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“Lloyd, my friend,” Spencer Davis said into the phone as he propped his long legs on the cherrywood desk in front of him. “You know you’re going to have to come higher on your offer. Derrick Quinn is the star of the team, and, as you know, he’s a free agent at the end of this season....”
Spencer let his sentence trail off. As a successful sports agent, he was in a position of power. He’d found that a key talking point was implying the star player would look elsewhere, and soon owners came around to seeing things his way. He listened as Lloyd tried to backtrack, but it was a losing battle. Spencer was not settling for anything less than the best for his client.
Since retiring from basketball four years ago after a successful fifteen-year run with the Miami Falcons, he’d opened his own sports agency and quickly signed two of his former teammates to his roster. He’d opened up a small office in downtown Miami that overlooked the bay. And soon his reputation for fair and honest dealing had helped catapult his starter agency into one of the premier agencies along the East Coast.
“Well, I appreciate that, Lloyd,” Spencer returned. “And I look forward to hearing from you with a better counter.” He hung up the phone and rose from his seat. From his doorway, he peeked out and looked at his assistant, Mona Dean.
She smiled when she saw him. Spencer knew the older woman had a soft spot for him. It was probably his six-foot-four height, although to most he was short for a basketball player. In his heyday, Spencer had been quite the ladies’ man. Women of all ages had flocked to him, eager to spend time with a three-time NBA champion. What he liked most about Mona was that she’d been a happily married woman for twenty-five years. And she knew how to give him hell when needed.
“Don’t I have lunch with Ty scheduled for noon today?” he inquired.
“Yes, but I made the reservation for half an hour later since Mr. Wilson is always notoriously late for your lunches.”
His best friend, Ty Wilson, was also a former NBA star who’d been drafted to play for Atlanta. Although they’d played on opposing teams for years, they’d developed a rapport when they’d been on the U.S. Olympics basketball team years back and won gold. They’d been friends ever since. Every time Ty was in town to visit his family, they got together to catch up on each other’s lives and reminisce about old times. Spencer looked forward to their gatherings.
He laughed heartily. And the woman was meticulous, too. “Thank you, Mona. Just send him in when he arrives.”
Spencer returned to his desk, but he stopped when the glare from the window shone a light on a framed photograph of Spencer, Ty and his younger brother, Cameron, who’d died nearly four years earlier. Seeing the photograph brought back a smile to Spencer’s lips but his heart broke for what could have been avoided.
The three of them had been inseparable during the off-season of the NBA. They’d traveled together, partied together, drank together and, worse, done drugs together. After a record number of incidents with the authorities, Spencer had realized they were on a downward spiral and stated they should clean up their act. Ty had agreed, and once he’d met Brielle and gotten whipped, he’d been totally on board. But Cameron, Cameron wouldn’t, couldn’t stop.
Spencer had unsuccessfully tried to get Cameron into AA, but he’d stubbornly refused. “I have control of this,” Cameron would say. “I’m a two-time NBA champion. I know discipline.” But he’d been wrong. Dead wrong.
When Cameron’s team had tanked the Eastern Conference, Cameron had been distraught. He’d viewed it as his last chance to get a “three-peat,” and he’d gone on a drinking binge. Spencer had accompanied him, appointing himself as the designated driver to ensure Cameron made it safely back home. But in a sad twist of fate, their car got involved in an accident that claimed Cameron’s life and left Spencer with survivor’s guilt.
“Mr. Davis, Ty is—” Before Mona could finish the sentence from the intercom, Ty came bursting into his office with an abundance of energy. Spencer rose immediately to greet him, instantly throwing off the sorrow he was beginning to surrender to before Ty’s visit.
“What up, my man?” Ty came forward and grasped Spencer in a bear hug, patting his back. “You’re looking well in your suit.”
“Working hard,” Spencer replied. “Trying to making a success of this agency.” He spread his arms and motioned around the room.
“Word on the street is you’ve got some of those owners’ noses wide-open.”
Spencer chuckled. “Who better to know some of their antics than a seasoned vet such as myself.”
Ty gave Spencer a warm smile. “No one better than you, Spencer. Let’s go get some grub.”
Thirty minutes later, he and Ty were seated at Area 31, the restaurant on top of the EPIC Hotel, and looking over the menu as they sipped on sparkling water. If it had been five years ago, they’d have ordered a bottle of champagne.
