Seventeen

“You don’t follow directions very well,” Jay said as he boarded his jet to find Donovan Carter sitting in one of the passenger seats.

“It’s my job to protect you.” Donovan’s voice was a bit raspy, probably from lack of sleep. He would have had to have caught the last flight out to make it to the Marin County airport by eight A.M. Pacific time.

“No, it’s your job to provide security for the team, not me personally,” Jay said as he took the seat opposite Donovan.

“Yeah, well, let’s just say I like working for you. I’m not in the mood to break in a new owner.”

“But that’s all for naught if I fire you on the spot.”

Donovan crossed his arms over his chest defiantly. “It’s a risk worth taking.”

Jay smiled while he shook his head. “Seriously, this isn’t going to be like anything you’re used to at NCIS. Just a discussion between two people who used to be friends.”

“They’re not much of a friend if they want to smear your reputation online.”

“The friendship went south years ago,” Jay said. “But I still have a bargaining chip or two that I can use to get this whole thing to stop.”

“You sound as if this is all going to go civilly?” Don sounded doubtful.

“I have every confidence that I won’t need a gun-toting bodyguard for this meeting.” Jay poured himself a cup of coffee from the carafe next to his seat.

Donovan laughed. “Oh, you’re way off base here, boss. I’m not here to protect you from the blogger. I’m here to protect you from Brody Janik.”

Jay swore as he burned his tongue on the coffee. “Brody?”

“Oh yeah. He’s vowed to take you out himself as soon as he sees you.”

“Has he forgotten who signs his paychecks?”

Donovan shrugged. “I doubt that will be a deterrent in this case. He’s pretty protective of the women in his life. Don’t forget how he tore up that hotel in New Hampshire last year at his sister’s wedding.”

Jay sighed. “I’m convinced that was just Brody overreacting in that case. And he’s overreacting here.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not going to take any chances with your former friend or your girlfriend’s cranky little brother.”

The pilot stuck his head out of the cockpit and Jay gave him the go-ahead to take off. Short of firing the Blaze security chief, who was a team and fan favorite after saving the coach’s daughter and Carly Devlin from a crazed stalker a few years ago, Jay didn’t have much choice but to let him tag along. He didn’t bother taking exception to Don’s characterization of Bridgett as his girlfriend. It was as good a word as any to describe his relationship with her.

The real question would be how long their relationship would last. If she had her way, she’d be gone with the team on Sunday. Trouble was, Jay didn’t want to let her have her way.

He’d left her bed this morning reluctantly. The only thing getting him out the door was the desire to end the ridiculous efforts to blackmail him. The escapades of the blogger had caused enough collateral damage to players, coaches, and others throughout the league. It was time to put an end to her vendetta against him and Blake.

Don was snoring softly beside him and Jay decided to close his eyes for a moment also. He’d slept intermittently the night before between “negotiations” with Bridgett. He’d definitely need his wits about him this morning.

•   •   •

“What do you mean, there’s no money?” Delaney cried.

Jay leaned back against the leather recliner he’d bought at Goodwill when they first found the house in Hyde Park. “Lloyd left it all to Charlie.” Jay took a long pull from his bottle of beer. “He left my mother his shares in the body armor company, but not enough to have a controlling interest, the bastard. Not that my mother cares. She says she’d rather go back to research at a university anyway.”

“I care!” Delaney’s voice was becoming irritatingly shrill and Jay wished he’d kept his buzz up from last night, but Blake was making him sober up. It had been a week since Lloyd’s funeral and the bombshell that his stepfather hadn’t thought enough of him or his mother to make either one trustee of Charlie’s money. Not only that, but Jay’s dream of opening up his own winery was indefinitely on hold. He realized now that had Lloyd not died suddenly, he might not have loaned Jay the money anyway.

“We’ll open the vineyard,” Blake said as he switched Jay’s beer for a cup of Starbucks. “My father said he’d help us pull together some venture capitalists to get it started. He believes in you, Jay.”

“How long will that take?” Delaney was getting a little twitchy now. She’d seemed a bit jumpy ever since Jay had arrived back from Italy.

Blake shrugged. “These things don’t happen overnight. The DiSantises are going to sell you the fermentation formula, right?”

Jay nodded as he took a sip of the bitter coffee. “I’ll have to sell the labels to get the money to pay Giovanni, but yeah, they’ve agreed to sell it to me.”

“You can’t sell your trademarked wine labels, Mac,” Blake said. “They’re all you have left from your family legacy.”

“How much will they bring in?” Delaney asked.

Blake shot his fiancée a sharp look.

“We can design new labels,” Jay said. “The important thing is to get the formula before DiSantis changes his mind. I’ll have to move fast, though. I contacted a guy in New Zealand who wants to buy them. My flight is out of O’Hare this afternoon.”

“What can we do to help?” Blake asked.

