He jotted down the information and shoved his pad into his shirt pocket. “I’ll follow it up and get back to you. In the meantime, the forensics guys will run the information they collected. I’d appreciate it if you came by at your earliest convenience, okay?”
“She’ll be there,” Uncle Yank called from down the hall.
The cop shot her a sympathetic look.
“I’ll come by,” she promised.
“Thank you.” The officer gestured to the rest of his team, who’d almost finished packing up. “We’ll be in touch, folks. And Ms. Jordan?”
She inclined her head. “Yes?”
“Try not to go out alone.”
S
OPHIE COULDN
’
T BEAR
to remain in her office. The crews worked on fixing her door, which had also been broken, and cleaning up the broken glass. She headed for the small kitchenette, poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down at the little table and chairs in the room.
“May an old man join you?” Spencer stepped inside and pulled out a chair.
She gestured for him to sit. “Since when do you go around calling yourself old?” she asked the handsome man.
“Since I started feeling that way.”
She wrapped her hands around the hot mug. “And would that have anything to do with the news hitting the papers?”
“Actually, it started when my son told me he wanted nothing to do with me.” He bowed his head in dismay.
Sophie sighed. “Are you upset because he wants you to keep your distance or because you finally realize what you put him through all those years?” she asked softly.
A smile lifted his lips. “You’re too smart for my own good,” he said, laughing.
“What can I say? It’s easier to figure out other people’s problems than my own.” She stared into the muddy coffee. Somebody had to teach Nicki how to measure coffee grounds before they overdosed on caffeine. “Spencer?”
“What’s on your mind?” His hazel eyes, so much like Riley’s, stared into hers.
“I owe you an apology.” She said what had been on her mind since she’d seen him at the police station in Florida. “I had no right to judge you or the decisions you made. I couldn’t begin to guess what you were feeling back then.”
He reached out and squeezed her hand. “No need to apologize. I was an ass then and now, to quote one of your uncle’s favorite phrases.”
“Still, I am sorry.” When Spencer had stepped up and taken responsibility with the police, assuming the break-in had been related to him and his issues, Sophie had seen how seriously he took his role as a protector of the people he cared about.
She’d seen him make decisions for his clients that were in their best interests, not his own. She should have trusted in Spencer and his motives regarding his son. It wasn’t for her to criticize him. She wondered if it was too much to hope that one day Riley would come to feel the same way.
“So this is where you two are hiding.” Yank stood in the doorway. “Sophie, they want you in your office.”
She stood and paused to hug Spencer before heading to deal with the mayhem once more.
S
PENCER WATCHED
Sophie leave the room and his best friend take her seat. He was grateful to these people who’d given him unconditional love and acceptance, even after he’d kept a huge secret from them—a secret that could destroy their business, their livelihood, their worlds.
Okay, so that was an exaggeration, but lately everything that had happened felt huge. Larger than life, almost. Devastatingly awful in some ways, and in others, too good to be true. Like his best friend and partner not holding his omission against him. In fact, Yank hadn’t once demanded to know why Spencer hadn’t shared the truth. Instead Yank had given Spencer a pat on the back along with his unwavering support. Humbling, for certain, Spencer thought.
Yank settled himself into the chair. He seemed more agile now than immediately after he’d broken his hip, but he was still more fragile than he had been before. Not that he’d admit it and not that Spencer would mention the fact. Yank was too damn proud for his own good.
“Are you feeling okay?” Spencer asked.
Yank slowly straightened in his seat. “I’m just fine.”
“Good. So we’re still on schedule for this weekend?” Spencer and Yank had planned on keeping John Cashman too busy to think about Miguel Cambias on this weekend before the draft. They’d wine him, dine him, arrange interviews for him and they’d be by his side all the way, giving him no time to fall under their opponent’s spell.
“We’re on, all right, but with everything that’s happened around here, I’m worried ’bout leaving Sophie alone.”
Spencer nodded in understanding. He’d thought about the same thing. “Send her to Annabelle’s for the weekend.”
“Annie’s going with Vaughn to speak at a college in Massachusetts.”
“Can Lola watch over her?”
Yank snickered. “Like Sophie would accept a babysitter? Besides I already suggested it, and Lola wants to do it, but her aunt’s in the hospital and she’s going to oversee her care until she moves to a rehab center.”
