style="font-size:15px;"> His arms squeaked against the counter like fingernails scratching down a chalkboard as he stood. His back was ramrod-straight and he didn’t say a word. It was clear she’d hurt him and that surprised her. She knew his reputation. It wasn’t as if he didn’t have other options for female companionship. It shouldn’t even matter that she’d rejected him.
Then why did she get the sense that it did?
Time to change the subject.
She took another sip of the coffee.
“Ooh-la-la is right. This is heavenly.” She sighed. “By far the best café au lait I’ve ever tasted.”
The smile returned to his face, although her heart was heavy with the knowledge that when he heard what she was about to say, it wouldn’t last long.
“I thought you’d like it,” he responded. “Now that I’ve been benched for the next few days, I’ve got a lot of time on my hands.”
He rubbed his palms together as if he were formulating a devious plan. “So what’s on the agenda first? I’ve got a mountain of basketball shoes sitting in the middle of my closet just dying to be organized. One of the reasons I think I’m late in the morning is because I can never find shoes that match.”
She flipped open her notebook. “That’s not quite what I had in mind.”
He frowned as he stirred some sugar into his coffee. “O-kay. Maybe we can go shopping for a couple of new alarm clocks that have really annoying rings. The one on my phone obviously isn’t enough to wake me up.”
She crossed her legs to steady her nerves, aware of his eyes on them as he sipped his coffee.
“Actually, we’re going to see your father.”
Derek clattered his mug against the granite countertop. “What are you talking about?”
Her heart lurched at the sudden change in his demeanor. The hard stare he gave her now was a far cry from the way he’d been looking at her moments earlier.
She shifted in her seat. “I’m talking about making things right with your family, especially your dad.”
He flattened his palms on the counter.
“How did you find out about him?” he demanded. “I thought you were a life coach, not a private detective.”
She kept her voice calm. “I do background research on all my clients, and it’s amazing what you can find archived on the internet. The newspaper articles are all there and—”
He cut her off with a wave of his hand. “My dad doesn’t want anything to do with me. Trust me.”
“I think the opposite is true,” she ventured.
His eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t think you want anything to do with him.”
He said nothing, yet something seemed to deflate within him.
“As I was saying, there are tons of articles about your rags-to-riches success story on the web, but your family is rarely mentioned.”
“So?” he challenged. “I thought you were here to help me get off the bench and back on the basketball court where I belong, not poke around where you don’t belong.”
She understood his anger, but she wasn’t going to let herself be deterred by it.
“I’m here to help you in any way I can,” she replied.
Derek walked around the counter, sat on the chair opposite her and crossed his arms. “Well, you can start by leaving my past out of it.”
She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I can’t do that.”
He leaned forward. “Why not?”
She met his eyes and kept her voice firm.
“Sometimes when people have unresolved issues in their past, it can affect their lives in the present, as well as the future. No matter how successful they become, there’s always something missing.”
She knew that feeling all too well. It was something she struggled with every day.
He waved her comment away and crossed his arms over his massive chest. “That sounds like some kind of self-help mumbo jumbo, Dr. Kenyon.”
She took in a sharp breath and brought her hand to her mouth.
“Don’t look so shocked that I did a little investigation of my own,” he advised.
She said nothing for a moment, preferring to forget about that part of her life. A time when she’d tried to start over, and failed miserably.
“Actually, I’m glad to hear that you did a little digging on your own,” she said, recovering quickly. “It shows you’re highly invested in doing things in your life differently.”
“Or it could show that I’m highly interested in you,” he added, watching her for her reaction.
Her heart fluttered, yet she managed to keep her expression calm and her voice light. “I’d heard you were a huge flirt, Derek. You don’t have to prove it to me.”
His brows knit together and she sensed he was disappointed with her response. What had he expected her to say? Her interest in him was strictly professional and her fantasies were hers alone.
“Do you remember Jamal Carter?” The former NBA star turned heroin addict had been her last patient in her short-lived second career as a psychologist.
Her insides quaked at the memory of their counseling sessions. Some of the stories Jamal had told her about growing up in one of the fiercest projects in Brooklyn still haunted her. Despite his wealth and success, he could never get past all the pain he’d experienced as a child.
She’d quit practicing psychology soon after his death from suicide. Even though she knew it wasn’t her fault, not a day went by when she didn’t ask herself if she could have done or said something to prevent it. Questions that would forever remain unanswered.
Derek ran a hand through his locks and looked uncomfortable. “Of course I remember him. He grew up in the same projects I did. I was brought in to replace him on the team after he died. You were Jamal’s therapist?”
She nodded. “I counseled Jamal for a few months before he died. He was an incredibly gifted and successful athlete. But his past ultimately destroyed him.”
He crossed his arms. “That’s not going to happen to me,” he insisted, looking away.
She hated the prideful tone in his voice, yet she knew it wasn’t the result of arrogance. The man was wealthy, yet he didn’t flaunt it like some of her other clients. There was something that mattered more to him than money and whatever it was, she had a feeling it scared him more than he wanted to admit.
“Don’t you see, Derek? It is already starting to happen!”
