Fifteen

“Jennifer Knowles caved as soon as I got her away from her father,” Donovan said. “Apparently Jennifer’s father has been helping to provide for his grandchildren, but the idea of having the Blaze do the job his own son won’t do sounded like a better plan. He bought right into his former daughter-in-law’s plot.”

“So Jennifer’s father green-lighted the whole thing?” Jay fumed as he paced the stone floor of the wine cellar. “What about the alleged sexual harassment at the photo shoot? Did that story change once she got out of Daddy’s earshot?”

“She said there was some truth to the accusations, but nothing physical. Alesha took some liberties when she wrote the petition up.”

Jay’s expletives bounced off the stone walls. “Hank is ready to fire those guys.”

“Some disciplining is probably in order, but firing them might be a little drastic,” Don said. “Asia thinks if the team issues a blanket apology with all of them up there at a press conference followed by an in-house mandatory sexual harassment sensitivity refresher, the team will be covered.”

“The bigger question is whether it will be enough to appease the commissioner and the crazy feminists?”

Don hesitated briefly. “As long as nothing else is leaked out.”

He scrubbed at the back of his neck. “Fine. Tell Asia to work out the details with Hank.”

“So now what?” Don asked. “Jennifer wants to tell her former sister-in-law to drop the case.”

“No!” Jay snapped. “We need her to keep playing along. Alesha Warren is just a cog in a larger ploy, and I still need to flush out who’s trying to come after me.”

“Actually, Jennifer might be able to help with that.”

Jay stopped in his tracks, his breath stilling in his lungs. Could this actually be the last puzzle piece slipping into place? “How?”

“She said that after Alesha had begun compiling the case, she reached out to that blogger—the Girlfriends’ Guide to the NFL—in hopes for some free publicity,” Don explained.

“Tell me Jennifer knows how her former sister-in-law did it.”

“Even better,” Don said, his tone gleeful. “Jennifer has the e-mail address. In her haste to get court papers ready, Alesha accidently cc’d Jennifer on one of her e-mails to the blogger.”

Yes! Jay pumped his fist into the air. He hadn’t felt this overjoyed since the Blaze won the Super Bowl. Finally, he could put an end to this. “Don’t hold back, Don. Give me that e-mail.”

“I called in a favor over at NCIS and they’re trying to trace back the IP address,” Don said. “Whoever this blogger is, he or she has been pretty adept at hiding their path, but maybe we’ll come up with something this time.”

Jay already had a good idea who the blogger was and where he could find her. He just needed the e-mail address to confirm his suspicions. “They won’t be able to come up with anything. She’s too smart to leave a trail. Just give me the e-mail and let me deal with it.”

Don was quiet for a moment on the other end of the phone. “You mean you know who it is?”

“I have my suspicions.”

It was Don’s turn to swear. “If I give you the e-mail address, you promise not to ‘deal with it’ on your own?”

Jay snorted. “I can handle her.” He didn’t need former Special Agent Donovan Carter witnessing his retaliatory extortion.

“I’m serious. This isn’t something you should be handling on your own.”

“Donovan, unless you no longer want to work for the Baltimore Blaze, you’ll text me that e-mail immediately.”

Don mumbled something that sounded less than respectful for one’s boss. “I just forwarded you the e-mail.”

“Thank you, Don. You and Asia, go home now. Tell Jennifer Knowles to sit tight and play along until we say otherwise. I’ll see you when the team arrives tomorrow night.”

He ended the call and clicked through to his e-mail. Jay released a breath he hadn’t known he was holding when he finally read the address.

“Gotcha.”

Jay found Linc in the office.

“Uh, sorry, boss,” his assistant said sheepishly.

Jay held up a hand. “Enough. We’ve got work to do. I’ve got to take a quick trip to Las Vegas tomorrow. I’ll need the plane ready first thing in the morning.”

“Sure, boss. When do we leave?”

“‘We’ aren’t leaving. This is a solo trip.” Jay pushed aside a panel in the wall to access his safe.

“You’re leaving me here? With Princess Charlotte? And your mother?” The look on Linc’s face was comical.

“Next time maybe you’ll remember to knock.”

“But, boss—”

Jay glared at his assistant. “No buts, Lincoln. I need you to hold down the fort in case of some sort of estrogen implosion.”

Linc grumbled about his grandmother calling him Lincoln when she was mad at it him, but Jay ignored his assistant. He shoved two file folders into his briefcase, hoping that they contained enough to make Delaney back down for good.

“Fine,” Linc finally said. “I’ll keep working on the Princess Charlotte problem.”

Jay paused in his packing. Bridgett knew who the father of Charlie’s baby was. He could probably get it out of her if he tried hard enough, but then again, he didn’t really want to. Sure, Jay wanted to know who the jerk was who’d knocked up his sister, but he was surprisingly comfortable with Bridgett holding on to that secret. She could be trusted with it. Bridgett would do right by Charlie.

“That problem has been solved,” Jay said as he snapped the briefcase closed.