Spencer rubbed his palms against his eyes. “When did getting one damn guy through the draft become so difficult?”
“Since dirtbags like Cambias began sneaking around.”
“Well, we’ll show Cashman our proposal this weekend. I’ve got a draft of a five-year plan that includes salary and savings. He also needs to hire a financial advisor, because if he lets his father run his income the way he’s been running his life, chances are it’ll all go on moonshine before his first season’s out,” Spencer said, reciting what he’d been thinking since his last meeting with Cashman.
“That’s what happens when a kid’s mama dies too young. He ends up relying on the adult influence in his life and copying their habits, for better or for worse.” Yank’s eyes glazed over as he obviously withdrew into himself.
“You’re talking about you and the girls, aren’t you?” Spencer had been Yank’s closest friend since before he’d become their guardian. He’d seen what a solid job Yank had done with the “little women” as he’d called them. Spencer had also seen his friend struggle within himself to come to terms with the commitment. Yank couldn’t turn the girls out, but being responsible for them had scared him to death. So he’d pushed Lola away instead.
Heaven only knows why Lola had remained by his side all these years, but she had. Until she’d finally given him an ultimatum and even then Yank Morgan hadn’t come around and admitted he both needed and loved her. At least not right away. Yank wasn’t known as a stubborn bastard for no good reason, Spencer thought.
He met his friend’s gaze.
Yank scrubbed his hand over his unshaven face. “You’re lookin’ at me like you have me all figured out.”
Spencer grinned. “You think I don’t?”
“That still don’t change the fact that I’m worried about Sophie and not just because she needs someone to watch out for her.”
“Yank,” Spencer said, a clear warning in his tone. The other man had already caused Sophie enough trouble.
“I owe it to her to see she finds the right match.”
His tone was insistent and Spencer knew better than to think he’d talk him out of it. Still, he gave it one last shot. “I suppose it would be too much to hope that you’ve learned your lesson after your last attempt at matchmaking?”
“I haven’t decided yet,” Yank muttered.
Spencer figured it was only a matter of time before Yank came up with another crazy plan and he steeled himself for what lay ahead. He silently promised he’d guide Yank so he caused the least amount of damage to the niece he loved. Well, Spencer thought, at least he now had a focus beyond self-pity.
Yank frowned. “Don’t tell me you didn’t do the same thing when you hooked me up with Riley all those years ago. You looked out for your kid same as I want to look out for mine.”
Well, there he had it. The means to guide Yank and help Sophie. He’d be no better than Yank if he acted on the idea spinning around in his mind, but he couldn’t stop the words from flowing. Even if he knew he’d regret the admission to Yank.
“Riley’s a good match for Sophie,” Spencer said. “I saw them together in Florida and they definitely clicked.” And Spencer would love to see Riley with a woman as loving as Sophie.
Yank bolted upright from his chair, faster than he’d moved in ages. He pulled Spencer’s head against his chest and kissed him square on the crown. “You are the best friend a guy could have. Lola!” he bellowed.
Spencer rolled his eyes toward the ceiling, then smoothed his hair with his hand.
“What’s wrong? Who’s sick? Do you need an ambulance?” Lola practically skidded to a halt as she ran into the room.
“Spencer said Riley’s a perfect match for Sophie. How do you like that?” Yank asked proudly.
Lola reached for a newspaper left lying on the table, rolled it and smacked Yank on the top of his head. “You screamed so loud I thought someone had a heart attack!”
“Someone nearly did. When I heard the news, I knew we had the answer to all of our problems.”
“Oh good Lord. Remind me why I married you again?”
Spencer snickered.
Yank ignored him. “Lola, baby, you eloped with me and when you did, I promised you a big old party when we returned, remember?”
She visibly inhaled, searching for a way to calm down. “And what does that have to do with Sophie and Riley? Because I know you, Yank Morgan, and you have an agenda. You always do,” she said, calmer and obviously resigned.
After years with Yank, she’d perfected dealing with him, Spencer thought. He envied them the easy give and take of their relationship. Sometimes he even wondered now that he wasn’t hiding anything, if he’d find a companion of his own.
“Once your aunt’s settled, I want you to plan our party. We can even renew our vows in front of friends and family like we talked about on the ship. Spare no expense and throw a huge bash,” he said, waving his arms in enthusiasm.
