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The bell above the door chimed her exit, and Scott sank back into his seat. Given his quasi-celebrity status, it wasn’t the first time he’d been either blown off or cold-shouldered. Of course, sometimes that reaction beat the inevitable queue of girls lining up whenever the media got wind he’d be attending a benefit or gala without a date. He had to be careful; his reputation had taken a beating during his divorce from Dylan’s mother, and it had nearly cost him custody.
He shivered. Lindsay had never wanted children, had certainly never wanted custody of Dylan, but it hadn’t stopped her from threatening to take his son away throughout the proceedings, and even now, long after the ink had dried, Scott still got nervous anytime she hinted she might reopen litigation. He’d only been granted full custody because she hadn’t fought him. And because he hadn’t asked for child support. He could afford to take care of his son without her help, or the strings that would inevitably have come tangled up with it.
Almost full custody, he amended.Although, given how often she cancels, it might as well be.
In any case, his name had been linked to a few too many women in the year after his divorce had been finalized, and Lindsay’s threats had been the wake-up call he’d needed. Now, he considered himself “settled,” with a nanny for Dylan and a five-year contract to play for the Raptors. In fact, he hadn’t had a serious love interest in years, and his sister had long since gotten fed up with attending events with him.
Of course, she’d also moved to Montana last year to take over their grandparents’ farm and gotten herself married to one of the trainers in the process, so he went stag, and hoped to avoid the pawing hands of every celebrity-hunter in the city.
Well, Abby clearly wasn’t a celebrity-hunter or a gold-digger. Could she be the kind of person he could call a friend? Or more?
His mind fixated on the way her eyes lit up when she talked about Gen. He’d never seen that shade of green before, light, like sage leaves, and sparkling with passion and determination. There was no denying her beauty, but it wasn’t just physical. She had a beautiful soul, too.
He sipped the last of his coffee, then rose, placing the empty mug in the plastic bin by the door. He had Abby’s information; he’d wait a few weeks and give her another call. In the meantime, maybe he and Dylan would visit the park more often.
Five
“AND YOU RAN out on him?” Cara’s horrified expression said almost as much as her words.
“Well, Liam had already gone into emergency surgery and Ethan was a wreck. I had to go.” Abby threw her hands up to stave off Cara’s response. “Plus, he’s a football player. He’s, well... famous.”
Cara made a face. “So? He likes you. You could at least become friends.”
“It would never work.”
“Why, because he clearly hates dogs, or wouldn’t be supportive of your work? Because he despises coffee? And since when is football a bad thing? You love football.”
“Ilikefootball. Geez, I’m not some rabid fan, Cara. And his second suggestion after dinner was a brewery. How, exactly, do you think that’s going to work? You should have heard his voice when I said I don’t drink. ‘At all?’ He didn’t even know what to say.”
“Okay, fair point, but c’mon. He likes the occasional beer is enough reason to turn down a second date?”
“It wasn’t a date.” Abby took a deep breath, then blew it out. “I had fun, and I did like him.” She didn’t expect it would be so easy to admit. “But, you know, he’s got a kid. A ready-made family is a big deal. If I was looking to date someone—and I’m not—it wouldn’t be him. Plus, he’s the hometown hero. He’s in the news, and he has all those events and stuff, and he’s always traveling for games. When would he have time for me? How would I fit into his life?”
“I’m pretty sure that’s the point of dating, to see how each of you fits into the other person’s life. How would he fit into yours?”
Abby thought it over. “I’m not sure.”
“So, maybe it isn’tthisguy, but it’s been three years. You know Will wouldn’t want you to spend the rest of your life alone.”
Abby flinched.
In fact, it hadn’t taken long for word to circulate around the hospital one of their own had gone on a date—despite her protestations to the contrary—with the handsome football player who had brought his son to the ER with a double fracture of his left arm. It didn’t help the ER doctors and nurses were all gossips and considered Abby a sort of legacy to be protected.
She’d assumed here, of all places, wherehismemory pervaded everything, there would be less understanding. Instead, she’d been surprised by the positive reactions of the hospital staff, who seemed more aligned with Cara’s position than hers.
Cara shook her head. “Don’t you think they want you to be happy?” She opened her mouth to continue, then shut it and pursed her lips instead.
But Abby knew what Cara wouldn’t say. Everyone else had moved on; no one would blame her for doing the same.
Abby turned the corner onto her street.
“Almost home, girl.”
Gen sprawled across the backseat, tail limp, head down, the fur of her ruff blowing gently in the draft from the A/C.
Spring, now well-advanced, came with the usual wave of humidity, making the air thick and hazy, but Abby didn’t have the energy to enjoy the honey-warm sun filtering through the thick canopy of new leaves and dappling the road.
After another emergency surgery, Liam’s chances of recovery had plummeted. Ethan, still too weak from the last transfusion to give any more blood, had been inconsolable when they’d had to find a different donor.