by Anna DePalo
An uncomfortable silence hung in the air so that every tinkle of a fork sounded loud and clear.
Dante cleared his throat. “Sera got mixed up with Jordan because she was helping me out.”
Rosana’s bewildered expression swung to her son.
“I asked Sera to take on Jordan as a client so I could look better at work.” Dante shrugged. “You know, new job and all.”
Sera threw her brother a grateful look. For a long time, she’d been out to stake her independence and competence, and these days her family—or at least one of them—seemed ready to acknowledge her help.
“I don’t know what to say,” her mother said after a pause.
“Don’t worry, Mom,” Sera said quickly, because old habits died hard and she still felt the need to reassure her mother. “Jordan and I are no longer seeing each other.”
“Because of the story that’s circulating?” Rosana asked.
“That was part of it. More because it took me by surprise. He didn’t feel the need to tell me.”
Her mother sighed.
Dante helped himself to some more meatballs from the serving bowl. “Well, the world has tilted on its axis,” he joked. “Sera is bailing me out these days, and Mom has a beau.”
“What?” It was Sera’s turn to look surprised.
Her mother suddenly looked flustered.
Dante cracked a smile. “Mom’s not the only one who has her sources among the town gossips. The gentleman caller is alleged to be a mild-mannered accountant by day, and one mean parlor cardplayer by night.”
Sera tilted her head. “Let me guess. You ran into one of Mom’s friends from her monthly card-playing posse?”
“Yeah,” Dante said slyly. “One of them let it slip. In her defense—” her brother paused to throw their mother a significant look “—Mom’s friend thought I already knew.”
“Wow,” Sera said slowly, her gaze roaming from her brother to her mother and back. “Anyone else have any secrets to share?”
Dante swallowed his food. “Not me. I play it straight.”
Sera resisted rolling her eyes. And then, because her mother continued to look embarrassed, she added, “I’m happy for you, Mom. Really happy. It’s about time.”
“Thank you, Sera,” her mother said composedly before raising her eyebrows at Dante. “We’re taking things slowly, despite any rumors your brother may be spreading.”
Dante just grinned cheekily.
Her mother then focused on Sera again, fixing her with a concerned look. “Are you okay? This must be a lot to deal with.”
“I’m a grown-up, Mom. I can manage.”
Rosana Perini suddenly smiled. “I know you are, but if you want to talk, I’m here.” She waved a hand. “I realize Marisa has been your confidante, but ever since your father died, I think I know something about being the walking wounded.”
Sera tried a smile, but to her surprise it wobbled a little. She couldn’t help being touched. First Dante, now her mother. It seemed her family was finally able to give her space as an adult—as well as owning up to their own weaknesses. Her mother showed signs of moving on from her fears after the death of a child and, more recently, of a husband. “Thanks, Mom.”
Her mother reached across to give her hand a reassuring squeeze and then stood to take some empty plates to the kitchen.
When their mother had departed, Dante threw Sera a curious look from across the table. “So, you and Jordan...”
“Yes?”
Dante leaned forward, keeping his voice low. “Let me know if I need to challenge Serenghetti to a duel. Job or no job, family comes first.”
“Thanks, but I’ve got this.”
“I thought...the bet.”
“I know. We patched things up. He seemed to have real feelings for me.” Feelings again. She was starting to sound like Bernice and Marisa.
“So things were getting real between you and Jordan, and then this happened.” Dante cursed.
She leaned forward, too. “He said he doesn’t know if he’s the father.”
Her brother sighed. “For what it’s worth, celebrity sports stars are targets for gold diggers and fame seekers all the time. Don’t believe everything you read. It might not be true.”
Jordan had said as much—or tried to—but at the time, his argument had paled in significance to the parallels to Neil. Except the similarity to Neil wasn’t exactly right. Because...because—
“So Jordan has feelings for you. How do you feel about him?”
I love him.
Sera’s heart thudded in her chest. She finally admitted to herself what had lingered on the edges of her consciousness despite her pain. Jordan made her sad, mad and bad but vibrantly alive. Sexual tension had given way under her feet like thin ice once she’d gotten to know him.
Yes, she’d been hurt and angry about hearing the bombshell news from a stranger instead of Jordan himself. But unlike her former boyfriend, Jordan hadn’t tried to cover up the fact of a secret family for months. And didn’t she want to be part of his life, child or no child?
Seeming to read the emotions flitting across her face, Dante continued, “Ser, if you do care about him, you have to figure out what to do.”
Sera stared at her brother, and then as their mother reentered the dining room, both she and Dante sat back.
She loved Jordan. The question was: What was she going to do about it?
Fourteen
“I’ve got news,” Marv announced.
“No news is good news,” Jordan joked, holding the phone to his ear, “but I’m prepared for anything you have to say. So what did you find, Marv?”
