Playing for Keeps/Body Check (Rules of the Game) (2 page)

"Well here it is in a nutshell, Nick. There is a tear in the tendon that requires surgery asap. Normally, I would wait six weeks, to see if alternating heat and cold would work, but the tear is deep, Nick. Surgery often has good results in lasting pain relief and improved function."

Nick flinched as Dr. Ramin fitted a sling to Nick's tender shoulder.
 
"This is my throwing arm, Doc. I'm not stupid enough to think that this isn’t going to affect my abilities. So what do you think? Will I be able to pitch by spring training in February?"

The doctor looked at Nick's chart, then drew off his reading glasses and faced Nick. "It's really up to the way you heal, Nick. Intense rehab, rest, following instructions to the letter and we'll see where you are come January." The doctor lowered the chart and eyed Nick. "So what are your plans?"

Nick took a deep breath, and shrugged. "Right now I have to get on a plane to New York. Have appearances scheduled on some talk shows."

After giving him a shot of cortisone to lessen the pain, the doctor placed an ice pack on his upper arm, and Nick cringed at the touch of the icy compress. "That's right, you're from Brooklyn, aren’t you?"

 
The mention of his home brought a broad smile to his lips. "Yeah, Carroll Gardens, the most beautiful place on earth."

The doctor looked up. "Seems as though you have decisions to make before spring training next February, don’t you?"
 
 
 
 

As the doctor finished administering to Nick's arm, he slid off the table, and carefully slipped into a dress shirt.
 
"I love California, and my friends here, but Doc, you know the old adage, there's no place like home."

The doctor smiled and shook Nick's hand. "Just think about scheduling surgery on that shoulder, asap."

"Sure Doc, and thanks."

Bittersweet memories and unanswered questions clouded his thoughts as he left the locker room with a list of do's and dont's for his injured shoulder. Nick refused any kind of narcotic pain medication and opted instead to take regular non-aspirin for the discomfort. He'd seen too many of his friends become addicted to pain killers and it ruined their career. He had too much respect for his body to do anything so stupid.

Making his way to the underground garage, he climbed into his red Ferrari, and careful not to jostle his shoulder, he drove out and began the long drive to his Penthouse. If it wasn’t for the adrenalin pulsing through his veins from the victory celebration, the pain in his shoulder would be unbearable. As it was, he was still nauseous, needing to get home, put a fresh compress on his injured shoulder, and relax.

***

Sitting in a cab on the way back to Brooklyn moments later, memories of Jenna's short-lived marriage to Nick came flooding back to haunt her. They'd grown up together in grammar and high school, then college sweethearts. Having given each other their innocence, they’d vowed on prom night that whatever happened, they'd always find a way to be together.

Easier said than done. Jenna and Nick eloped soon after, but both sets of parents being old fashioned, traditional Italians, soon interfered and the ensuing meddling and in-law intrusion eventually tore the young lovers apart. They were still legally married when Jenna's parents whisked her off to their Naples home, thinking Jenna would forget Nick. It didn’t work.

After two months of begging her parents to relent, Jenna was all set to return to Brooklyn. At just the same time, Nick was signed to the Condor farm team in San Francisco. As a horrible fate would have it, on the way to the airport, Jenna and her family were victims of a deadly car accident.
 
Parents killed instantly, Grace critically injured, Jenna suffered broken bones in both legs and was in no condition to return to the States. At the same time, Nick's career was just taking off.

She couldn’t ask him to give up everything to come to Italy and take care of her and her family. It wouldn’t be fair. So she filed for divorce, and made it clear to Nick that she didn’t want him in Italy. She wouldn’t burden him. After all, his career was something Jenna wouldn’t put in jeopardy at any price, even at the risk of losing him forever. She loved him too much to tie him to her injuries.

Jenna spent nearly a year in a wheelchair and walked with a cane for years, and even now, needed a cane when the weather was humid and rainy.

Immersing herself in food to fill the void left by Nick, Jenna finally pulled herself together after Grace began to heal. So she immersed herself in food in other ways, finally realizing she had more talent preparing it rather than eating it. With the large sum of money she and Grace received from their parents’ estate, Jenna decided to stay in Naples, and attend a culinary academy.

And oh, so slowly, she and Grace healed and thrived.
 
But Jenna knew it was too late to think her life with Nick would ever come to fruition.
 
Their marriage was over, yet to this day, she'd never forgotten him.

Lives changed, fate intervened, some dreams recognized, others dashed that day her parents were killed in that accident.
 
Nick had gone to California to realize his dream, and Jenna was the one who pushed him away.

 
***

By the time Nick arrived at his apartment, he was drained, both emotionally and physically. His shoulder throbbed with hot slicing pain, and all he wanted was a hot shower, a cold beer, and his bed, in that order. Tomorrow was the victory parade, and he wanted to be fresh and ready to celebrate.

After a steaming shower, he padded barefoot into his spacious bedroom, naked except for a towel around his waist. With an annoyingly uncomfortable ice pack taped to his shoulder, Nick grabbed a beer, settled onto his bed and sat up against the headboard. He reached for the TV remote and turned to ESPN.
 

He saluted the segment on his team, especially the highlights that left him happy, proud and wonderfully exhausted. After several replays of his winning pitch, Nick smiled and decided his ego had had enough stroking.
 
So he continued clicking.

