Playing for Keeps/Body Check (Rules of the Game) (3 page)

Jenna shook her head as they walked into the kitchen together. Grace grabbed a bottle of red from the counter near the sink and poured each of them a generous glass.

"You know you can tell me anything." Her sister's voice was soft, loving.

Jenna knew she could never put one over on her oh-so-clever baby sister. "Nicky called me today."

Her eyes wide with surprise, Grace placed both glasses on the table, sat and faced Jenna.
 
"Nicky? After all this time? But then again, you had to know it would happen sooner or later, didn’t you, Jen?"

"I had hoped it would be later, much later," Jenna answered.
 
"I guess I told myself that coming back home after all these years would make him invisible, almost non-existent to me."
 

Jenna lifted the glass to her lips, and took a slow sip of wine, feeling the flavorful liquid slide down her throat.
 
"Guess I was wrong."

"What did he want? What did he say?"

Jenna fought back tears, and attempted a tiny smile. "He saw the cooking show and wants to see me," she said as nonchalantly as she could.

"And…?"

"And I told him that he was wasting his time. You would think that was clear enough, but he didn’t budge."

Grace didn’t touch her wine. "Nicky was always stubborn, just like you. It's a wonder the two of you got along so well, without killing each other."

"I don't want to see him."
 
Jenna emptied her glass, then touched Grace's full glass. "You going to drink this?"

Grace sighed and waved her hand, while Jenna took the glass and sipped.
 
"So what are you going to do?"

Jenna left the rest of the wine and stood, feeling limp and relaxed. Ah, mission accomplished. Now for a hot bath and bed, and no more vision of Nicky tonight. "He knows about the accident. What else is there to tell?"

"You know what I'm talking about, don’t skirt the issue." Grace followed Jenna down the hall in the direction of the bedrooms and bathroom.
 
"Dio, Jen, are you going to carry that burden the rest of your life?
 
He has a right to know. What if he finds out from someone other than you?"

"He never has for twelve years. Let it go, Gracie. I'm going in the shower, then to bed."

Limping slightly, Jenna stripped along the way. By the time she stepped into the bathroom to start the shower, she turned to see Grace dogging her heels.

"Jenna, talk to me!"

Jenna whirled around and threw up her arms. "Dammit, Gracie, leave it alone, will you? What's done can't be undone. I've put it all behind me."

Jenna turned on the shower jets, testing the heat with her fingers. She faced Gracie, who she suspected was not finished.

"I beg to differ, dear sister." She sighed. "Just be careful. You know secrets have a tendency of coming back to bite you on the ass."

And with that, Gracie slapped her sister on the rump, and left the bathroom.

Stepping under the steamy spray, Jen moaned with relief, and wished to hell Gracie's words wouldn’t turn out to be prophetic.

CHAPTER FOUR

The next evening Jenna arrived home, and against her better judgment, turned on the TV to of all things,
Sports Scene.

Did she really want to see Nick? Put herself through watching him while he rode the float in the Condors World Series victory parade?

I'm just curious
, she thought, attempting to justify her reasons for viewing her ex-husband standing on a float waving to the crowd while his teammates proudly held up baseball's major league championship trophy.

 
Adjusting the volume, then sitting on the couch in her living room, she took a sip of her wine, frowning as her fingers trembled slightly.

"Ah, didn’t know you've renewed your love of baseball."

Grace joined Jenna on the couch and placed a small platter of assorted cheeses and olives on the coffee table.

Jenna lifted an olive from the plate and popped it in her mouth. "Bite me."

Grace chuckled and kissed her sister on the temple. "I want to see my famous brother in law too. Raise the volume."

Yet once he was there, on the screen, smiling and waving at the adoring, cheering crowd, Jenna was sent back to her college years, when Nico was her world, her guy.

The love of her life.

He was incredibly handsome, those dark eyes twinkling with joy and triumph.
 
His mink brown hair covered by the brown, white and black team cap. Jenna felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up when she recalled the way his hair tickled her fingers when she tunneled them through it.

She gazed at his hands that waved to the crowd on either side of the float and closed her eyes. Memories of those fingers awakening her young body, caressing her face, gripped Jenna as she reflected on the love she shared with Nick, all those years ago.

Jenna's gaze remained glued to the television, suddenly craving more of him when the camera pulled away to other floats featuring Nick's teammates.

"Geez, Jen, he's grown more gorgeous with age," Grace commented, picking up a napkin and gently dabbing her mouth. "I'm happy for him, Jen. You should be too."

 
Jenna could not pull her tear filled gaze from him. "I am happy for him." And watching him, Jenna's heart bloomed with pride. Another emotion ribboned through her heart, and she recognized it as love.

Before she could elaborate, Sports Center finished the segment on the parade, and switched over to a previously taped segment; a reporter interviewing Nick.

Jenna inhaled deeply, sat as though glued to her seat.

"….I'm talking to Nick Dante, hero of the Major League Baseball World Series joining us today. Welcome Nick and congratulations. Quite a dramatic ending to the game, the Series and the season."

Nick smiled.
 
"We played and worked hard all season long to make it happen. All these guys gave 110 percent and I'm proud to be a member of this team."

Jenna clasped her hands tightly together as she sat on the edge of the sofa, not realizing how close to falling off she was.

"So how's the shoulder, Nick? Word is, surgery is in the cards for you, and soon. Any truth to this?"

Jenna frowned. "What's wrong with his shoulder?"