“And?” Lola prodded. “Get to the real point.”
“It’s obvious. Get Sophie involved in the planning. Give her a wedding and some romance to focus on instead of all the bad stuff happening around here. Just make Sophie itch for happily ever after. That’s not so hard, is it?”
“No, Yank. It’s not hard at all. But I don’t think Sophie’s going to appreciate being manipulated.” Lola propped her hands on her hips.
Spencer had watched the byplay without saying a word. Until now. “She’s got a point. And the girl’s smart, Yank. She’s going to know something’s up.”
“Only if Lola let’s on. Which she won’t because she doesn’t want Sophie upset. So, Lola, you have your instructions. Spencer and I will handle the rest.”
“Oh, swell. The two great minds of the Western World teaming up to matchmake. We already had a floral shop in this office and a break-in. I wonder what can happen next?”
Spencer narrowed his eyes. “Oh please don’t group me in with his shenanigans.”
Yank waved them away with a dismissive hand. “I meant
I’ll
handle the rest.” He reached for the phone and dialed. “Riley? It’s your agent. I need to talk to you so get your ass down to my office immediately.” He hung up before Riley could reply.
Spencer rose, his muscles suddenly stiff, his heart suddenly hurting. “I think this is where I make my exit,” he said, trying to sound light when he felt weighted down.
“Spencer, wait,” Lola said, her hand on his shoulder, stopping him from walking out. “Why can’t you make peace with Riley? Start over?”
He inhaled deeply. “Because he asked me to stay the hell away. And since I’ve never done anything he wanted during his childhood, it’s the least I can do for him now.”
Staying away from Riley had never been as easy or as simple as his son obviously believed. But doing so now that they’d had their first face-to-face confrontation, now that Spencer had seen the man Riley had become, was damn near impossible.
And he lived with regret every single day of his life.
S
OPHIE CANCELED
a photo shoot for a sick client. She returned some phone calls and in between she arranged a
Sports Illustrated
interview for Roper, who was looking for some positive publicity to counteract the negative and the magazine was doing a piece on athletes in touch with their feminine side—though they promised a masculine title and approach. She did everything and anything to avoid thinking about the fact that the office had been broken into and she might be the target.
But she couldn’t ignore the truth. And it only reminded her that she had no control over anything in her life. She headed to her private bathroom, hoping if she splashed cold water on her face she’d feel better.
After running the water for a while, she let the icy stream hit her wrists. Her body temperature cooled and she immediately felt better. She patted her face with a water-dampened towel, then rolled her neck from side to side, stretching her stiff muscles.
She wished she could visit with Annabelle to escape this nightmare, but her sister was going away for the weekend. Though she could stay at Annabelle’s house upstate anyway, she hated to run away.
Besides, Riley’s note had asked her not to make plans and she wanted to see what he had in mind for them. She still promised herself she’d keep her walls high, but she knew better than to think he’d leave her alone while she was being targeted. And, she admitted, she didn’t have the strength to turn him away just now.
She reached her arms above her head, laced her fingers together and stretched the way she’d learned in yoga class. Come to think of it, maybe going to another yoga class would calm her nerves.
She tipped her head upward and opened her eyes. What looked like the lens of a video camera stared back at her from the lighting in the ceiling.
She screamed.
R
ILEY HAD BEEN
at the gym near Athletes Only when Yank called and left a message on his voice mail demanding Riley meet him at the office ASAP. Riley had been in Yank Morgan’s office long before he heard Sophie’s shriek. He turned and ran, reaching her office half a step before everyone else at A.O. He didn’t see her immediately and spun to find her standing inside the small bathroom.
“Who died?” Yank came to a halt behind Riley, stopping himself by grabbing onto the younger man’s shoulders.
Sophie blushed, her soft skin turning a flattering shade of pink. “Everything’s okay. I’m okay. I’m sorry I scared everyone.”
“You heard her. She’s fine. Everyone get back to work.” Yank waved his hands, shooing everyone away.
Riley waited until everyone except Yank had taken off. “What’s wrong?” he asked Sophie.
“That is wrong.” She pointed to the ceiling.
He looked up. A camera lens had been not so subtly hidden in between the overhead lighting.