Quarterback Daddy

by Linda Barrett

  “I got over that quickly, Andrew. She’s not Kim. My wife would never have concocted a scheme like this woman has.”

  ALEXIS WHIPPED OUT HER business cards and offered one to Dan’s friend. He took it. “A scheme, gentlemen? I think not. My professional reputation is on the line.” The best defense was always an offense.

  She extended her hand to Romano. “Alexis Brown, D.A.’s office, although I’m here on personal business. I’m sure Mr. Delito has filled you in.” She allowed a question to remain in her voice.

  “I’d like to hear it from you,” replied the lawyer.

  She summarized the situation. “And of course, the point is moot without a DNA test. Which is why I’m here.”

  “Your reasons wouldn’t include cold cash, would they?” asked Dan. “As in extortion? Or on behalf of the tabloids? The gossip rags? I understand they pay a fortune for stories.”

  His sarcasm hit her like a blow to the gut, and she almost staggered backward. “On my sister’s life,” she said with quiet dignity, “I haven’t shared this information with anyone. Not even with Michelle’s social worker.”

  She ignored Delito and addressed the other attorney. “I suggest we arrange the DNA test privately without a court order.” Her eyes rested on the now-sleeping baby. “Michelle and I…well, we don’t need another news article. We don’t want publicity any more than your client does.”

  Romano nodded, but Dan wouldn’t stay ignored. “Damn right, we’re doing it privately.” He glanced at the baby. “She’s a cute kid, but I’m not taking her on unless she’s one hundred percent mine.”

  “That’s absolutely fair, Mr. Delito. My interest is in child support from the real father. So if the test turns out not to be a match, then you’ll never see me or the baby again.”

  “I’ll arrange for the team doc and a lab tech to come to Dan’s house,” said Romano. “You’ll hear from me by tomorrow afternoon. We’ll take a swab from the baby, of course, but we’ll also want a sample from you, Ms. Brown, to verify your relationship to Michelle. Nothing personal, but celebrities are easy targets.”

  “No problem. I’m her auntie.” She glanced toward the window. “It looks like rain. I’ve got to leave.”

  “Andy will give you a ride home,” said Dan quickly, with a meaningful glance at his friend.

  She rattled off her address. “Don’t play games with me. If you want to know where I live, just ask. I said I have nothing to hide, and I meant it.” She buttoned her coat, zipped Michelle’s bunting bag and tucked the blanket around her. “Good evening, gentlemen. We’re done here.” She headed for the door.

  “I insist on giving you a lift,” said Romano. “My car’s right outside.”

  “Thanks. But I’m used to public transportation.”

  “Don’t be stubborn,” said Dan. “Think of the baby. It’s cold now.” He turned to his friend. “See what I mean? She’s not like Kim at all.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  WAS HE OR WASN’T HE a dad? The DNA swab had been taken on Thursday, and on the field for a Friday practice, Dan’s concentration was shot. A bad thing with a game in Philly on Sunday. The Philadelphia Eagles would be ready for them—ready and eager to take them down. But his thoughts kept swirling. He threw the ball like a robot and monitored the field with only a tiny portion of his brain, as though he were watching himself play from afar.

  Besides the baby question…there was Alexis Brown. Stubborn, intelligent, bold. And beautiful. Like a chess player, she’d figured out all his moves in advance, covering her shapely ass, anticipating his objections. Not even the presence of his lawyer had shaken her. And in the end, she’d gotten her wish. He’d been suckered into a paternity test.

  “Hey, Delito!”

  Dan spun around to see Sean Callan, his personal coach, trotting up to him.

  “Where’s your head right now?”

  “Sorry, Coach. I’m with you.”

  “The hell you are.” Callan nodded toward the team. “They’re starting to worry about you. Were you drinking last night?”

  Startled, Dan stepped back. The guys knew he kept sober on the weekends. “Not a friggin’ drop. And I know the playbook cold.” Fifty running plays, two hundred passing plays. All choreographed and in his head. Usually. But today…

  “Then prove it. Philly wants our blood. If you can’t cut it, Rick won’t let you start, despite that magic arm of yours. And what am I going to tell him?” he asked, referring to the team’s head coach.