“You look good, Ty,” Spencer commented, eyeing his best friend’s jeans, white shirt and blazer. At six foot seven, all Ty’s clothes had to be custom-made, which was why he was always smartly dressed.
“Well, it’s all this clean living and good food,” Ty replied, patting his ever-increasing waistline. “You know, no drinking and no drugs and of course Brielle. Meeting her really made all the difference.”
Spencer nodded. Since meeting his second wife, Ty had kept his promise to refrain from all the drinking and drugs he’d abused during his basketball career and settled down to life as a sports anchor for a local TV station in Atlanta. The couple was also about to welcome their first child. “I’m really happy for you, Ty.”
“I wish the same for you,” Ty said, staring at him intently. “It’s time for you to let go of the past, Spencer.”
Spencer suspected Ty knew he still harbored a lot of guilt for what he thought he could have done to help his brother. “That’s easier said than done.”
“You did all you could for Cam. We both did,” Ty replied. “You have to move on. Matter of fact, I think it’s time you settle down.”
“With who?” Spencer asked. “With the basketball groupies hanging around the arenas, ready to land them a pro player or a former one? You know how it is in the business. It’s hard to meet anyone truly genuine and without any ulterior motive.”
Ty nodded. “I hear you.” Ty had got caught in that very same scenario with his first wife, who’d married him just for his money. It hadn’t taken him long to cut her loose, but not before she’d taken him for a mint because he’d married her during one of his drunken escapades and without a prenuptial agreement. “But you can’t give up, either. There has to be a good woman out there. I mean when was the last time you got laid?”
Spencer laughed at Ty’s blunt question. “That’s none of your business.” He pointed in his direction. “But if you must know I’ve been celibate for a while. I just need to meet someone with substance, who I can hold an intelligent conversation with. You know anybody like that?”
“I’ll ask Brielle if she has any friends,” Ty replied. “But all I’m saying is that man was not meant to live alone.”
“And as soon as a beautiful, smart woman walks into my life, I’ll snap her up.” Spencer snapped his fingers.
“You never know, she could be just around the corner,” Ty stated. “Like at Allyson Peters’s party tomorrow for Parkinson’s Research.”
“I’m not up for any rubbery chicken at a charity event.”
Ty eyed him suspiciously, “It’s for a good cause. And who knows? You might meet someone.”
“A socialite?” Spencer rolled his eyes. “That’s exactly who I don’t need to meet.”
“Just come. Brielle and I are going. And look at it this way. At least you won’t be working until all hours of the night. Mona told me you leave here well after the sun goes down.”
“And how would she know?”
“You do know Mona, right?” Ty raised an eyebrow. Spencer’s assistant was sharp and nothing escaped her.
“Oh, all right, I’ll go,” Spencer reluctantly conceded. “But if I have a bad time, I’m blaming it all on you.”
Ty smiled, happy that he’d gotten Spencer to see things his way. “Good. We’ll have fun tomorrow night.”
* * *
Raina drove Zoe to her parents’ the following evening so they could babysit while Raina and Summer had their catering event. Her mind went back to her meeting with the family attorney earlier that day.
“This picture certainly isn’t enough to establish paternity,” the attorney had said. “But it can certainly show that your sister Alexa knew Mr. Davis. Do you have any other evidence?”
Although Raina had been unable to supply him with any other evidence, he’d promised to hire an investigator to look into her sister’s past. He’d also indicated he would be sending a letter to Spencer requesting he either sign an Acknowledgment of Paternity or submit to a genetic test to establish paternity.
“What if he doesn’t want to take a genetic test?” Raina had inquired.
“Then we take this matter to the court,” the attorney had said. “Where he’ll then be forced to submit to a genetic test. Either way, we’ll get results. It’s just easier for all parties if he submits voluntarily.”
Raina had no idea how Spencer Davis was going to feel being served with paternity papers, but she had to know if Zoe’s father would step up to the plate. She wanted her niece to experience life with two parents. As soon as the thought came into her mind, Raina realized the finality of it. She was Zoe’s mother. She would be raising Zoe, potentially with Spencer, a man she knew nothing about other than what she’d read on the internet.
After the funeral, Raina had decided to look him up online. Initially, she’d been stunned by the negative press about Spencer Davis. He was a reformed bad boy who’d been known to womanize, drink and carouse with all sorts of bad fellows, and he’d exhibited the worst behavior in public. The tide had changed, however, and recent press had Spencer Davis leading the straight-and-narrow life. He’d retired and opened his own sports agency. He’d garnered a few big clients as well as a few Olympic athletes. One thing was clear: Spencer could easily afford child support.
