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

by Heather Peters

  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."

  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 maj
or 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 pu
shed 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.

  Jenna looked around her. All eyes were focused on her and Nick, apparently waiting to see what came next. She took the arm that wasn’t secured in a sling, and led him to an alcove outside the kitchen. Prying eyes and ears would not be involved in this conversation.

  Jenna was nervous, excited and frightened all at once. She turned and faced him. "I thought you were in California?"

  "Is that all you have to say to me, Red?"

  He was standing too close, looking too gorgeous, and waiting for answers, it seemed. Jenna crossed her arms over her chest and took deep breaths. I should have expected this day would come, she thought. But this was not the time, nor the place.

  "Yes, Nico, right now that's all I have to say. Look, this is my place of business. So, if you'd like to stay and have dinner on the house, please be my guest, but I'm not discussing our personal life here."

  He stood with his legs apart, about to say something, but he stood silent for a moment, meeting her eyes, smile gone. Then he nodded.

  "Yes, you're right, sorry. It's great to see you, and I do want to talk to you alone, soon. And I'd love dinner." He looked around the room. "This place is gorgeous, Red. Congratulations."

  Jenna allowed herself to relax. "Thanks, Nico. It's good to see you too."

  Suddenly, the air around her grew still. His smile vanished when he leaned into her again.

  "This is not a friendly social visit, Red. I'll be home for a while, and we will talk. I want and need answers, and I'm not going back to California till we hash this out. It's been twelve fucking long years since you sent me away, not allowing me to help you. You sent me packing, divorced me with no explanation other than to say you were letting me go and…"