CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Riley patted Lizzie’s back, and she stepped away and headed back to her seat. “You okay?” he asked her. She nodded.
He turned to Sophie, intending to make peace between the two ladies in his life, but saw an empty chair instead. His stomach plummeted and a wave of emptiness swept through him. “Where—”
“She slipped out,” his mother said.
“I’m sorry.” Lizzie glanced at him through wide, too-innocent eyes.
He doubted her sincerity, but now wasn’t the time to get into it. As much as he wanted to go after Sophie, he intended to settle some things within his immediate family first. His father had rejoined them, and if the whispering was any indication, his mother had filled him in on what had just happened.
Based on recent experience, he’d never have them all together in one room again. “I have something I want to discuss. It’s something that affects us all, and Lizzie needs to be part of the conversation.”
“What’s up?” Lizzie asked.
Riley drew a deep breath. He hadn’t slept last night and, as much as he’d like to blame his insomnia on thoughts of making love to Sophie, he’d had other things on his mind as well. Like winning Sophie back.
And cleaning house, he thought. There was no way he could try to bring Sophie into his life until he proved to himself and to her that he was a man capable of dealing with some serious issues in his life. He knew she thought of him as a guy with a girl in every city, and for a while, that hadn’t been far from the truth. The fact that he wasn’t like that anymore didn’t matter without proof that he wanted to set his life in order.
He’d caused much of his daughter’s attitude and problems by spoiling her. He’d acted with the best of intentions, but he’d screwed up and it was time he admitted it.
“You were right when you said that I never called you on your actions before Sophie came into the picture.”
“You see? I knew she was the problem!” Lizzie said triumphantly.
He shook his head. “Not the problem, but the solution.”
“I don’t get it,” Lizzie said warily.
“I don’t either, son.” Harlan held his wife’s hand and spoke for them both.
He smiled grimly. “You will once I explain. I let Lizzie get away with having an attitude, with acting like a spoiled brat—”
“Hey!” She interrupted, jumping from her seat.
“Sit down and let me talk,” he said in his sternest voice.
She sat.
“I didn’t want to be the bad guy because I was afraid of losing you, of having no relationship with you the way—”
“The way we did for a while, right?” Harlan asked quickly.
Too quickly. He had interrupted Riley in order to keep him from mentioning Spencer’s name. Riley glanced at the man who’d raised him. “It has to be said.”
His mother raised a trembling hand to cover her mouth, but she said nothing.
“What has to be said? What’s going on?” Lizzie asked.
“Nothing,” Harlan said.
“Everything,” Riley countered. “Mom, Dad? You raised me well and I love you both. But you raised me to value honesty above everything else, and I can’t move forward with my life if I don’t come clean with Lizzie now.”
Harlan clenched his jaw. “She’s thirteen. I think you’re asking a lot of a thirteen-year-old to keep this kind of secret.”
Riley’s attention settled on his daughter. Her face was contorted in confusion. “I trust her,” he said, hoping to convey his love for her, as well.
Harlan rose. “Well, pardon me if I don’t sit here and watch you bury this family and my career,” he muttered and walked from the room.
“I’ll calm him down.” Anne turned to Riley. “I understand why you need to do this,” she said, granting him the one thing he needed most right now: her understanding.
“Thanks. Just one question before you go. When did you find out about Spencer? Did you know all along?”
“I found out through the papers like everyone else,” she said, and from the sad tone in her voice, Riley believed her.
“We’ll talk later,” he promised.
She nodded and followed the path her husband had taken. Riley trusted in his parents’ marriage as much as he trusted in…in Sophie, he realized. And he knew that he was sitting here now, about to divulge his entire past to his daughter, so that he could have a future with Sophie.
The woman he loved.
He’d thought it last night and had only grown more certain after making love to her on the field. In the time since Spencer’s disappearance, his life had undergone a bigger transformation than he’d ever thought possible. Finding out his real father was gay had forced Riley to come to terms with so much in his life, he almost owed the old man a thank you.
But first…he faced his daughter.
Almost an hour later, Lizzie knew everything, from Harlan not being his real father to Spencer Atkins being his biological one. She’d been sincere when she’d promised to keep the news to herself, but she’d laughed a lot, too. Nothing less than he’d expected from a thirteen-year-old girl.