But what if Spencer wasn’t Zoe father? What if the photo was a bad lead? Was she prepared to take care of Zoe alone?
Her mind wasn’t able to answer because she’d arrived at her parents’ home. Before she could open the back door, Zoe had already unbuckled herself and jumped out of the car, reminding Raina that she needed to be more cognizant of the child safety locks.
Zoe raced up the steps and rang the doorbell. Raina sighed as she popped open the trunk and pulled out Zoe’s overnight bag. Slinging it over her shoulder, she grabbed her purse and headed toward the now open front door.
In eager anticipation of her only grandchild, her mother had swung open the door and swept Zoe into her arms. Raina found them in the hallway and saw her mother smothering Zoe’s face with kisses.
“Hey, Mom,” Raina said, closing the door behind her.
“Hi, hon.” Her mother barely hazarded her a glance as she removed Zoe’s jacket and led her to the living room, where her father was no doubt watching the nightly world news.
“Hello to you, too,” Raina said, following behind her.
Her mother and Zoe joined her father on the sofa and snuggled together.
“Hey, baby girl,” her father spoke first. He gave her a quick smile before returning to his news program.
It was moments like this that reminded Raina of the indifference she’d always felt from her parents growing up. They’d thought they were having one little girl, Alexa, and had only been prepared for one child. Imagine their surprise when the doctor had told them he heard a second heartbeat during delivery and her mother had gone into labor again to give birth to Raina four minutes later.
And now that their favorite daughter had been taken from them so suddenly, her parents seemed to have gravitated to Zoe like bees to honey. They’d been surprised and deeply hurt when Alexa had indicated she felt Raina would be a better parent for Zoe. They, like Raina, had assumed Alexa was leaving custody to them. They were the logical choice, not a single, career-minded woman.
“Well,” Raina said and shifted uncomfortably from side to side at the doorway. “Here’s Zoe’s overnight bag.” She dropped the bag with an unapologetic thud onto the floor. “I’ll be by tomorrow to pick up Zoe for Caroline’s birthday party.”
Even though she would be dog-tired after an evening on her feet, cooking and serving, Zoe had a schoolmate’s birthday party to attend, and Raina was determined to make more of an effort to integrate herself into Zoe’s life. Sometimes it seemed as if the child had more social engagements than Raina.
Raina was so busy working on making her catering business a success, she had little or no time to go out, much less date someone seriously. Her last serious boyfriend had been two years ago. Eric Thomas had gotten so frustrated by Raina’s long hours and her lack of time for their relationship that he’d hightailed it after six months, leaving Raina alone and celibate the past two years. Now that she was a single mother, Raina’s prospects were going to be even less promising.
Her mother finally seemed to remember Raina was still in the room and glanced up. “Yes, Raina. Don’t worry about Zoe—we’ve got her tonight. And if you need me to take her to Caroline’s party, just let me know.”
Raina shook her head. “Oh no, I’ve got it.” She was determined to prove to her doubtful parents that Alexa hadn’t made the wrong decision when she’d chosen her as Zoe’s guardian.
Raina glanced down at her watch. “Well, I gotta go.” She looked across the room and gave her niece a pleading look. “Can your auntie have a kiss?” She bent down until she was nearly Zoe’s height.
Zoe paused for what seemed like an eternity before hopping off her grandfather’s knee and giving Raina a halfhearted hug.
Raina batted her eyes, refusing to let them tear up. Zoe considered her the disciplinarian. Her grandparents gave Zoe anything and everything she wanted, and she adored them. Raina rose. It just wasn’t fair. “See you tomorrow.” She gave her folks and Zoe a wave and made a quick exit. She was eager to go to a place where she knew she belonged, where she mattered. Her kitchen.
* * *
“What a great turnout for Parkinson’s Research,” Raina commented as she and Summer set up with their staff for one of the largest charity events of the Miami fall season.
They’d already arranged their stations earlier that day and brought all their preparations for the canapés they would serve throughout the evening. Diamonds and Gems Catering was collaborating on the event with Traci Todd, a thriving party planner. Traci had set up a classy affair complete with lighting, decorations and a band.