“What do you mean it’s been solved? You know who the guy is?” Linc looked and sounded astonished—almost as though he were nine and his stepfather had just told him to suck it up, Santa Claus wasn’t real.

“I have no idea who the baby daddy is. But Bridgett does and that’s going to have to be good enough.”

Linc slumped back onto the leather sofa in the office. “Seriously? You’re going to let it go?”

Jay didn’t have the heart to totally burst the boy’s bubble. “For now.”

“So what am I supposed to do with a house full of women tomorrow?”

“I don’t know. Talk about shoes?’ Jay headed for the door, eager to finish what he and Bridgett had started in the wine cellar. “Have the plane ready to go at eight tomorrow morning.”

Linc was whimpering much like the pup Charlie had accused him of being when Jay strode from the room headed for the stairs. His mother’s voice calling his name stopped his forward progress.

“Jayson Michael McManus.”

Jay turned on his heel and glanced toward the far end of the family room. His mother sat in the shadows, a glass of wine in her hand, presumably gazing at the stars.

“The trifecta. You haven’t used all three names since I was a teenager.” Jay wandered into the dimly lit room. Tossing his briefcase on a chair, he headed for the liquor cabinet. A little voice told him that this conversation would go a lot more smoothly accompanied by two fingers of Scotch.

“Yes, well, you haven’t been around me enough this past decade to have an opportunity to warrant a full dressing-down.”

Jay sipped at his Scotch. “How do you like the chardonnay, Mother?” He gestured at the wineglass dangling from his mother’s fingertips.

“It’s lovely, but you know that it’s my favorite. You send it to me by the caseload.” She saluted him with her glass. “Stop trying to avoid this conversation.”

He perched on the arm of the upholstered chair across from the sofa his mother was curled up on. “I thought we were having a conversation.”

“Really, Jay, you’re incorrigible.”

He smiled at his mother. “I haven’t heard that word since SAT prep.”

She shook her head and took a sip from her wine. “I’ve raised two headstrong, disobedient children.”

Jay wanted to take exception to her use of the word raised but while his mother was most times too absorbed in her work to notice either of her children, her neglect was always emotional, not physical, and never on purpose. His stepfather used to explain to Charlie that her mother had a brilliant mind, and sometimes that brain didn’t allow her to share her time with others—even her children. It was a crappy thing to say to a first grader, but Lloyd Davis hadn’t exactly been the role model of a demonstrative parent either.

“What is she doing here?” his mother asked.

Jay was honestly perplexed as to which “she” his mother was referring to. “Charlie? I don’t know. She just showed up,” he lied. “She’s obviously bored with the beautiful people this week so she’s hiding out here.”

“I wasn’t talking about Charlie. Although shame on you for not telling me immediately when she arrived. I worry about her and I’m tired of having to find about her comings and goings from that obnoxious TMZ program.”

“And this is my problem, how?”

“It’s never been your problem,” his mother snapped. “She adores you. Me, she just tolerates. Lloyd should have never allowed his will to be written to give her access to her trust at eighteen. She was too young. Of course she’d rebel against me.” She swallowed hard and jerked her chin up. “Never mind. I can wait Charlie out. One day she’ll have children of her own and she’ll understand how difficult it is to be a mother.”

Jay choked on the Scotch he’d just swallowed, trying not spew it all over his mom. Damn. Clearly, Charlie hadn’t come clean with her.

“I’m talking about Bridgett Janik,” his mother continued. “Why is she here after all these years? You loved her and she broke your heart. I watched you nearly self-destruct after she lied about the baby. Don’t tell me you’re giving her a second chance to do the same?”

Jay coughed now, the lack of air bringing tears to his eyes. Was he giving Bridgett a second chance? At a sexual relationship, yes, but not at his heart. Somehow, he didn’t think his mother would understand that, though. “It’s business, Mom. Her firm is representing the team in a crazy class action case.”

His mother tsked at him. “According to your sister, your lawyer slept in your room last night. With you. That’s monkey business if you ask me. And don’t you dare disregard those cheerleaders who represent your team as ‘crazy.’ You’d better be paying those women a decent wage as well as providing them a safe work environment.”

He had to smile at his mother’s staunch protection of working women everywhere. “The case is specious. By all accounts, the Sparks are not only happy with their pay, but also their working conditions. The truth will win out and the case will be settled very soon.”

“Does that mean your ‘business’ with your lawyer will be over very soon, too?”

Jay’s gut clenched at the thought. After years of being apart from Bridgett—of despising what she did—the thought of letting her go again was unthinkable.

His mother sighed. “Never mind. Your face says it all.”

“And what does it say, Mother?”

“That you’ve forgiven her. And you still love her.”

He gulped down the rest of his Scotch. “You’re wrong on both counts. But we’ve moved on.”