They talked about their relationship and the changes that they’d both have to make going forward, hugging and crying as they tried to negotiate and agree. One of the deals they made was Lizzie’s promise to apologize to Sophie.
Riley actually felt good, as if he were making progress. When he’d revealed that he intended to do everything he could to make Sophie part of their family, Lizzie had turned back into his obnoxious, rebellious thirteen-year-old once more.
And all was right with Riley’s world.
* * *
Everything had gone to hell. From the moment Riley and his female companions had stepped onto the plane, earlier than planned because he refused to let Sophie fly home by herself, to the minute they’d walked out of the gate at JFK, chaos had reigned.
Lizzie was angry they were cutting their trip short, and though she’d apologized to Sophie as he’d demanded, her I’m sorry had lacked any sincerity whatsoever and she’d refused to speak the entire flight home.
Sophie had withdrawn, as well. When he’d discovered her packing in her room, all she would say was that the father-daughter bond was sacred and she refused to come between them and cause a rift. After all, she’d reminded him, his biggest fear had been ending up estranged from Lizzie, as he’d been from Spencer. She was doing him a favor, she’d said, and she felt certain he’d come to see it and even thank her one day.
Like hell.
Riley planned for Lisa to pick Lizzie up from the airport, leaving him time alone to deal with Sophie. Because his ex missed their daughter, she’d agreed. Lisa had shown up as planned and whisked the sullen child away, winking at Riley and shooting him a thumbs-up signal behind Sophie’s back.
His ex-wife approved of his choice in women. Fucking fantastic, Riley thought. Still, he appreciated her help in giving him a chance to win Sophie over.
Until he heard someone call Sophie’s name. He turned and saw her sister Micki and her husband, retired baseball player Damian Fuller.
“I’m sure I told you I’d take you home,” Riley said before Micki reached them.
Sophie didn’t look at him. “I didn’t want to put you out so I called my sister.”
“So I see.” And he didn’t miss the irony.
When Sophie had insisted he act like Lizzie’s parent instead of her friend, Riley had used her words as an excuse to pull away. Now, when he took her advice and laid down the law with his daughter, acting like the parent Sophie had wanted him to be, she pulled away from him.
And Riley saw it as the excuse he knew it to be. Unfortunately he had no time to call Sophie on it, because Micki ran to the luggage carousel and threw her arms around Sophie, hugging her hard.
“It’s been so long!” Micki exclaimed.
Sophie hugged her sister back, laughing and grinning in a way Riley hadn’t seen—ever. This was the Sophie he’d always imagined, the warm, loving woman who had everything she wanted and needed in her life. Except her sisters were married and Sophie was alone.
Riley was right. She needed him, too. She just didn’t know it yet.
“Two weeks and you and Damian deserved every last minute. But I am so glad you’re home.” Sophie pulled her sister tight once more.
“Women.” Damian Fuller gestured to the two blondes making a spectacle of themselves.
Riley nodded. “I’m—”
“Riley Nash, NY Giants. I think I’ve heard of you.” Damian laughed.
Riley nodded. “Same here, Fuller. Good to meet you in person.” He shook the other man’s hand.
Damian studied Riley for a moment, not hard to do when the sisters were preoccupied with each other. “Mind if I give you a piece of advice?”
Riley shrugged. “Can’t hurt.”
“The first thing is, don’t bother trying to step in between the sisters. Not now. Not ever.”
Riley raised an eyebrow. “In other words, grab my bag and call it a night?”
Damian nodded. “Sophie’s tough because she’s had to be. Middle-sister syndrome along with the same fear they all share of losing someone they fall in love with.” The other man slapped Riley on the back.
“Hey, it’s not like she’s admitted she loves me,” Riley clarified.
Damian shrugged. “You’re obviously in deep with her and the only way to deal is to give her enough space to realize what she’s missing. Otherwise she’ll keep pushing you away and never be forced to look at herself in the mirror.”
Riley hefted his bag off the conveyor. “Did you become a shrink since retiring?”
“Nah. I just became part of the Jordan family. A guy learns about all the sisters real quick that way. And speaking of being part of the family—” Damian led Riley a short distance away from where Sophie and Micki were chatting, completely oblivious to the men.
