he said, rubbing a hand over his mouth. It was an old gesture, back to haunt him. “I’m nervous.”
“Why?”
“You must not know Leo.”
“We just met.”
“He doesn’t like me very much.”
She filled her mug with water from the tap, not commenting on his parenting failure. Her daughter was a shining star at Berkeley. She’d been a straight-A student in high school. According to Lydia, the girl excelled in athletics, as well. Brooke was everything Nathan wished Leo would be.
“Is he a good driver?” she asked.
Nathan doubted it. The only activity Leo put effort into was getting stoned. “He’s never been in an accident.”
“You don’t want cocoa, I take it.”
“No.”
“Club soda?”
“All right.”
She put her mug in the microwave and filled a pale green cup with ice, pouring the clear soda on top.
“Thank you,” he said, giving her another once-over as she stirred the cocoa. Her legs were shapely, with smooth, suntanned calves. The leather straps around her ankles resembled Roman slave cuffs. Surely they weren’t meant to inspire bondage fantasies. He tore his gaze away, sipping his club soda.
Looking at her like that was a bad idea. If he wasn’t careful, he’d start entertaining thoughts about wife-swapping and poetic justice. Not that Lydia cared who he slept with nowadays. Nathan felt no particular urge to try to make her jealous, either. Hooking up with Abby wouldn’t close the circle of betrayal or right any wrongs. He felt dirty for considering it, which of course made the notion all the more appealing.
“Do you still drink?” she asked.
“No. I’ve been sober three years now.”
“Congratulations.”
He acknowledged her with a curt nod.
Silence stretched between them. “My sister just got engaged,” she said, showing him a photo on her cell phone.
He glanced at the image to be polite. “Is that a gray diamond?”
“Musgravite,” she said. “It’s very rare. She’s a geophysicist.”
That was impressive. “Are you a scientist, as well?”
“I’m a wellness director at a nursing home.”
“What does that mean?”
“I plan activities and interact with the residents.”
“Do you play pinochle?”
Her lips twitched at the question. “We play strip poker.”
The comment sounded suggestive, like an invitation to picture her naked. Somehow he resisted the urge. “You must see a lot of sock suspenders.”
She laughed, shaking her head. “What do you do?”
“You don’t know?”
“I know you used to play baseball.”
“I manage a college team now.”
“Is that like coaching?”
“Sort of. I handle recruiting and business decisions.”
“Where at?”
“San Diego State.”
The season had just ended and Nathan was happy with their performance. The Toros had done well in the play-offs. Maybe next summer they’d go all the way. He felt good about their future prospects—and his own.
Professionally, he had few complaints. Managing a talented young team was lucrative and rewarding. His love life was nonexistent and his son refused to speak to him. But hey, nobody said sobriety would be easy.
The sound of a motorcycle engine made his heart jump into his throat.
“That’s them,” Abby said.
Nathan set his cup on the countertop and proceeded outside with her. Leo parked what appeared to be a vintage dirt bike on the sidewalk by the driveway. It was an old Honda with a single headlight. The seat didn’t appear large enough for two, but they’d managed. Brooke clung to Leo like a second skin, her slender arms wrapped around his midsection. She was wearing a black helmet, obviously his.
She hopped off the bike and removed the helmet, pale blond hair spilling down her shoulders. She was tall and leggy, like her mother. Her jeans and tank top were tight enough to rev up any teenage boy’s hormones.
Leo grinned at her as he stomped down the kickstand and cut the engine. He took the helmet she offered, seeming a little dazed by her beauty.
Nathan could relate to the feeling.
Leo didn’t notice Nathan’s car in the driveway or even see him standing there. Nathan stepped forward, clearing his throat. Leo startled at the sound. His smile faded and all of the joy drained from his face.
“Is that thing street legal?” Nathan asked.
Leo ignored his question. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
Brooke gaped at his rudeness. She probably never spoke that way to her parents.
“This is Leo’s dad,” Abby said, putting her arm around Brooke’s shoulders.
The girl recovered from her shock and greeted him politely. “I’m Brooke.”
“Nathan,” he said, shaking her hand. “Pleased to meet you.”
Abby guided her inside, aware that Nathan and Leo needed some privacy.
Nathan didn’t know where to begin. He hadn’t talked to Leo since Christmas. Now that Leo was an adult, Nathan couldn’t force him to accept his calls or allow visits. Ray and Lydia supported him financially.
Nathan had no say in his life. No rights. No relationship.
He’d lost his son in the divorce, as well as his wife. Although he took responsibility for the problems he’d created, he still resented being out of the parental loop. Lydia never consulted with him about important issues, like vehicle ownership and college enrollment. Ray gave Leo free rein to fuck up and footed all the bills.
Leo had grown several inches since last summer, when Nathan had stopped by to see him after a game at UCLA. Between semesters, he lived with Ray and Lydia in Beverly Hills. They’d converted the pool house into a small studio apartment where he could jam loud music and hang out with his hoodlum friends.
His hair was longer. His shoulders were a little broader. Though he refused to play sports, he was a