Jay pulled a tattered envelope out of his backpack. “Loan me a stamp?”

“Sending love letters to your Italian girlfriend?” Blake teased.

When Jay had first arrived back in the States, he’d mentioned to his two friends that he’d met someone; someone who was very important to him. But he hadn’t felt comfortable going into much more detail—especially since Blake and Delaney’s relationship seemed to be deteriorating before his eyes. Besides, he needed to get his crazy life sorted out first before he could go back to Italy and make plans with Bridgett. Knowing that she was waiting for him was the one thing that was keeping him sane.

“She’s living with the DiSantises, so I’d rather not send her an e-mail that could be read by anyone else using the vineyard’s computer,” he explained. “I just want her to know what’s going on. After all, she’s going to be a part of our venture, too.”

Blake’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Whoa!”

“You’re that serious about her?” Delaney asked. “Enough to make her a partner?”

“I’m that serious.” A horn honked outside. “That’s my cab. Do either of you have a stamp?”

Delaney took the letter from Jay’s hands. “No, but I’m on my way to the store. I’ll get one and mail it out for you.” She kissed Jay’s cheek. “Hurry back.” Without even a glance at Blake she headed out the back door.

Blake blew out a frustrated breath as he followed Jay to his cab.

“Things gonna be okay with you two?” Jay asked, not sure he really wanted to know the answer.

“Honestly?” Blake dragged a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. She’s turning into someone I don’t know. But, hey, you’ve got enough to worry about right now. Whatever happens between Delaney and me, it won’t keep us from opening the winery, okay?”

It seemed that the world was conspiring against Jay realizing his dream of owning a vineyard, but he was determined not to fail. It was his legacy and, more important, now it was his future with Bridgett.

•   •   •

Mimi tapped her pen against the table slowly, the beat reminding Bridgett of a death march. “So can I say you two are dating?”

Bridgett sipped on her tea and stared out toward the pool, where Charlie was lounging on a chair and talking on the phone. “Is it necessary to comment on our relationship at all?” she asked Mimi.

“So you do have a relationship?” Mimi was like a shopper at Filene’s Basement, digging through the bargain rack for the best price.

“I’m his attorney. Beyond that I’m not going to comment.”

“Oh, come on!” Mimi threw up her pen in exasperation. “This blogger is making it sound like you two have been an item for years. Today’s post hinted that you met long before Jay bought the team. Is that true?”

The blogger had come out swinging that morning, reporting in the Girlfriends’ Guide to the NFL that there was more to Jay and Bridgett’s story and details would be forthcoming. Just as Alesha Warren had warned, the blog had also alluded to the suspected sexual harassment allegations against the Blaze owner. Other media organizations were already picking up the sexual harassment angle, digging for anything and everything. Jay’s assistant, Linc, had been gnashing his teeth all morning between reports on ESPN and the NFL Network, while Stuart had texted her the link to the Today show’s feature on it. All were now hinting that possible NFL sanctions against the team were imminent.

Not for the first time, Bridgett wondered who the blogger might be. Like her sister-in-law, Shay, she was convinced that the person behind the secret-revealing column was a woman. Jay had refused to elaborate further last night, but his reluctance to divulge more information just gave Bridgett more clues: The blogger could only be a spurned lover. Bridgett ignored the burst of jealousy that rolled through her belly.

Jay was confident that he could deal with her on his own. Technically, whoever was behind the blog hadn’t broken any laws. Nothing she’d printed was libelous—everything written in the titillating column had been true, so far. Somehow, she’d managed to get ahold of secrets those associated with the NFL would prefer be kept quiet. In her brother’s case, Brody’s secrets were revealed to the blogger by his personal trainer. In this case, very few people knew of Jay and Bridgett’s early relationship. Bridgett had told no one in the United States. That meant Jay had done all the talking, despite his insistence that he hadn’t. She already knew that Jay had told his mother. The idea that their Italian fling might have been discussed during pillow talk with a former lover made Bridgett’s skin burn with embarrassment. And disappointment.

“I think you should concentrate on diluting the sexual harassment allegations by providing quotes from current and former Sparks cheerleaders who are very happy with their working conditions.” She tapped the file of e-mails from Dan she’d printed off earlier that morning. “That’s the relevant issue here.”

Mimi huffed in annoyance. “I’ve already contacted several neutral media outlets and given them our side of the story. But TMZ and Radar Online want the scoop on you and Jay. The man is a mainstay on People’s Fifty Most Eligible Bachelors list. Women want to know if he’s officially off the market.”

Since Bridgett had no idea how to quantify her relationship with Jay—enemies with benefits?—she didn’t bother going into detail. “No comment.” The vibrating of her cell phone saved her from any further grilling by Mimi.

“Bridgett!” Gwen sounded like she was about to go nuclear. “Do you know what that bastard did? Do you?”