“Yeah?” he asked, anxious to get home.
“Sophie’s my sister-in-law and that makes her family. So if you aren’t serious, get the hell out and don’t come back. Because if I see you again, I’m going to assume you mean business.”
Riley rolled his stiff shoulders back, stretching his tight muscles. “In other words, hurt her and I answer to you?”
“Something like that.”
Considering the shape he was currently in, Riley wasn’t worried. Not to mention the fact that he and Damian were in complete agreement where Sophie was concerned. “I only want her happiness,” he felt compelled to tell Sophie’s brother-in-law.
“Good. Then I won’t have to kick your ass,” Damian said, laughing.
Riley grinned. “No, but if you wouldn’t mind knocking some sense into your sister-in-law, I’d be mighty obliged,” he said in a thick Mississippi drawl.
Then, without saying goodbye to Sophie or Micki, he tossed his duffel over his shoulder and left the airport. Leaving Sophie on her own as she obviously desired.
Besides, if Damian was wrong and his absence didn’t make Sophie’s heart grow fonder, Riley would just turn around and kick the other man’s ass.
* * *
A few days after Sophie’s return, the partners gathered in the boardroom. Uncle Yank glanced around, and obviously satisfied, began to call their meeting to order. “The weekly meeting of The Hot Zone—”
Spencer cleared his throat loudly.
Uncle Yank frowned but got the message and started over. “The weekly meeting of Athletes Only and The Hot Zone will now come to order.” Uncle Yank rapped his gavel, given to him by Judge Judy, on the table with such glee that Sophie jumped in her seat.
He lived for this gig, Sophie thought.
“The secretary should note that all partners are present and accounted for.” His gaze settled on Lola, who sat next to him, doodling but not taking notes.
“I said, the secretary should note that all partners are present and accounted for.” He nudged his wife with his elbow. “Lola, honey, you’re the secretary. That means you take the notes.”
“That’s what I’m doing. Or don’t you hear my pen moving on the paper? I thought you told me that when the sight goes, the other senses get heightened?” Lola asked too sweetly.
Uh-oh. Sophie and her sisters shared amused glances. Obviously husband and wife were arguing again, which, considering the parties involved were Yank and Lola, wasn’t a great surprise, nor was it a cause for worry. It was status quo.
“You’re scribblin’ circles, honey,” he said through gritted teeth.
Lola glanced up from her paper. “I wouldn’t have thought you could see the difference, dear.”
“Oh, Lord. Are we going to witness a family squabble?” Spencer asked.
Sophie chuckled. “As if you didn’t know what it was like to be a part of this clan.”
“What in the world is going on now?” Annabelle asked.
Lola placed her pen down on her pad. “I came home early yesterday and found your uncle making himself a tuna-fish sandwich.”
Everyone waited for the punch line.
“The tuna was in a Tupperware container in the fridge. I don’t need my full peepers to do that.” Yank defended himself, but the color high on his cheekbones said there was more.
“You were cutting a tomato with a serrated knife,” Lola said, her voice rising.
Yank exhaled a frustrated groan. “I’m not a child who needs his food cut up for him.”
“And I don’t intend to be married to a nine-fingered pain in the ass. You push things too far, Yank Morgan. I know you. You’d cut off one finger at a time if it meant keeping your independence.” Lola gripped her pen tighter in her hand.
“I’m fine. It was just a little nick.” He held up the injured digit. His middle finger stuck straight up in the air, flipping the bird to everyone at the table.
Everyone, with the exception of Lola, snickered at the sight. The sad truth was that Lola had every right to be concerned, but as usual, Uncle Yank managed to turn the situation into a circus.
“I need the afternoon off,” Lola announced.
Spencer cleared his throat. “I don’t see a problem.”
“What for?” Yank demanded to know.
She met his gaze, a smug smile on her lips.
Sophie braced herself for whatever the other woman had in mind.
“I plan to go on over to the hardware store. I’m going to purchase those babyproof locks so I can secure the drawers and cabinets,” she said to her husband.
“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 his team.”
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.
* * *
Riley 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, Snap Chat, talking on the phone and texting 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. And 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 is 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.