Despite his easygoing tone, Jordan tensed. He’d taken a break from his physical-therapy exercises in his home gym as soon as he’d noticed who was calling. Now the stillness in his apartment on this weekday morning enveloped him. His heart pounded hard against the walls of his chest. Marv’s answer had the potential to change his life. If he were already a father, any future—with or without Sera—would be more complicated and a big departure from his life up to now.
He’d agreed to take a paternity test but had told Marv to hire a private investigator and get back to him once they had a fuller story. He could tell a moment of reckoning was upon him.
“I can say with certainty you’re not the father. It’s not just the paternity test, but other information that’s come to light.”
Jordan took a deep breath and lowered his shoulders, the tension whooshing out of him like air from a punctured balloon. Then he silently cursed.
His life had been a roller coaster recently. On top of everything else, Lauren Zummen had given a salacious interview to Gossipmonger about their meeting and her subsequent pregnancy.
Jordan winced just thinking about Sera reading that piece. Not that he’d seen her. Bernice had reassigned him to another physical therapist, and he didn’t have to ask why.
“Jordan?”
“Yeah, I’m here.”
“Lauren wasn’t pregnant.”
Jordan paced around the gym, wandering aimlessly. “What? How can that be?”
“Her identical twin is the mother of the baby. It took some digging, but the private investigator checked records and talked to people in the small town near Albany that Lauren grew up in.”
“What?” He was outraged. “How did they think they were going to get away with this?”
“They weren’t. But maybe they’d get a lucrative payment or two from the gossip press for their story and some fame.”
“I’m surprised they didn’t go for the old-fashioned blackmail route,” Jordan remarked drily, curbing another surge of anger. “You know, make me pay hush money.”
“Too risky. They’re smart enough to know you could have called their bluff and gotten law enforcement involved. The end result woul
d have been a jail sentence.”
Jordan tightened his hold on the receiver. “We’ve got to get the facts out there. At least the fact that I’m not the father.”
“I know, I know.”
“Wait until Gossipmonger finds out they may have paid for a false story.”
“The women are identical twins. They can easily come up with some explanation for why they told the story that they did. Given the timing, you couldn’t be ruled out as the father. And the women could claim that they swapped identities three years ago for some reason. That the one you met called herself Lauren but was actually her identical twin, and you didn’t know it. The possibilities are endless.” His agent paused. “Anything to keep the payments they might have received.”
“You’ve got some insight into the criminal mind,” Jordan joked.
“Well, I’ve been talking to the private investigator, and I’ve been in the business of representing famous people for a long time.”
Jordan took a moment to compose himself. “Thanks, Marv. For everything.”
The older man gave a dry chuckle. “It’s what I do. A sports agent’s work is never done. But for the record, you’ve been a lot easier to work with than some of my other clients. No secret plastic surgery, no sex tape, no drugs.”
“Great for the endorsement deals and the contract that are coming up for negotiation.”
“Yup.”
“I’m a veritable angel.”
Marv chuckled. “Go enjoy the rest of your life, Jordan. If your physical therapist keeps working wonders, we’ll be in a good bargaining position.”
After he hung up with his agent, Jordan reflected on Marv’s last words.
Go enjoy the rest of your life. Marv’s news today should have lifted the heavy cloud he’d been under, but somehow he still felt dejected and incomplete.
Jordan raked his hand through his hair and cast a glance around the room. He hadn’t bothered mentioning to Marv that Sera was no longer his physical therapist.
She’d worked wonders on him all right, though, and not just with his knee.
He was changed. She’d changed him.
Because he loved her.
With a cooler head, and without the issue of possible paternity clouding his judgment, he acknowledged that, given her past experience with men, Sera might easily have felt betrayed by his not initially sharing certain allegations with her. Instead, she’d found out the story from a paparazzo.
He was not that much better than Neil, whoever he was. And wherever the other guy was, Jordan wanted to plant his fist in his face.
Jordan figured his own playboy past hadn’t helped him in gaining Sera’s trust. He hadn’t even remembered their spring-break encounter at the beach, though she definitely had. But he wasn’t the same guy he’d been in his twenties or at the beginning of his relationship with Sera—or even a few weeks ago when he’d been brushing off Marc Bellitti’s teasing at the Puck & Shoot.
He’d closed himself off from deep involvement—wanting to have fun at the height of his fame and fortune. But Sera was different. She’d challenged him and made him think about the man he was behind the facade of the well-known professional athlete—until his only choice had been to kiss her and fall all the way in love with her.
Crap. His long-standing rule of keeping to casual relationships hadn’t protected him—from a gold digger, a paternity claim or anything else. And now, with Sera, he hadn’t just broken his rule, he’d exploded it with dynamite. By falling in love with a woman who currently wanted nothing to do with him.
He had to do something about that.
* * *
The Puck & Shoot was familiar territory, so it was ridiculous to be tense. She knew that booth two had a rip in its seat cushion and that table four had a chip on its corner. She’d been here a million times.
Except she’d agreed to help out Angus again—and Jordan Serenghetti had just parked himself at table four. Alone.