Coming to her feet, she walked over to Jay and cupped his cheek. “For such a smart man, you really don’t get it. You’ll never be able to move on. Not without forgiving her. And it’s impossible to keep your heart out of any relationship, no matter how hard you try. Love just doesn’t work that way.” She kissed his cheek. “You’ve been aloof and guarded since that summer, not allowing anyone to get close to you. I want to see you happy, not just involved in a calculated ‘business’ relationship. That’s not healthy, Jay. And no matter how superhuman you think you are”—she tapped his chest—“it’s dangerous here.”

Jay didn’t bother enlightening his mother that he no longer had a heart to risk. He’d left it in Italy all those years ago.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” she asked, standing in the doorway.

“No,” he said. “I have business I need to attend to all day.”

She sighed again. “All right, then. But I’d like to find some time before the party to speak with both you and your sister together. It’s important.”

“Is everything okay?” A trickle of unease ran up Jay’s spine.

“Everything is fine. I just have something to discuss with you two while I have you both in the same house. That doesn’t happen often enough.”

The regret in his mother’s voice made him even more uncomfortable. But the last thirteen years hadn’t been entirely his fault. “I’ll have Josie arrange a nice lunch on Saturday.”

His mother nodded. “Good night, then.”

Jay heard her footsteps disappear up the stairs, but he remained where he was, staring out at the darkened vineyard. The stars in the night sky were not as bright as they were in the valleys of Northern Italy, but Jay still felt a profound connection to the place that had changed his life.

•   •   •

“Damn it, Bridgett, the condom broke.” Jay looked across the cab of his pickup truck at Bridgett, her much calmer face illuminated by starlight as she drove them toward the airport in Verona.

“I know that, Jay. I was there, remember?” She shot him a cheeky smile before returning her eyes to the road. “Please don’t worry about that now. Your stepfather just died. You need to get home to your mother and Charlie.”

“I wish you’d come with me.” It was the first time he’d admitted that to her, but suddenly the thought of leaving her behind was more painful than the prospect of attending his stepfather’s funeral.

She smiled again, but kept her eyes on the road. “I’ll be with you in spirit. Besides, you’ll have too much to do to think about me.”

His stepfather’s sudden death had been a shock. When Jay’s mother had finally reached him, she’d begged him to hurry home for Charlie, saying that the little girl was understandably devastated. She needed her big brother now more than ever. He was booked on the first flight out the following morning and Bridgett was making the two-hour drive to get him there on time. Jay was grateful to have a few more hours to spend with her.

The last seven weeks had flown by while both of them worked during the days and spent their nights in each other’s arms. He’d told her about his family, his friends and their dream of opening a vineyard. Bridgett had slowly and irrevocably become a part of that dream, too. Jay couldn’t imagine a life without her.

“I’ll e-mail you every time I get near a computer,” he told her. “So if anything results from the broken condom, you’re to tell me right away. I’m not sure how long it will take me to get things organized for my family.”

Bridgett’s hands gripped the steering wheel a bit more firmly than they had a moment before. “Please don’t spend all your time worrying about that. The odds are pretty great nothing will come of it.”

“Yeah, I know that, but promise me anyway,” he asked her. “Because I want to do the right thing.”

She kept her gaze focused over the truck’s hood. “You’ll be the second to know.”

Jay breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m glad you’re living with the DiSantis family. They’re good people.”

“Yes, well, they’ve only got to put up with me for eight more weeks. Then it’s back home to Boston and the rest of my life, wherever that takes me.”

You’ll be with me, he wanted to shout out. But something held the words in his throat. It was too early. Jay thought she might feel the same way about him as he felt about her. Bridgett’s emotions shone very clearly on her face whenever they made love. But still he hadn’t told her he loved her. Even though Jay knew deep in his bones that he did.

Standing outside the terminal, Jay didn’t want to let Bridgett go. He kissed her deeply, breathing in the scent of her and committing it to memory. “I might not get back here,” he whispered. “After I sort things out with my family, I have to go to Chicago to move out of the house I’m sharing with friends.”

“Then it’s a good thing I’m coming home at the end of September,” she said as she tangled her fingers in his hair.

Jay kissed the tip of her nose. “It’s a very good thing.”

“Go, before you miss your connection in Rome.” She shoved at his chest, but Jay could see the telltale dampness in her eyes. “Your family needs you more than I do right now,” she said.

“But you’ll call me if you need me?”

She gave him a quick nod of her head. “I’ll see you in a few weeks.”

“I’ll send you an e-mail as soon as I can,” he said as he made his way into the terminal.

•   •   •

Jay swallowed the dregs of his Scotch. He had sent Bridgett e-mails at first. Long flowing letters describing the events leading up to Lloyd Davis’s funeral. In return, Bridgett had sent back messages of encouragement and support. They’d kept him hopeful for the future. But a week later, Jay’s world was rocked again when he learned he’d been shut out of his father’s will. Looking back now, he hadn’t reacted to the situation as well as he should have. He’d been immature, taking everything out on the people around him. And even those loved ones an ocean away. Not that any of his behavior excused Bridgett’s. But admitting some culpability made it a lot easier for him to climb the stairs and seek out her bedroom.