected to another human being, but there was little she could offer that he’d accept.
“If you ever need me—you know, to help you spin a situation or just to vent—you know where to find me.” It was the best she could do.
A sad smile took hold of his lips. “You’re special, Micki.”
“Oh, please.”
“Stop doing that.” He’d reached out and placed a finger over her lips. “Stop questioning yourself and how people look at you.”
She shook her head. “That’s not what I’m doing.”
“That’s exactly what you’re doing.”
“I am,” she agreed, laughing. Why was it this man, who wanted to give and receive nothing, was the one who understood her so well?
“Well, next time you get the urge to fight a compliment, remember our weekend together, will you?”
She had a hunch she’d be remembering him a lot sooner and more often than that.
He reached out and hooked his hand around the back of her neck, pulled her close and sealed their lips in a kiss. One that was too fast and too brief—all too reminiscent of their time together.
“I’ll do that.” Micki forced a nod. She turned away before he could read the emotion on her face and slipped into the back of the car.
He shut the door for her and waved. “Take care.” She was able to read his parting words on his lips.
Once again, she couldn’t help but smile.
* * *
An hour after leaving Damian, Micki reached her apartment. She showered, changed and, since Sophie wasn’t in her place across the hall, Micki took a cab over to Uncle Yank’s. The doorman let her in and the elevator carried her to his penthouse apartment.
She rang the bell and a set of chimes went off that were so loud they scared her to death and had her heart racing like mad. His dog, Noodle, a Labradoodle he’d purchased because of the breed’s intelligence and training in helping the blind, began a high-pitched bark that would wake the dead. A normal person would have bought a trained Lab, but not her uncle.
Without warning, the door from the apartment across the hall swung open wide and an old woman in a brightly colored, decades-old sweatsuit strode outside, hands on her frail hips. “You tell that old man to muzzle the mutt and put a normal doorbell back on or I’m reporting him to the condo board, and don’t think I won’t.” She patted her set hair and slammed the door shut behind her.
“And a good evening to you, Mrs. Murdoch,” Micki called to her uncle’s neighbor who’d lived there for years and was as likely to report her uncle as Micki was.
The same door swung open wide again. “He was much more reasonable when Lola came around,” Mrs. Murdoch said.
“We all agree with you.” Micki smiled at the older woman and eyed her uncle’s closed door. He knew she was coming, so where was he?
“Well either he gets laid or he moves out. I’m not sure I can take much more of his obnoxious behavior. You tell him I said so, you hear?”
Micki wondered if the older woman was actually offering her services and bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. “Oh, I’ll tell him all right.”
“Got to go. Jeopardy!’s on.” Mrs. Murdoch slammed the door shut again.
Micki raised her hand to knock this time, when her uncle opened the door. “Sorry. I was in the john.”
She rolled her eyes. “Too much information,” she said, greeting him with a kiss.
“I can’t believe you’re back already. Is Damian that much of a dud?”
She raised an eyebrow, staring at her uncle. “You sent me off with him hoping we’d hook up?”
“Damn straight. So did you?”
Micki stepped around Yank and into his large apartment. They’d always been close and she didn’t see any point in hiding the truth from him now. “Whatever we had was temporary and now it’s over. So how did your doctor’s appointment go?”
“Nothing’s changed, nothing will. Are you telling me Fuller screwed you and took off?” Her uncle squared his shoulders, ready to fight on her behalf.
She shook her head. “Damian’s a lot better than that and you know it or you wouldn’t have sent me off to be alone with him.”
“I—”
“You’re caught red-handed. Now I’m going to forgive you for disregarding my feelings because I love you. And I’ll tell you what you need to know about Damian. He’s not capable of putting anyone or anything above the game, at least not at this point in his life, and he was honest about that. Okay? And now that I’ve bared my soul, I need you to do the same.” She hugged him tight. “Are you saying the specialist couldn’t help you?”
“It’s a degenerative disease. My stage isn’t early enough to change things and don’t go yelling at me that I should’ve gone to him sooner because your sister already yelled enough for all three of you.”
Micki swallowed hard. Twice in two days. Twice she had to face men she cared about and not show any pity no matter how much she wanted to. Damn men and their pride, she thought, taking a minute to compose herself before stepping back and facing her uncle.
