Call Me Wild
Page 30
Ben put his arm around his wife.
Andrew smiled at Ben and then looked back at Gina. “No, really, it’s not a pickup line. You look so familiar. Where’d you grow up?”
“New York.”
“I know what it is. It’s the eyes. Hey, Jessie, doesn’t Gina look just like my friend Angel Anderson?”
“Angel? You mean the pitcher from the Jersey Jackals?”
“Yeah, that’s him. He’s my mom’s best friend’s son. I swear, you have the same eyes. They look copper when the sun hits them. I’ve never seen that before. I spent a few summers hanging out with Angel and getting paid for it. He was too old for a nanny and too young to get around by himself. We used to go sailing—he’s a great kid, and now he’s playing minor league baseball. Needless to say, his parents aren’t happy. They sent the kid to Princeton, and instead of getting a real job, he joined a minor league team. Personally, I’m proud of him. There will be plenty of time to put his education to work for him.”
Gina’s eyes went wide. “Do you have a picture of him?”
They had the attention of the whole room now. Jessie looked from Gina to Fisher before answering. “Andrew, isn’t he in that one of me throwing out the first pitch?”
“Yeah… I think so.”
It was apparent that Gina’s interest was making Andrew nervous.
Fisher shook his head. “Andrew, Gina’s little brother was given up for adoption when he was newborn, and she’s been looking for him. It was a private adoption, so it hasn’t been easy.”
Gina nodded. “I realize it’s a long shot, but right about now, any news is welcome. How old is he?”
“Um… I don’t know. Twenty-two or twenty-three. I never asked, but I always assumed Angel was adopted. He’s dark and Hispanic, and his parents are fair-haired Caucasian. Maybe you’re related or something. You just never know.”
Karma smiled at Andrew. “You certainly don’t.”
Karma looked over to Trapper, who stood off on his own, so solitary—the family Rock of Gibraltar. She wondered who he leaned on when his world went to hell. But then, she’d never seen it happen. Hmm… He’d been a bit of a downer for the last two weeks, since he came back from one of his frequent seventy-two-hour excursions. Interesting…
Fisher kissed Jessica, and the two of them practically glowed. “My work here is done.” Karma turned around. “I’m off to Humpin’ Hannah’s. See you at eight for the party.” She waved and walked out the door. “Karma has left the building.”
Acknowledgments
Writing is a solitary endeavor, but a writer’s life isn’t. I’m lucky to have the love and support of my incredible family. My husband, Stephen, who after twenty-two years of marriage, is still the man of my dreams. My children, Tony, Anna, and Isabelle, who in spite of being teenagers, are my favorite people to hang out with. They make me laugh, amaze me with their intelligence and generosity, and make me proud every day.
My parents, Richard Williams and Ann Feiler, and my stepfather George Feiler, who always encouraged me, and continue to do so.
My wonderful critique partners Deborah Villegas and Laura Becraft. They shortened my sentences, corrected my grammar, and put commas where they needed to be. They listened to me whine when my muse took a vacation, gave me great ideas when I was stuck, and answered that all-important question: Does this suck? They help me plot, love my characters almost as much as I do, and push-challenge me to be a better writer. They are wonderful friends, talented writers, and the sisters of my heart.
I owe a debt of gratitude to their families, who so graciously let me borrow them during my deadline crunch. So, to Robert, Joe, Elisabeth, and Ben Becraft, and Ruben, Alexander, Donovan, and Cristian Villegas, you have my thanks and eternal gratitude.
I’d also like to thank my other critique partners who are always there when I need a fresh eye—Grace Burrowes, Hope Ramsay, and April Line.
I wrote most of this book in the Carlisle Crossing Starbucks, and I have to thank all my baristas for keeping me in laughter and coffee while my computer and I camped out in their store. They were always there for me when I was searching for the right word or falling asleep at my computer. I don’t think I could have written this book without them. I also need to thank a few of the customers who have become wonderful friends: Dana and Steven Gossert, and Alan Monahan, for giving me an excuse not to write.
As always, I have to thank my wonderful agent Kevan Lyon for all she does, my team at Sourcebooks, my editor Deb Werksman, and my publicist Beth Pehlke.
About the Author
Robin Kaye was born in Brooklyn, New York, and grew up in the shadow of the Brooklyn Bridge next door to her Sicilian grandparents. Living with an extended family that’s a cross between Gilligan’s Island and The Sopranos, minus the desert isle and illegal activities, explains both her comedic timing and the cast of quirky characters in her books.
She’s lived in half a dozen states, from Idaho to Florida, but the romance of Brooklyn has never left her heart. She currently resides in Maryland with her husband, three children, two dogs, and a three-legged cat with attitude.
Robin would love to hear from you. Visit her website at www.robinkayewrites.com. Or email her at robin@robinkayewrites.com.