Game, Set, Match (A Humorous Contemporary Romance) (Love Match) (20 page)

Warily, Nick cast him another glance. “You’re not here to make me go back and play nice?”

Jason quirked a brow. “Is there any chance you feel like going back and playing nice?”

Every bit of Nick’s expression read, Get real.

“Fair enough, I’m not here to make you go back then.”

As if not sure whether to believe him, Nick continued to play, but kept looking over in Jason’s direction.

After another ten minutes, Nick bounced the ball toward Jason. Understanding the male version of “I’m ready to talk now,” Jason shrugged off his blazer and picked up the basketball. Basketball wasn’t his main sport, but he’d played a couple of years in high school. When he sank a shot from the paint, Nick looked at him wide eyed.

“You can ball?”

Jason wasn’t sure whether to laugh at Nick’s astonishment or take umbrage. “Yeah, I got a few ups. Haven’t played in a while though.”

Nick surveyed him with renewed interest as he took his place fetching rebounds. “You ever think about playing basketball instead of tennis?”

“If you’d have asked me when I was young, I might have said yes. But everyone expected me to play tennis, so I did.”

Nick hustled after a wild ball. “You didn’t want to play tennis?”

Jason considered. Tennis was such a part of his life early on, there was no real consideration he wouldn’t play. Basketball and other sports were a way to keep in shape for tennis. His parents choreographed everything about his tennis for his future development and potential. Somewhere along the line it had become his salvation. “I did want to play. It just so happens, everyone else wanted me to play too.”

Jason’s next shot missed the mark, and he traded places with Nick. He watched as Nick took his first shot. The ball arced high and slid into the basket like a woman putting on a silk dress. “Your parents play too?”

The last time Jason talked to anyone about his parents, a different man had sat in the Oval Office. “Both of them played, though I doubt they did it for pleasure.”

Nick nodded solemnly. “Mom doesn’t play anymore.
Though sometimes she looks like she wants to.”

Jason’s nerve endings did the locomotion at the mention of Izzy. “Did she used to play with you?”

Swoosh
. Another ball slid though the basket with ease. Jason had a feeling he’d be the permanent rebound guy the rest of the night. “Nah. I guess she stopped playing when Grandpa died. Before I was born. She used to be my coach.”

Jason nodded and wondered where the conversation would turn given the weight of the avoided topic. “I can imagine. She was an amazing player.”

Nick stopped in mid-shot. “You actually played together?”

Jason thought it better not to ask what Nick meant by
 
played
 together. “Yeah. She was powerful. Never afraid of the net. Used to get after it.”

“That’s how she is sometimes when she’s taking photos. She’s got this total focus.” Nick grinned. “Like this one time,
she bungee jumped off this bridge in Zambia because she wanted to get this perfect shot of a rainbow on Victoria Falls.”

Jason’s mind tried to reconcile his memories of a young and spirited Izzy with the more sedate older version. “Sounds like fun.
A little dangerous, but fun.”

Nick smiled a smile that said he’d never admit it, but his mom was the coolest. “Yep, every summer we go somewhere different. Mom takes pictures, and I learn about culture and stuff.
Usually just the two of us.”

The next question was out before Jason could put the
brakes on it. “Is Simon going with you guys this summer?”

Nick missed his shot. As he and Jason traded places again, he said, “God I hope not, I can’t stand that dweeb.” Then as he realized he probably shouldn’t have said that, he gave Jason a sheepish smile. “Sometimes Jessica comes, which is cool. When I was little,
 
she
 used to come too.”

Jason didn’t have to ask who
 
she
 was. Nick’s shuttered gaze told him enough. Jason knew he was the last person on earth to talk anyone through complex family dynamics, but he wanted to help. “I guess seeing her just now was kind of a shock. When was the last time you saw her?”

Nick shrugged. “A few months ago, I guess.” He shot a string of two pointers to make Kobe Bryant proud before he added, “Mom lets her stay with us so I can spend some time with her.”