“Well, you’ll just have to carry on as you taught us to once we realized Mom and Dad weren’t coming back, won’t you?”
As if she understood, Noodle barked in agreement.
“You see? With Noodle by your side, you won’t have any problems.” Micki would see to it.
Her uncle grabbed her in a bear hug that expressed everything he couldn’t say.
When they finally broke apart, she smiled at him. “So, what can I make you for dinner?”
* * *
All three Jordan sisters and Lola met at Annabelle’s home in Greenlawn. They all sat surrounding Annie, who remained with her feet up on the couch, surrounded by her pets and plants. Some things never changed, Micki thought, and a warm feeling filled her chest.
They’d chosen the location because it gave them privacy from Yank’s prying and allowed Annabelle to remain off her feet as per doctor’s orders. It had been a while since they’d all been together this way and they talked to each other, over each other and across one another. A true girls’ meeting. Getting together with them reminded Micki of how much she’d missed their bonding time.
Annie clapped her hands, demanding their attention. “As much as we need to catch up, we’re here for a reason.”
They all nodded.
“I’ve tried to keep everyone up to date on Uncle Yank’s condition. Does everyone understand the details?” Sophie, the sister who’d taken charge of the doctors and of the gruff man himself, asked.
“I’m confused,” Micki admitted. “He lies and fudges the truth. One day he says he’s fine and the next day he’s wearing that talking clock like he can’t read the dial on his wristwatch. I’d like an explanation I can understand.”
“As you know, Uncle Yank has the wet form of macular degeneration,” Sophie said. “Statistically, wet is less common than the dry form and accounts for ninety percent of all cases of legal blindness in people with the disease. It isn’t curable, and since Uncle Yank ignored symptoms for quite a while, the disease has progressed too much for any of the newer treatments.”
“What exactly can he see or not see?” Annabelle asked.
Obviously Micki wasn’t the only one who didn’t understand their uncle’s condition.
“It’s hard to say. Maybe the explanation of what the disease involves will help.”
This was Sophie in her element, Micki thought fondly.
“In clinical terms, macular degeneration is a physical disturbance in the center of the retina, which is called the macula.” Sophie gestured as she spoke, pointing to her own eyes as an example. “The macula makes us capable of our most detailed vision—reading, driving, recognizing faces, watching TV, etc.”
“Wow,” Micki said aloud. Her throat grew tight at the thought of her independent uncle being deprived of the most basic tasks most people took for granted.
Since Uncle Yank had ignored his problems over the past year, Micki had as well. It was easier to push the truth away when not faced with it directly, but the time had come to cope head-on with all the repercussions.
Over the past few days, she and her sisters had spoken and agreed on a course of action. They just needed to bring Lola on board. The other woman was key as she had the ability to sway the important parties to their plan.
“I thought, or rather, I hoped that the specialist would tell him that surgery to remove scarring was an option to improve vision, but the disease progressed too far.” Sophie’s voice dropped low. “It’s not going to get any better. It’s going to get worse.”
They all understood the implications.
Annabelle rubbed the slight bulge in her belly and sighed. “Can we suggest he move to some place with assisted living before it progresses to the point where he can’t see at all?”
Micki shook her head, shuddering at the thought of their uncle’s reaction. “Not if we want to live to tell the tale. That’s a point he’ll have to reach on his own.”
“But the business affects us all, which is why I suggested we meet here to talk.” Sophie’s gaze swept over the group. “We need to think about the future today.”
All three sisters turned to Lola.
“I am not coming back to work for him.” Lola folded her arms across her silk blouse.
Though her outfit and overall look was still on the conservative side, she’d made many changes since leaving Uncle Yank’s employ. Some of the alterations had been done in the hopes of enticing Yank to notice her before she left and those Lola had ditched fast, like too-youthful clothes. Other parts of her transformation remained, like her hair. She’d always kept the color a natural brown and the style pulled back into a bun. These days she had golden highlights and a chic shoulder-length bob that accentuated her graceful features. These days she not only worked for Spencer Atkins, she dated him as well. Together they attended industry events and were seen at the chicest restaurants.
Her uncle was a stubborn old coot, Micki thought in frustration. He needed this woman now more than ever before.