  “You won’t need to tell him anything.” Dan jogged to his receiving line. “Pass patterns, guys.” Then he called to Sean. “Where’s the blindfold?”

  The men started to grin. This was the Dan they loved. The Dan they wanted. He knew it, and he wanted it, too. He wanted the respect, the love, the wins. Now they’d have tough fun with exact pass patterns. The players always said that with so much practice, they could run pass patterns in their sleep. A blindfold was the next best thing.

  Suddenly, the entire offensive coaching staff was there. Offensive coordinator, and the offensive line coach with head coach, Rick Thompson, watching everyone. Seemed like the whole organization was interested in the skills of Dan Delito.

  Dan glanced at Al Tucker. “Five-step-right. Be there.” They formed a line of scrimmage at the thirty-yard hash mark. Dan put on the blindfold, called the play, ran his steps and threw the ball. He pulled the eye cover off quickly, in time to see the ball fly right at Tucker’s chest. The receiver made a perfect catch and ran with it to the end zone. Fun with no opponents.

  Cheers went up, good sounds, solid sounds. Confident sounds.

  “What are you all standing around for?” he called. “The coaches are waiting.”

  Either he was or he wasn’t a daddy, and he’d find out on Monday, after the Philly game. Right now, however, he had a job to do.

  THE SPECIAL DELIVERY LETTER arrived at Alexis’s house at 9:00 a.m. Monday morning. Dan’s phone call came at 9:10.

  “When can you get over here? We need to talk.”

  Her hand trembled, holding the letter. She was still staring at it, and had been for the entire ten minutes. “Maybe tomorrow,” she blurted. “I need time to get my mind around this.”

  “Ms. Brown—you’ve had three months to ‘get your mind around it.’I’m the one still reeling. For crying out loud—this news changes my whole life!”

  “In a good way or a bad way?” she asked, wishing she could see his expression.

  “Hmm…I guess that remains to be seen. Is she a good kid?”

  “I think I’ll save the congratulations,” she muttered.

  “Say again? I couldn’t hear you.”

  “Never mind. It’s just that theory is different from reality,” she said. “The results are real, and I need time to adjust, also. I’ll call you tomorrow.” And she hung up.

  Not her most professional moment, but she’d had no idea the truth would slam her with such force. Make her insecurities shoot skyward. The baby…the baby! What if he simply took her away? She’d been counting on a shared arrangement. Split custody, with Dan providing the funds for child care while she provided the baby with the real home. She’d agree to some weekend arrangement or midweek arrangement for him—whatever worked with his schedule.

  But now he was the proven father. Suddenly, the word took on incredible power. How powerful was an aunt? Would Alexis now need her own lawyer to represent her interests? To ensure her presence in Michelle’s life?

  The phone rang again, and she answered it, feeling as tense as when waiting for a jury verdict.

  “Don’t hang up.”

  She tapped her fingers on the table. Be nice. Be friendly. You need his cooperation. “Okay. I’m still with you.”

  “I need your cooperation, Ms. Brown,” he began, strangely echoing her own thought. “In fact, we need a little teamwork here.”

  “In all due respect, Mr. Delito, I think I’ve already done my part. I’ve just given you the—the most wonderful gi
ft in the world.” Her throat tightened on swallowed sobs. “What more can you possibly want?”

  He didn’t hesitate. “Your silence—until the organization and I figure out how to release the news without harm done to anyone.”

  “What organization? Harm? To whom?”

  “You’re a smart woman, so I’ll let you figure that out,” he said, his voice patient, calm. “Three, two, one—” he counted.

  “Football.”

  “Knew you’d make the connection.”

  But of course. The New England Patriots. The NFL. Little by little, she was beginning to acknowledge that she was dealing with another world right now, a thousand miles out of her league. However, she wasn’t out of the game.

  “Mr. Delito, I’m sure you understand I care only about Michelle’s well-being. A baby is not nurtured by a committee or an ‘organization.’ She’s nurtured by people who love her. You’re a big boy. You can handle the rest of it. She is safe and sound with me.”

  Her career was safe. Her office already knew about Alexis being Michelle’s custodian. No problems there.