“How do you feel about that?”

The steady rhythm of
 
swoosh, thud thud
 filled the air for several minutes before Nick answered. “Mom, Izzy, says it’s good for us to keep a relationship. But I don’t want to.”

“Have you told her that?”

Nick fired another shot which hit the rim, threatened a mutiny, but went in all the same. “She doesn’t understand. She tries to make it better ‘cause she feels bad she can’t adopt me.”

Jason felt an unfamiliar tightening in his chest and prickling behind his eyes.
 
Shit, he was going soft
. Had he been this astute at thirteen? “She’s in a tough spot, I guess.” Grabbing a rebound ball, he asked, “What’s stopping the adoption? Sabrina?”

Nick shook his head and shrugged simultaneously. “The judge says it’s because there isn’t consent from both birth parents.
Which is lame. I really think it’s ‘cause Mom’s black.”

Jason held onto the rebound ball, shocked. “I’m sure that’s not the reason. Maybe they want to see if Sabrina can get herself together.”

Nick gave him a look and raised an eyebrow. “Whatever. Mom says we’re a family no matter what.”

It never occurred to Jason the hurdles Izzy had to face to raise Nick. She’d given him a clue during the photo shoot, but at the time he assumed she was sensitive about the subject. Now he knew she had cause. He cleared his throat before he said, “She's right you know, about you being family.” And because Nick had been honest with him, he added, “She’s a better mom than I had.”

Nick studied him, eventually nodding as if he understood the truth Jason shared with him. “Yeah. She’s cool.”

“You think maybe she’s worried about you? The way you took off and all?”

Nick slumped in his hoodie. “Yeah. Probably.” Picking his head up to look at Jason, he said, “I don’t want Sabrina to ruin everything.”

Jason couldn’t agree more. “I know the feeling.”

Chapter Fifteen

Razor edges of a chainsaw slashed through each of Izzy’s nerves. Thanks to Sabrina’s late arrival, numerous clattering trips to the bathroom and five am roaming and puttering about, Izzy hadn’t slept all night. After waiting two hours for Nick and Jason to return, all she’d needed was a good night’s sleep. Too bad she didn’t get it. Sabrina didn’t know the meaning of good houseguest.

Izzy recognized and understood the game in startling clarity. They’d played it several times. Sabrina was pouting because she hadn’t gotten her way. Every other time she’d come home, Izzy gave up the master bedroom, ran out and shopped especially for her visit, bent to Sabrina’s will.
But not this time. She couldn’t be bothered. She’d had enough of accommodating everyone in her life.

Slamming her bedroom door, she cringed. Thank God, Nick was already on his way to school. He’d never let her forget it. Curls of dread clawed at her stomach as she approached the spare bedroom on tip-toe. Midway through
she stopped and strode with her normal gait. Why bother? She wouldn’t tiptoe in her own house.

Though, as Izzy passed the spare bedroom, Sabrina’s voice filtered through the door.
On the phone. Talking in hushed murmurs. Unable or unwilling to stop herself, Izzy leaned in and darted a furtive glance down the hallway. No way in hell she wanted Nick or Jessica to catch her eavesdropping.

The sounds were muffled, as if Sabrina deliberately lowered her voice, but Izzy could catch the thread of conversation.

“I know you have no reason to believe me given my history, my father’s, my brother’s. But I’m clean this time.”

Izzy could hear a soft rapid
 
thump thump thump
 on the hard wood and could just picture Sabrina’s leg moving in rapid succession up and down as she sat on the bed.

“I need access to my trust fund now. How the hell am I supposed to live without any money for two years?”

Her ears strained and her heart raced as she heard footsteps approach the door. She whipped away from the doorway, flattening her back against the hallway like a cockroach in daylight. As the footsteps faded, she let out a breath. Decency and politeness should have her off to work, but ever since Jessica had told her to find her inner bad girl, she couldn’t seem to find a decent bone in her body. She leaned closer to the door, careful not to jangle her keys.