“I’ll say,” Summer said. She’d never been in the presence of such movers and shakers. She could tell from the way people were dressed in designer tuxedos and vintage gowns that these folks were ready to put down some serious cash for the cause. Their client Allyson Peters was one of the largest contributors, and her company was sponsoring a large team that would run in the Miami Marathon and Half Marathon in January. This event was a precursor to help raise awareness as well as funds. “How much do you think they’ll raise?”
Raina shrugged as she set out individual portions of her signature steak house sushi roll—shaved prime rib, asparagus, horseradish mayo and arugula—on platters. Their temporary staff had shucked hundreds of oysters for Summer’s raw bar of oysters on the half shell with a black pepper mignonette. Their client had requested small bites to be passed around by liveried waiters.
Summer and Raina worked in unison as they rolled out the first course of appetizers. They followed up the sushi and oysters with seared sea scallops, a blue crab cake and spicy lamb meatballs. The night was going smoothly. The fee on the event would cover Diamonds and Gems Catering expenses for the month.
Midway through the second course, Summer moved away from the table. “I’m going to the kitchen for more of the bacon cream sauce,” she told Raina. “I’ll be right back.”
“I’ll hold down the fort,” Raina said, pushing a wayward strand of hair out of her face as she arranged the food perfectly on a plate. She didn’t notice the two tall men and beautiful woman approaching her table.
“Good evening.” Raina looked up to give them a warm smile. The color drained from her face as she recognized the person staring back at her. It was none other than Spencer Davis.
“So what do you have here?” Spencer inquired as he looked down at the platters of food.
Her mouth moved as if to speak, but no words came out. Raina licked her lips in frustration. How in the world had she come face-to-face with Zoe’s father?
Chapter 2
Spencer stared at the beautiful creature with the almond-shaped brown eyes. She was really quite exquisite with high exotic cheekbones on a delicate face. A pile of wavy hair was curled into a neat bun on top of her head, which made her look slightly prudish but sexy nonetheless. Spencer watched her lick her lips in frustration and a jolt of awareness shot straight through him. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt such an instant attraction to a woman.
She blinked at him several times before answering him in the sweetest voice he’d ever heard.
She motioned to one platter. “What I’ve prepared for you here is a drunken sea scallop with a beer-infused bacon cream sauce, a blue crab cake with sun-dried tomato aioli and a spicy lamb meatball with cucumber yogurt sauce.”
“Hmm...” Spencer moaned at the description, and he watched her eyes grow larger in response. “Sounds delicious.” He kept his gaze on hers and neither of them wavered until Ty coughed.
“My wife would like the scallop, and I would love to try the lamb meatball,” Ty said, eyeing Spencer curiously. He could tell when his boy had his eye on a woman. And this woman, whoever she was, had captured his attention.
Raina smiled. “Absolutely.” She handed him a meatball on a small plate, then passed Brielle a small plate with a large scallop on it, but not before sprinkling both with fresh parsley. “Enjoy.”
“I’ll have one of everything,” Spencer said. At her questioning look, he added, “I’m a growing boy.”
Without speaking, she handed him a plate of all her offerings.
“Thank you.” Spencer nodded and reluctantly followed his friends, who’d stepped away from the table to enjoy the first course.
When he joined them several yards away at a small bar-height table, Ty wasted no time calling him out on his instant infatuation. “That was some sexual tension back there,” Ty said, glancing back at the woman behind the table, who was talking to several other guests ready to taste her delicious creations.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Spencer lied.
Brielle laughed as she took a bite of scallop. “You’re a terrible liar, Spencer. We both saw it. No, make that felt the attraction between you two.”
Spencer shrugged. “She’s a beautiful woman. What can I say?” He wanted nothing better than to know what kind of figure was beneath the oversize chef coat she was wearing.
“Get her number,” Ty suggested.
“I can’t.” Spencer shook his head. “She’s working.”
“The night is still young,” Ty responded. “As the evening ends, I’m sure the opportunity will present itself.”
“What do you think, Brielle?” Spencer turned to Ty’s wife.
“She was definitely affected by meeting you,” Brielle said. “I think you have a shot.”
“All right.” Spencer pointed his finger at the two matchmaking culprits. “But if I’m turned down flat, I’ll have no one to blame but you.”
“You won’t,” Ty returned.
Spencer sure hoped not. For some reason, his gut told him that this woman was someone worth knowing.