Bridgett wandered out toward the garden area, out of earshot of Mimi. “No, what has Skip done now? You are talking about Skip, right?”

“Of course I am,” Gwen snapped. “He told the kids about the baby. The baby he’s having with . . . with that woman.” Her sister’s voice broke on a sob.

This was why Bridgett hadn’t gone into divorce law. The thought of dealing with the horrible things spouses did to each other when their marriage ended chilled her. She’d barely gotten over Jay’s abandonment all those years ago. There was no way she could emotionally handle watching others go through such pain.

“I’m sorry, Gwen.” Her words sounded inadequate even to her own ears.

“The kids were excited,” her sister choked out. “They’re excited about a baby their father is having with another woman. They want to live with the baby. How do I battle that?”

Bridgett’s heart sank for her sister. The days and months ahead for Gwen would be difficult. “I’ll be home on Monday, Gwen. We’ll figure something out. I promise.”

Gwen scoffed. “If the tabloids are right, you’ll be engaged by Monday.”

“I told you, don’t believe everything you read, Gwen.”

“So you two are not an item? Oh, Bridgett, can’t you at least close the deal with a man once in your life?”

“Hey!” Bridgett’s tender feelings for her sister were fading quickly.

“I’m sorry, Bridge,” Gwen said quietly. “It’s just that I really wanted this to be true for you. If anyone deserves a hot torrid affair with a gorgeous millionaire, it’s you.”

Bridgett heaved a sigh. “It’s complicated.” That was certainly the understatement of the year.

“It’s only complicated if you fall in love with him,” Gwen said. “So here’s my sisterly advice: Just use him for sex.”

“Gwen!” Bridgett had to gulp around the lump that had formed in her throat. She was beginning to think it was too late for “just sex.”

“Seriously, Bridge, heed my advice because the falling out of love part”—Gwen’s voice broke again—“stings something fierce.”

She didn’t bother telling Gwen that she already knew that kind of pain firsthand.

When Mimi disappeared to parts unknown, Bridgett went to work preparing the necessary documents protecting Charlie’s baby from any repercussions from the sperm donor.

“Donors sign their rights away when they leave their sample,” Bridgett explained to Charlie later that afternoon. The two were sitting on the verandah overlooking the vineyard. Charlie looked young and fresh, dressed in shorts and a V-neck T-shirt straight from a Gap mannequin, her face makeup free. It would be hard for others to imagine that this beautiful, vivacious young woman could be so lonely, but Bridgett related to Charlie easily. “If you had the procedure in the U.S., you’re also protected by HIPAA from any of the medical professionals in the practice where you were inseminated from releasing the information to the public. Of course, that doesn’t prevent someone who no longer works there from leaking the news one day.”

Charlie groaned. “Yeah, I figured as much. I had the procedure done in New York. The doctor and his nurse were the only people in the room.”

“Good. Do you have any information on the sperm donor?”

“No, just the basics, good health, all his teeth, IQ above 120, brown eyes, brown hair. I made sure to pick from the donors who hadn’t signed up for the identity disclosure program. I figured that if they didn’t want kids looking for them once they were eighteen, they wouldn’t be looking for their kids, either.”

Bridgett was impressed at her reasoning. “Good thinking.”

“I happen to have an IQ over 120 myself,” Charlie said.

The smug grin she gave Bridgett was so very much like Jay’s that she nearly laughed. She sobered up quickly before she asked the next question, though. “I have to ask if you slept with anyone else during that time period.”

Charlie’s smile faded and her mouth grew hard. “Contrary to how the tabloids depict me, I’m not some slut who sleeps with a different rock star every night.”

“I take that as a no?”

“No!”

“You hired me to do this right for you, Charlie,” Bridgett explained. “I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t cover all the bases.”

“Do you like it?”

Her question caught Bridgett off guard. “Like what? My job?”

Charlie nodded.

Bridgett thought carefully about her answer. “I like that things are always black and white. Most of the cases I handle are fairly clear-cut.”

“Did you always want to be a lawyer?”

“No. When I was your age, I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life. I liked the idea of helping those who were less fortunate, but in the end, I had to make a living somehow.”

Charlie looked wistful as she gazed across the vineyard. “I want to do something where people will take me seriously.”

Bridgett was careful to tamp down on the surprise in her voice. “Why don’t you?”

She watched as Charlie’s hand gently cupped her still-flat belly. “I am.”

Somehow, Bridgett didn’t think that Charlie’s decision to have a baby would get people to take her seriously, but she refrained from saying so. “Well, at least we can make sure your baby’s fortune is protected.”

“You didn’t tell Jay about the baby’s father?”

“Of course not.”

“Did he ask?”

“You know he did.”

Charlie grinned then. “Good. I can trust you. More important, my brother can trust you. He doesn’t have too many people in his life he can say that about.”

Bridgett didn’t bother to comment. It wasn’t her trust that was at issue between them, unfortunately.