Grace shrugged, taking a sip of wine. "If you'd shut up, we'll find out."

Jenna flipped Grace the bird.

Nick nodded and frowned. "I injured my rotator cuff and it looks like I need surgery asap. I'm looking forward to a successful recovery, and reporting to spring training in February."

The reporter nodded and continued.
 
"So it looks like you'll be spending the off-season recovering?"

Nick nodded. "I've decided to have the surgery back home in New York, and rehab there till the end of the year. I'm looking forward to seeing lots of old friends and family when I get back to Brooklyn."

Grace stifled a chuckle. Jenna gave her a nasty look.

If their paths crossed, fine. She'd deal with it.

Maybe if she kept repeating it a thousand times, she'd start to believe it.

CHAPTER FIVE

Ten days later, with his affairs in California taken care of for the time being, Nick landed at JFK airport and was met by his agent, John Matera.

The two shook hands, retrieved Nick's luggage, then entered a waiting cab, bound for the Trump Tower in Manhattan, where John had secured a penthouse apartment for Nick.

Settled in the cab, John pulled out a folder. "Ok, we have lots of business to attend to, my friend. Tomorrow morning you're scheduled to make a short appearance on Good Day America, the day after, you're live on Dave O'Brien's talk show. Next week, you're sharing a cover of Sports Illustrated with Quinn Rafferty, the goalie for the New York Thunder. I'd love to get him for a client."

Nick raised a brow. "Quinn Rafferty? Incredible athlete. I met him a couple of times at a few charity dinners. He's a good guy. Be good to see him again."

John nodded. "Page Six wants to interview you in a couple of weeks for a feature story in their Sunday supplement as well."
 

Nick's head began to spin. "Whoa, slow down, pal," he chuckled. "First things first, man. Did you find Jenna?"

John nodded. "Of course I did. Ye of little faith," he joked.
 
"Are you hungry?"

"I'm sure your answer has something to do with my question, doesn’t it?"

"She owns a quaint little Italian restaurant in Carroll Gardens,
Cafe Valentine
. Celebrated the grand opening just recently. Terrific food, great bar.
 
Again I ask, are you hungry?"

Nick smiled broadly. "I'm starving. The only thing I had on the plane was a bag of stale peanuts and a glass of flat soda. I'm in the mood for a huge plate of veal marsala, spaghetti and a glass of wine."

John stopped shuffling papers and looked at Nick.
 
"Their menu is broad and eclectic. They serve a brick oven pizza that could break your heart, and a wine list that kicks ass."

Nick's blood rushed through his veins at the thought of seeing Jenna again. "I have unsettled business with her, John, and I really don't want to see her for the first time in twelve years in her place of business, but I can't wait."

John frowned. "Ok, let's get you settled at the hotel first."

Nick nodded, then gazed thoughtfully out the window. Brooklyn. Home.

Jenna.

***

 
 
 
 
 
 
The savory taste and fragrance of pesto sauce teased Jenna's taste buds in the kitchen of her new cafe when she heard a slight commotion in the main dining room.
 
Applause rang in her ears. What the hell?

"Jen, you gotta see this." Grace and the cafe's sous chef, Mario, seemed breathless as they entered the kitchen. All activity stopped, until Jenna, hands on hips, turned to face her cooks, tilted her head until they resumed their preparations.

"Told you the veal osso bucco was good," Jen joked.

Gracie took her sister by the arm. "Oh it's not the veal, more like beef cake. Just keep that smile glued and come with me."

"Gracie what on earth...?"

Halted in her tracks, that's when she saw him. Tall, tan and beautiful. The love of her youth and the memories following it crashed over her like a tsunami.

"Nico," she breathed.

***

While her brain attempted to register his presence, Nick headed toward her with long strides. Inhaling a hint of spice, Jenna nearly forgot to breathe. Looking up to meet his sparkling, mink brown eyes, her mouth was dry as cotton, legs were jelly. One of his arms was secured in a sling, and Jenna remembered he suffered from a shoulder injury.

Nick Dante. Her first love, first passion. Still incredibly handsome, tall, lean and broad shouldered. The café had grown silent, and all eyes turned to them.

Jenna flushed, heart racing and realized all attention was focused on them. He stood before her, the man she'd married a lifetime ago, his breaths a little rushed when he tunneled his fingers through his hair. She recognized the action as nervousness and was a bit relieved to find that he was equally unnerved.

"It's been a long time, Jen." He grabbed her hand and drew her close. "You're too beautiful."

And then, just like that, he kissed her full on the mouth, deep and hard, shocking her with the force of his touch.

Her body reacted before her mind. Jenna responded in kind, wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed him back with equal fervor.
 

Once her brain registered that they were standing in the middle of a café full of customers who were openly gaping at them, Jenna snapped out of her fog of pleasure.

She pulled away from him, swaying as if under a spell. One of Nick's brows raised and that charming smile of his nearly pushed her the rest of the way.

"Ah, it's good to be back in Brooklyn." Nick's eyes twinkled with mirth.
 
And something else. Sarcasm.
 
"I bet you're happy to be home too, aren’t you, Red?"

He was dressed impeccably, in black slacks and pearl gray pullover, a leather jacket completing his look. His hair was styled short and neat, and his oh so handsome, clean shaven face framed eyes the color of espresso. His eyelashes were long and thick, and as Jenna almost thought, too pretty to belong to a man. But on Nick they worked.