All three sisters understood how hard it had been for Lola to leave Yank, and none of them would be angry at her for refusing to come back. After thirty or more years with their stubborn uncle, nobody considered Lola selfish. In fact there was nobody more loving. The time had come when she’d needed some of that emotion returned.
“Nobody wants you to compromise the stand you’ve taken,” Annabelle assured Lola. “But when he was first diagnosed, you mentioned a potential merger with Atkins Associates, remember?”
Lola winced.
Micki figured she’d probably recalled Uncle Yank’s reaction to that suggestion.
“Why do you ask?” Lola’s gaze narrowed.
Shifting positions on the couch, Annabelle sat up straighter as she explained. “Because the three of us have talked and we think that over time, a merger is the only way to save the sports agency part of the Hot Zone.”
“And Uncle Yank’s illness isn’t the only reason,” Micki said. “Let’s face it. The newer agencies with their hotshot agents are snatching up the young athletes interested in money more than loyalty. Uncle Yank needs backup, and over time so will Spencer. A merger can benefit both agencies.”
Sophie nodded in agreement. “Think about it. Uncle Yank brings young, raw talent with him in his other agents, but he’s the big name. Same with Spencer. They’re both too stubborn to realize they need successors. We could convince them that together they could be a powerhouse.”
“A lasting powerhouse with a legacy after they’re gone. Umm…I mean retire.” Micki swallowed hard.
“So what do you think?” Sophie asked.
Lola rubbed her eyes and sighed. “I love you girls. I would do anything for you. Same for the business.”
“And for Uncle Yank?” Annabelle asked, too sweetly, her intentions obvious.
Lola strode over and squeezed Annabelle’s cheeks. “Sorry, honey, but you won’t get me to pour my heart out. I’m over him.”
“You taught us not to fib,” Sophie chided.
“So, who’s ready for lunch? I brought us all Squagels from Cozy’s,” she said of the coffee shop located downstairs from the Hot Zone, specializing in salads and square bagels.
Annabelle sighed. “Mmmm. You are the best,” she told Lola.
“But we still noticed that you changed the subject,” Micki said.
Micki’s stomach growled loudly and Lola teased, “Your stomach’s on my side.”
Micki laughed.
“I’ll talk to Spencer. If he’s still interested in a merger, we’ll figure out a way to approach Yank,” Lola promised, her voice somber. “He’s away on business, so it might be a while, though.”
Micki paused. Now that she’d loved and lost Damian—in a manner of speaking—she felt an empathy with Lola she’d never had before. She couldn’t imagine spending a lifetime side by side with a man who didn’t return her feelings. Micki and her sisters were now asking Lola to come back into a situation from which she’d finally garnered the guts to escape.
She placed a hand on Lola’s shoulder. “I understand all the reasons you don’t want this merger to happen. We were selfish even to ask you to make such a sacrifice.” She looked around at her sisters. “Maybe we should find another option.”
Lola gave Micki a look of gratitude, and for the first time, Micki felt on more equal footing with the woman she’d always admired.
Silence followed and then Annabelle spoke. “Micki’s right. We were so wrapped up with what to do about the agency we forgot to consider your feelings.”
Sophie nodded. “We’ve been thoughtless. And you raised us so much better than that.”
Lola paced back and forth across the room, stopping directly in front of where Annabelle lay on the couch. “Come here. All of you.”
Micki and Sophie stepped closer.
“You’ve grown into such beautiful, smart, caring women. I’m so lucky to have had you in my life. You’re the children I never had and I love you.” She paused and Micki sensed she was holding back tears. “It’s because I love you that I’m going to talk to Spencer.”
“But—”
“I’m a big girl, Sophie,” Lola said, cutting her off.
“If the merger happens I can still work for Spencer and not your uncle. I can retire if I want to. Don’t worry about me, okay? Okay.” She clapped her hands in front of her, a sure indication her decision wasn’t open to argument.
Micki nodded slowly, accepting Lola’s choice. “Just know we appreciate you backing us,” she said and gave the woman a huge hug. “Now we need a deadline or we’ll put off approaching those two men forever.”
Lola nodded. “I can’t say you’re wrong about that.”
“How about by Uncle Yank’s annual birthday bash?” Sophie suggested. “By then we need to have spoken with them and coerced them into going along. Agreed?”