  “Safe and sound? I hope so. For the baby’s sake, keep your mouth shut or you’ll have photographers at your door before lunchtime.”

  Silence pounded her ears while his words sank in. She would never, ever call the newspapers, but he was absolutely correct. They’d find her. In Boston, Dan Delito carried the same fame as a Hollywood movie star. In fact, he was sure to be famous on the West Coast, too.

  “Oh-h-h…”

  “Now do you get it?” he asked quietly.

  She sighed. “I get it.”

  “Ms. Brown,” he began again. “Alexis—listen hard. I know you’re a smart lawyer who deals with a lot of people with complicated problems. But you’ve got no experience with aggressive paparazzi. I went through this when my wife died. Headlines everywhere. They were sympathetic, but I was under a microscope anyway. And the situation we have now is, shall we say, nastier. It has salacious overtones, perfect for gossip and melodrama. Frankly, it doesn’t get juicier than murder and suicide.”

  Nice speech, but he was wrong about some things. “Have you forgotten the clipping I showed you at your house, Mr. Delito? My name was in it, too.”

  “Call me Dan. At this point, we’re a team.”

  Not really, but she said, “Okay, Dan. Unfortunately, I’ve also been in the papers regarding cases I’ve handled. And I agree with you. I didn’t like it, but it goes with the territory. So, I won’t say a word—Oh, dammit! I just remembered—Roz, the social worker, is coming today.”

  “Cancel the visit,” he responded. “And do it now. Then call me back. I need to know about social workers, about doctors. I need to know everything that’s happened since the baby’s birth.” This time, he was the one who disconnected.

  Alexis still hadn’t told Roz about her search for Dan Delito, the possible father who was now the confirmed father. Speculation helped no one. But now, even in her overwrought state, she knew his identity had larger implications. If she revealed Dan Delito’s involvement, could her new friend keep it confidential? Not that Roz would intentionally gossip, but it would go into her report, into a computer. Once others in her office knew, all of Boston would know—and then all of America.

  Was that fair to Dan? To Michelle? Or even to her? Her stomach flip-flopped. She, herself, might be the target of gossip all over her office. Suddenly, her strong safety net seemed frayed, the mesh ripped with holes. Her request for family leave, which was almost over, might be looked on with suspicion. Quarterback Dan Delito was a wealthy man. He could have afforded a slew of child-care providers. And now the story would hit the papers. Not good. Dan was right. It was better to control the news than be victimized by a leak.

  Okay. Her brain was working again. One step at a time. She picked up the phone.

  “Roz, hi. It’s Alexis. I think I’m coming down with a nasty cold. Could we postpone our visit until later this week? So sorry for the last-minute notice.”

  She listened to advice about face masks and chicken soup, and felt guilty about her white lie. Roz had become as close a friend as Alexis had ever had. She hoped the woman would later agree that the circumstances had been extraordinary. Extraordinary enough to warrant a little deception.

  DAN KNEW ONLY ENOUGH about babies to realize they were a lot of trouble. A lot of work. But that would come later. Now, he should call his lawyer, his agent, his coach, the head coach, the club’s owner—all of his businesspeople—and, of course, his family. Mama mia, his mother! His dad. But as he waited for Alexis to call him back, he sat in his kitchen, immobile, thinking only about the baby…and the baby’s aunt.

  The woman haunted him every time he had a minute to relax. And then he’d think about Kim. The two women were physically similar only at first glance. Their true resemblance was revealed when Alexis showed her love for that baby. When she nuzzled the infant, her features softened, and her sweetness overflowed. In those special moments, his heart almost stopped and Kim’s name rose to his tongue. So far, he’d been able to clamp his jaw shut. But he’d never forgotten how Kim had yearned to be a mom.

  He had no doubt that the lawyer loved her niece, so he wouldn’t shut her out. He’d allow her to visit him and the baby from time to time—after he figured out how to become a little family with Michelle. A family. Kim should have been part of this family. She should have had the chance. A child would have been the most fantastic touchdown in their personal lives.

  Damn, he needed a drink.