He looked healthier and stronger than ever. Firm jaw, perfect profile, dark hair that she’d run her fingers through while moaning with desire...
Damn it.
She’d underestimated the power of his appeal. The time that they’d spent apart had either dulled her memory or whetted her appetite.
Still, she tried to draw strength from the crowded environment. At least they weren’t completely by themselves.
Sure, she’d been doing some thinking since that night at the movie theater, but seeing him here now was sudden and she wasn’t prepared. She expected him to be keeping a low profile with the gossip in the press, and Angus had assured her that he hadn’t seen Jordan in a while.
Jordan turned, and his gaze locked with hers.
Steeling herself, notepad at the ready, she approached. “Are you ready to order?”
Her voice sounded rusty to her own ears. This was beyond awkward. Only the fact that she had a job to do kept her moving forward. When they’d parted, accusations had flown and feelings had been hurt. She’d nursed a bruised heart.
“Sera.”
Not Angel. Why was he sitting alone when a few of his teammates were at the bar? “What do you want?”
The words fell between them, full of meaning. Then recovering, she nodded at the menu.
“I want to explain.”
Flustered, she looked around them. “This isn’t the time or place.”
“It’s beyond time, and it’s the perfect place.” One side of his mouth lifted in a smile. “And unless you conk me on the head with a menu, I’m in great shape.”
She perused him. Unfortunately for her, he was as attractive as ever. Square jaw, laughing eyes, hot body. And Bernice had mentioned that he was continuing to recover well—though Sera had made a point of not asking.
“Fortunately for you,” she sniffed, “I’d hate for my hard work in whipping you into shape to be undone.”
Jordan laughed, and Sera crossed her arms.
“You have made me better,” he said softly. “In more ways than one.”
Sera swallowed and dropped her arms. Ugh. He could make her mad one minute and want to cry the next.
She glanced around, making sure they weren’t drawing attention. “I wish you the best of luck sorting things out with...” She didn’t know what to say. Your baby mama? Ex-lover? Former one-night stand?
Her heart squeezed, and she felt short of air. All she could manage were shallow breaths.
“I have.”
She blinked. “What?”
He looked at her steadily. “I have sorted things out.”
“Oh?”
He nodded. “I should have told you right away about the rumors.” He paused. “I’m sorry.”
She waved an arm dismissively, suddenly emotional and looking anywhere but at him. “Oh...”
He reached into the pocket of his jeans. “The results of the paternity test came back.”
She looked down at the papers in his hand uncomprehendingly, her brain frozen.
“The child isn’t mine.”
Her gaze flew up to his.
“Lauren isn’t even the mother.”
Beyond the roaring in her ears, she barely made out Jordan’s explanation.
“Thanks to Marv, the press should be posting corrected news stories as we speak.” He smiled ruefully. “The gossip sites love a story with unexpected twists and turns.”
“How can Lauren not even be the mother?” she asked, dumbfounded.
“Her twin sister is.”
“How did they think they’d get away with this?”
Jordan’s expression darkened. “That was my question. They had to know they’d eventually be found out, but maybe not before they received a fat payment or two to print a juicy story.”
Feeling a tremor, she dropped her notepad on the table. “For the record, it do
esn’t matter. I already made up my mind that whether you were a father already or not was beside the point.”
“Sera, I love you.”
What? She’d pitched a revelation at him, and he’d hit it right back. And then, because it was all too much and she couldn’t think of what else to say, she blurted, “Why should I believe you?”
Jordan stood up and moved closer. “Because you love me, too.”
He said it so casually, she almost didn’t process the words.
She blinked against a well of emotion and lifted her chin. “Does it matter? You’re still...who you are, and I’m who I am.”
“And who am I?” he queried, his voice low. “I’m a changed man—”
She opened her mouth.
“—especially since my casual remarks here to Marc Bellitti.” He looked contrite.
They both knew which remarks he was referring to.
“At the time, it still seemed safer to play the game, or try to, rather than acknowledge the truth.”
“Which is?”
“I love you.” He glanced around them and then signaled the bartender.
Sera’s eyes grew round. Now they were really creating a scene. “What are you doing? I have to take the order at my next table.”
A slight smile curved Jordan’s lips. “Already taken care of.” He signaled again to someone across the room. “Angus has you covered with another waiter.”
“He’s short-staffed!”
“Not anymore he isn’t. Another employee just stepped out of the back room.”
Sera snapped her mouth shut. “You planned—”
“Let’s just say Angus is a romantic at heart who’s happy to lend a helping hand.”
“He called me in when he didn’t need me.”
“I need you,” Jordan said, looking into her eyes. “I’ve had a chance to sort out my priorities lately. And I’ve figured out what’s important to me besides the career and whether I recover from my injury.”
After he gave a sign to the bartender, the music was turned off, and everyone stopped talking. In the sudden stillness, Jordan raised his voice. “I’d like everyone’s attention.”
Bewildered and worried for him—was it fever? A momentary bout of insanity?—Sera leaned close and whispered, “What are you doing?”