“Agreed,” each of them murmured, leaving them with the knowledge that Uncle Yank’s illness would forever alter all their lives.
Micki wondered how many more changes were in store.
* * *
Yank sat at his big oak desk and glanced at the photos on the corner. He couldn’t see them well, but he’d memorized their feel and order. He picked up the one with the rounded edges and ran his hand over the glass, behind which lay a photo of Micki as a child.
Though he’d deny it aloud, he had a special place in his heart for the little one, as he liked to call Micki. How could he not? From the day the girls had come to live under his roof, she’d latched on to him like Noodle, who now lay under his desk. And Micki had never let go.
Unlike Annie, who’d been older and aware enough to be scared and wary of her single uncle, Micki had immediately decided to love him and copy everything he did. From his weekly poker games, to visiting his clients on the road and in their locker rooms, Micki had insisted on trailing along.
At first, he hadn’t known what to do with her, but he’d soon realized she was a joy to have around, even if he did have to learn to watch his mouth. Otherwise, the school teachers called with complaints about her new vocabulary. The memory made him laugh.
So he blamed himself now that Damian hadn’t come around as he’d hoped. Misplaced faith was a bitch, Yank thought. He’d mistakenly believed that if Damian spent time with Micki, he’d realize all that was absent in his life.
Just like you realize all you’re missing? Lola’s voice rose in his head once more.
Yank scowled. “Difference is even if I know what I’m missing, there’s not a damn thing I can do to make you happy. You think you waited on me hand and foot before? What do you have to look forward to if I try to win you back now?”
Yank was a proud man and these truths hurt, but they had to be said, at least to himself. Talking back to himself was the only way he’d keep himself from picking up the phone, calling Lola and begging her to come home.
* * *
Damian slung a towel low on his hips and made for the steam room attached to the team’s workout area. He stepped into the moist heat, sat on a bench, leaned back and groaned.
His muscles ached from a good workout and his head hurt thinking about the meeting he had planned for this afternoon. Carole had called. She was in New York and had said she needed to talk to him. Not a good sign.
“God, I’m beat.”
“Join the club,” Roper said.
Damian shut his eyes and breathed in deeply, taking in the familiar smells that had always relaxed him in the past.
“How’re the workouts going?” Roper asked.
Damian appreciated the small talk that would take him out of his own head. “Pretty good.” He’d begun a slow routine of getting into shape with his trainer and the wrist was feeling surprisingly limber.
He’d be back on the field in a couple of days. Not a minute too soon, considering that ass Carter had been playing with all the heart and soul Damian had possessed in his younger years. If he’d just lose the prick-like attitude, he had potential.
And it galled Damian to admit it.
“I’m sure the time off on the island helped,” Roper said.
“It didn’t hurt.”
Roper’s stare bored into him, making him uneasy. Micki’s name had never passed the other man’s lips, but it hung between them anyway. Everyone knew Roper and Micki were close and it came as no shock that Roper would make his way around to discussing the island. They both knew Micki had everything to do with Damian’s last trip down there.
“You did a decent thing, taking care of Micki,” Roper said.
Bingo. Damian rolled his head to one side, his shoulders suddenly tense. “Just how tight are you two?”
Roper chuckled. “If I was Carter, I’d torture the hell out of you making you think there’s more between us than there is, but you’re my captain so I’ll let you down fast and easy. She’s like a sister to me.”
“Okay then.” Damian exhaled hard. He’d been home from the island ten days and not an hour went by that he didn’t think of her. “How’s she doing?”
“Why don’t you ask her yourself?” Roper asked, making Damian feel completely juvenile.
He let out a laugh. “I’ve regressed.”
“Nah. You’re just scared shitless because she’s more than capable of handling you.”
“She’s probably the only woman who can.” The words were out before he could censor them.
“And to think Micki was convinced she couldn’t possibly interest a real jock because she’s too much like one. Too much of a challenge, in other words.”
“One of the guys.” Damian repeated Micki’s expression as if he and Roper shared equal insight into Micki’s psyche. In reality, the other guy had much more knowledge and information than Damian had.