  He reached into the fridge for a brewski, then glanced at his watch and groaned. Too early—even he knew that. He slammed the refrigerator door, felt beads of sweat pop out on his skin. He wanted that beer. Time to change focus.

  The woman hadn’t phoned him back yet. Ten minutes was enough time for a quick call to the social worker. He glanced at Alexis’s business card and punched in her number again. Next step was to enter it into his cell’s autodial.

  “Alexis Brown.”

  “What’s wrong?” Her voice sounded funny. Nasal. As if she’d been crying.

  “Nothing. What do you want?”

  “You were supposed to call me back. How did you make out with the social worker?”

  “She believed me, but I hate lying.”

  At least Alexis wasn’t crying anymore. “I’m coming over to your place. Let me in when I buzz.”

  “Have you called…whoever it is you need to call?”

  “No. No one.” He probably should, but he was going with his gut right now, following his instincts as he did a lot in the game. Independent judgment trumped prearranged plans more often than people would imagine.

  But now all he said was, “We need to—to talk. To figure things out first.” Like figure out if he was happy about being a father or not.

  “I guess we can’t meet at the Frog Pond or in the Gardens…?” Her voice was wishful and came slowly, as though she were thinking out loud.

  “Sorry, not if we want privacy. Notice that I’m willing to meet on your turf.” It had taken time, but he’d become used to arranging his life partly for the public and partly for himself. With the DNA test behind him, he could afford to be generous and go to Alexis’s apartment.

  “Of course,” she said. “No Frog Pond. You’re too well-known, and we definitely do want privacy. I’ll make some coffee or something.”

  “Don’t bother, Alexis. It’s not exactly a social visit.”

  He heard her gasp and immediately knew he’d said the wrong thing.

  “Do you consider meeting your daughter a business transaction, Mr. Delito?”

  “Of course not. And I said to call me Dan. Let’s back up a step. Maybe we do need a little time to digest everything, and I sure need time in the hot tub. How about one o’clock? I’ll come over then.”

  She readily agreed, and he hung up. It wasn’t a very auspicious beginning, though. She sounded as if she’d been reprieved from a hanging.

  HE WAS BIGGER
THAN SHE remembered him, full of energy, full of power, and way too handsome with a lock of dark hair hanging over his forehead. If she’d met him at a party, she would have danced with him—as long as he wasn’t drinking.

  “No limp today,” she said. “Hot tub must have worked. Have a seat.” Chatter, chatter, nervous chatter.

  “Nice place you’ve got,” he said, scanning the apartment. “Spacious. They did a good job with the conversion. And they saved the brickwork.”

  Funny how he immediately identified her favorite part of the house. The brick made the open space feel warm and cozy.

  “It was the top selling point when I decided to buy the place,” she said.

  “So, you own? Not rent?”

  She nodded. “With a heavy mortgage, but it’s mine.”

  “Ergo, no car.”

  She waved his words away. “On the trains I’m only two stops away from the Common and the Gardens and just as close to my office. Why would I bother with a car?”

  “To cart the baby around more easily?”

  “Don’t underestimate the power of a devoted aunt,” she replied, meeting his gaze. Then she wished she hadn’t.

  His eyes narrowed, his brow furrowed. His big hands now rested on his hips. A power stance.

  Maybe she should have called Roz. She hated being in a weak position. So she squared her shoulders and stood taller.

  “Speaking of…” he said. “Where’s the baby?”

  “‘The baby’ has a name. Why don’t you try using it?”

  He studied her before replying. “And why are you so snippy with me? The Brown part of her name is going to change. That’s for sure.”

  Well, that was the easiest thing to accept. Alexis glanced at the man with the determined expression. Seemed he’d done a lot of thinking in the last few hours, and she tried bracing herself for a slew of other changes that were sure to come. She’d handle them all and make Dan happy, as long as her life with Michelle remained intact.

  She led him into her bedroom, where she’d converted one corner into a nursery. Quietly, they approached the crib. Michelle lay on her back, eyes closed, sound asleep. Alexis watched her little chest move up and down and relaxed. Sometimes, at night, she’d put her fingers under the baby’s nose just to make sure she was breathing. She often wondered if every new mother did the same.