Until he came to the Food Channel. "Ah food. Here's something I can get into," he said aloud, then took another pull of his beer and nearly choked.
 
That's when he saw her. Nick swallowed the beer and coughed, his body stiffened, then he grabbed the remote and put up the volume.

Watching the auburn haired beauty smiling at the camera, those amber eyes glistening with happy familiarity, those lips that could stop a heart.

"Oh my God….Jen. You're back."

***

He hadn’t seen her in twelve damn years. Twelve years of living with a void in his heart. A void which he'd never been able to fill. And questions that had never been answered.
 
His eyes drank her in like a man dying of thirst. 

His chest contracted, and he dared not blink, lest he lose sight of her for even a second. When had she come back to the states? Was she married? Have children? He wondered.

Damn, still beautiful. Chestnut silky waves flowed over her shoulders, begging for a man's touch. Doe shaped amber eyes twinkling with enjoyment, and a contagious laugh filtered through the speakers. The smile she radiated through the glass screen reminded him of a time when those full, soft lips kissed and loved him.

Something stirred deep within Nick at that moment. A sensation that drove him to pick up the phone to call her. To hear her voice.

Wait, you idiot. Just out of the blue, you're going to call her?
 
Recall old times? Gee, Jen, just saw you on TV; want to go out for a drink? What's twelve years between ex's?
 

But he picked up the phone in any case, made a few calls, and was able to secure her number. Nick wanted answers. She owed him that much, and so much more.
 

CHAPTER THREE

Going over her menu at Café Valentine, Jenna's attention was pulled from her preparations.

"Jenna, phone call for you."

"Who is it?"

She took the phone from the hostess, who shrugged. "Some guy, says he wants to talk to you."

Jenna put the phone to her ear. "This is Jenna Valentine."

"Last time I checked,
Red
, your last name was Dante."

The room spun around her. That voice, deeper, richer, but it was him. He called her
Red
. Only one person in the world called her that.

A breath. "Nico."

It was an effort to push out that one word. Jenna grabbed onto her desk and failed to calm the pounding heart.
 
Why was he calling her?
 
How did he know she was back in the States?

"Yeah, it's me. You still there, Jen?"

"How did you know where I was?"

"I see you finally decided to move back to New York."

Jenna took a deep breath, and managed to grab her chair. She lowered herself into the soft leather, and pushed her hair over her shoulder. “First of all, how did you find me?"

"Saw you on a cooking show. You look great, Red." His voice lowered to a raspy whisper. "You know for years after we broke up, I could still hear your voice in my head, feel your soft hair in my hands. I…"

"Please Nico. Don’t." She hated herself for that tremble in her voice. Her Italian accent grew thicker when she was nervous. He'd notice that too.

"You could have at least have let me know that you were home, Red. You owe me at least that much."

Her hands began to sweat and her heart drummed a frantic beat. "I'm sorry. Grace and I have been home almost a year now."

"I'm flying into New York in a few days, and I want to see you." For a moment she heard nothing. Then, he sighed. "There are things we need to discuss, Jen. There were things left unsaid. I need answers."

She stood and rounded her desk, pacing the small area, her voice breaking with emotion. "Why, Nico? Why after all these years? Our lives are different. You went your way, and I went mine. Things have changed. I've changed. How do you know that I'm not married?"

She heard a hitch in his voice. "Because there are certain advantages to being who I am."

Jenna shook her head. "Please Nico, seeing each other will come to no good."

And with that, she shut off the phone and threw it onto a nearby chair. She staggered back into her office chair, clutching her stomach with one hand, her head in another. She thought she'd be sick, so she took deep cleansing breaths to control her oncoming panic.

But she realized that there was unfinished business between them. Nothing had ever changed for her. She still loved him, would always love him. But he'd never know that.

He was coming home to New York. He would see her. And there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it.

Did she want to? Did she owe him?
 
Should she tell him the truth, and bring closure to their relationship?

She'd been the girl he'd left behind to chase his dream.

So where did that leave her?

***

Arriving home that night, Jenna unlocked the door to the brownstone she shared with Grace. Weary and drained from her phone encounter with Nico, all she wanted was a hot shower, a glass of wine and the oblivion of sleep. The last thing Jenna wanted was to think of her conversation with him.

Easier said than done.

"Well, there you are. I was starting to worry."

All was forgotten when Jenna entered the spacious, warm living room of the house. Grace sat on the long rose patterned sofa, wearing a smile that warmed Jenna's heart.

"Buona sera, sorella.” Jenna smiled and kissed her sister on both cheeks.

Grace looked up and frowned. "You look tired, cara. Coma esta?"

Jenna toed off her shoes, groaned, and flopped down beside her sister. "Just a busy day, Gracie. I'm fine."

"Don't try to fool me. By the way, the show was wonderful."

Jenna smiled, rubbing her aching feet, the memory of Nick's voice haunting her mind. "It was fun."

Grace smiled. "Have you had dinner yet?
 
I left a plate of baked ziti in the oven for you."

"I'm not hungry, Gracie."

Grace grabbed Jenna's wrist, her eyes squinting in question. "What's wrong?"

"Stop analyzing me, Gracie. I told you, you should have gone into psychology instead of the restaurant business. I'm fine, I said. Just tired."

Grace rose from the sofa. "Come on. I'll pour you a glass of wine and you can tell me why you're so grumpy."