“Exactly.” Roper nodded. “I’m guessing you showed her she was wrong?” His voice held typical innuendo, but Damian knew Roper cared too much for Micki to indulge in locker room trashing. He wasn’t prying, rather he was testing Damian’s intentions.
“For a while.” And then he’d given her the kiss-off at the airport, probably reinforcing her insecurities. No matter how unintentional, Damian had screwed Micki big-time.
“So why don’t you call her and make it for a while longer?” Roper asked.
“Can’t.” Damian eased his legs out in front of him. He’d begun to sweat, and though normally at this point in the routine he’d be feeling mellow and relaxed, with Micki front and center in his mind, he was still wound tight. “I need to focus on rehab and playing.”
“And that and Micki are mutually exclusive?” Roper asked, but before Damian could reply, the other man continued. “I’d guess so, considering you have your hands full keeping Carter off your back.”
A subject Damian could discuss with Roper without holding back. He and the other man had come up through the ranks together. They didn’t have much in common except the game and mutual respect, but it was enough to forge a bond between teammates.
“The kid has balls,” Damian said of Ricky Carter. Damian understood the other man’s drive and determination. He’d had it himself at that age. He’d also had respect for those who had come before him, and that was where he and Carter differed.
“If you need help stuffing him dick first into his locker, I’m your man,” Roper offered.
“Thanks, John.”
“My pleasure.” Roper folded his arms behind his head and lay down on the long bench.
Silence descended, but instead of releasing tension, their conversation had reminded Damian of all he’d left behind on the island in favor of the shit he’d returned to in his everyday life.
He wiped the sweat off his forehead with a towel and copied Roper, lying back and closing his eyes. Better than facing what lay ahead.
* * *
Carole paced the floor of her New York City hotel room, which was twice the size of her condo, a one-floor apartment that she paid for with her job as a legal secretary. Through her position at a law firm specializing in sports contracts, she’d met a variety of athletes at a variety of stages in their lives. Some, like Damian, were close to retirement, and others, like Carter, had youth on their side.
She was attracted to them all, and when they reciprocated, she indulged in what she thought was every woman’s fantasy. Sleeping with ballplayers, star ballplayers, made her feel special and one step up from the other struggling working women of the world.
She’d never thought twice about her lifestyle, nor had she had a problem moving on when a relationship had bored her—until Damian had come along. She’d enjoyed his company and looked forward to his return trips to Florida. She thought he’d felt the same way despite his reputation and so she hadn’t seen it coming when his interest had faded. Not wanting to lose him, she thought that if she’d played it cool, he’d come to his senses and realize he didn’t want to lose her. For a short time, her plan had worked because he had called, wanting to see her on his last trip to Florida. Then he’d unceremoniously dumped her that same night, passing her off to Ricky Carter like she was a piece of meat to be shared.
Not that she didn’t like Carter. She did. A lot. Enough to have slept with him starting back in April, while she was still trying to hang on to Damian. She and Carter had had a good laugh over the fact that Damian had thought they didn’t know one another. He’d even paid for their night out.
Still, in her heart, Damian’s actions had stung. And now she had a major problem. A life-changing problem that would make living in her small apartment awfully cramped.
Her hand came to rest on her belly, as it often had since the stick had turned pink a few weeks ago. A baby. Jeez, how the frig had she been so careless?
She shook her head. Careless wasn’t the right word. She might like men, but she was smart enough to use protection each and every time. With each and every man, though in the past six months, there had only been two of them.
Damian and Carter.
She couldn’t know for sure whose baby she was carrying, but she knew who was better capable of supporting her and this child.
She knew what she had to do, which was why she was in New York now. She was so nauseous she thought she’d die and she knew it had nothing to do with morning sickness.
She was petrified of telling Damian, and yet she knew that he was the only one capable of sparing her from the same fate as her mother—pregnant and alone, raising a kid on welfare, a revolving door of men passing through. In fact, it had been this pregnancy that had forced her to face reality.
Her life had been too damn close to her mother’s. One man after another, nobody ever staying long, nobody loving her. Carole wiped the tear that dripped down her cheek. Pathetic, that’s what she was, and she never even saw it happening.
The sound of someone knocking on the door startled her and she ran to the mirror to quickly check her makeup before letting Damian inside. He was her one chance to fix her life and she couldn’t afford to mess up now.