“Look, I’m supposed to have that money within six months of leaving rehab, as long as I’m clean. I’ve been out for four already.” She paused. “I don’t give a shit what my mother wants. She has no right. There has to be something you can do.”

The tone and volume of the last comment made Izzy jump. But she didn’t move out of earshot.

Sabrina’s voice took on a hint of desperation. “Okay, look. Maybe I can borrow against it. I have some personal debts to pay off, and they won’t be willing to wait two years for payment.” There was a beat of silence,
then she added. “Look, these are not the kind of guys that will accept a bank transfer. I need to deliver the money in cash.”

Izzy knew when she’d heard enough. As she shuffled down the hallway toward the kitchen, she wondered why she always got her hopes up that Sabrina was clean and out of her old life. Some things never changed.

Finally in the sanctuary of her studio, she turned on some Nina Simone to match her morose mood and settled in for a long morning of reviewing proofs of Jason. If anything could temporarily take Sabrina off her mind, it had to be Jason.

She always preferred to compile an absolute yes list of images she couldn’t live without, before she compiled a list of maybes. Her only problem was, with this subject, she had a mountainous list of absolute yeses and hardly any maybes or nos.

Even the flat two-dimensional photos of Jason caused her blood to stir. She picked up the negative sheet containing the vulnerable photo he’d admired the night before. Immediately, images flashed though her mind of Jason picking her up, anchoring her against the wall.

No matter how many cold showers she took, or how many cups of coffee she drank to clear her head, she could not erase the branding scorches of his hands from her body. Heat flooded her core in preparation. Izzy groaned as she tried to refocus her attention on the comp sheets. What a hell of a time to get a libido.

She needed a chocolate chip cookie. She cast a glance at the window to the backyard as she wondered if she could make it into the house unseen and unheard to grab a cookie. 
I’m an idiot for avoiding my own house
. As she whittled down her selection of keepers, Izzy realized she needn’t avoid the house. Trouble would always come to her.

Down the hall, she heard the sounds of Jessica singing along to Nina’s bluesy tones. But the singing abruptly stopped, followed by a battle of wills. Jessica’s snotty voice was Izzy’s thirty second warning. “Do you have an appointment? She’s very busy.” While Jessica was occasionally snotty to Simon, she’d never been outright rude, and her tone at the moment bordered on bitchy.

Of course, Sabrina being Sabrina, she didn’t heed Jessica’s testaments and barged right in. Jessica, hot on Sabrina’s Prada-covered heels, followed, protesting every step of the way. “Izzy, I’m sorry, if you want me to call the police, I can.”

The corners of Izzy’s lips threatened to curl, but she kept them under control. She wasn’t kidding about the cops. They’d been called in before when a patron had refused to pay for her portrait session. Jessica didn’t play. And she had always loathed Sabrina.

“It’s all right, Jess. I can handle it.”

Jessica looked mutinous and glared at Sabrina, but she turned to leave.
“Yeah, all right. But just holler if you want me to call them.”

Izzy made a mental note to give Jessica a raise if she sold a few photos at the gallery opening. She didn’t bother to halt her selection process of photos she worked on. “What do you want, Sabrina?”

“Gosh what a frosty welcome.” She cast a narrow-eyed glance in Jessica’s direction. “When are you going to get a presentable secretary, Iz?”

Izzy glanced up and wondered what kind of gilded, delusional world Sabrina lived in. “She’s a friend. She’s also good at her job.”

Sabrina rolled her eyes. “Oh right, but come on, the way she looks? Please, I’m surprised she doesn’t scare off your clientele.”

Izzy felt the familiar throbbing in her clenched fists and forced her fingers to release and relax. “She’s an asset. Any client who disapproves, I can go without their money.”

Sabrina glanced toward the door again. “Would she really call the police?”

“Yup.
She would.” Izzy wanted Sabrina out. If she looked at her too long, she was likely to say some things Nick might regret.