by Senator Harlan Nash of Brandon, Mississippi. A right-wing conservative with aspirations of living in the White House. A man whose constituents wouldn’t be happy to know that the senator’s wife had once been married to a gay sports agent—and that Senator Nash had raised the man’s son.
Riley groaned and ran a hand through his hair. Spencer Atkins and his mother had parted ways while his mother was pregnant. She’d met Harlan Nash while she was going through her divorce and from what Riley understood, it’d been caring at first sight for Anne, love at first sight for Harlan. He’d married Riley’s mother knowing she was pregnant with another man’s child and raised him like his own. Harlan could be controlling and dictatorial with his staff and on occasion with his family, but no one could fault him for his goals, his drive…or for his heart. Over the years, his mother had grown to love her husband deeply.
Having grown up in Mississippi, Riley wasn’t fond of his stepfather’s politics or of the political climate in his hometown. The recent polls had proved it was anti gay marriage. But he loved Harlan Nash and wasn’t about to see him hurt by something that was beyond his control.
Riley’s mother, Anne, had always suggested he tuck the knowledge of Spencer’s parentage away and do nothing with it, but Riley had been curious. Even more so when he’d realized what his real dad did for a living. A natural athlete from day one, Riley desperately craved the man’s approval and acknowledgment and he’d tried hard to get it.
As a kid, Riley thought once Spencer saw his son’s talent in his chosen field, Spencer would reach out to him. Yet despite being a junior-high and high-school quarterback, despite countless trophies, awards, write-ups in the local papers, nothing about Riley had ever captured Spencer Atkins’s attention. He never answered Riley’s letters or returned his calls.
Still, he’d had his biological father in mind while he’d played QB for Boston College and won the Heisman. With no reply to his request that Spencer represent him, Riley had been the first-round draft pick, with Yank Morgan as his agent. Still nothing from his old man. He’d taken that silence as the final slap.
Once Riley had accepted that the man would never publicly acknowledge him as his son, he’d told himself he didn’t care. If the man didn’t want anything from Riley, Riley didn’t need a damn thing from him. He no longer worried about what other people thought of him and had carried the same attitude over into his life, doing things his way.
Riley had started his career with Cincinnati and hoped to end it where he played now, with the New York Giants. He was a good enough player to get away with coloring outside the lines, something his coaches and his agent accepted and understood because as much as he looked out for number one, he looked out for his team as well.
Looking back at the path he’d chosen and the reasons behind it, Riley realized it was a damn good thing he loved his profession. Otherwise he’d have wasted his life pursuing a football career just so he could get the attention of a man who wanted nothing to do with him.
As today’s headlines proved, Riley didn’t know a damn thing about who Spencer Atkins was or what he wanted. He only knew what Atkins wanted the world to see. So in addition to “absent, disinterested parent,” Atkins could now add “fake” to his impressive résumé.
“Way to go, Pop,” Riley muttered under his breath.
“Did you say something?” Julia, a beautiful redhead who’d spent the night in his bed, strode in from the other room.
He’d been so caught off guard by the news in the paper, he’d all but forgotten Julia was waiting in the bedroom.
Coming up beside him, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed a kiss against his cheek. “What’s going on? Why didn’t you come back to bed?” She eased her body into his lap.
“Nothing important.” He turned to kiss her full on the lips, running his hand over her breasts. His body responded immediately, assuring him he was nothing like the old man.
The old man he only knew about from stories his mother had told him when he was a kid. They’d broken up because they were incompatible, she’d said. They’d wanted different things out of life. Those once vague words began to make more sense now. Had his mother known about Spencer all along? Had she found out during their marriage? Or was she discovering the truth now over her morning coffee, along with the rest of the world?
Suddenly, Julia rose to her feet. “Your mind’s somewhere else,” she chided softly.
“Yeah.” He glanced down, unable to deny the obvious.
“Well, I really need to get back to the hotel anyway. My plane leaves at noon.”
Julia was a flight attendant who traveled the world and sometimes called Riley when she was in New York. Sometimes not. The arrangement worked well since Riley had an irregular schedule, thanks to his joint-custody arrangement with his ex-wife.
His thirteen-year-old daughter, Elizabeth, came first on his list of priorities. Yet another way he was nothing like the man who hadn’t raised him.
He followed Julia back into the bedroom.
She strode over to the bed, unaffectedly naked and began picking up her clothes. “Did I tell you Jacques asked me to marry him?” She casually tossed the news his way.
He raised an eyebrow, not surprised the words didn’t elicit a reaction one way or another. He enjoyed Julia but he wasn’t in love with her.
“Then how come I don’t see a ring?” he asked lightly.
She shrugged. “I told him I’d think about it.” She pulled her shirt over her head, the spandex molding to her near perfect curves. “I’m getting tired of the traveling, the hotel rooms. It’s lonely. I could give up my career and not look back,” she admitted.
Riley nodded. “I hear you. There comes a time everyone has to make choices.” He paused and met her gaze. “I take it this is…goodbye, then?”
She nodded. “I couldn’t say yes without telling you. And besides I thought we deserved one last time together.” She treated him to a smile.
An easy parting, he thought thankfully. He’d been blessed that way. Even his short marriage to Lisa had ended amicably and they’d never argued over custody or money, mainly because as the mother of his child, he’d denied her nothing and even increased her monthly payments as his career had soared. Just a case of marrying too young and expecting too little.
Similar to his own parents, or so he’d always thought. Once again he caught himself wondering about Spencer Atkins. Had Spencer’s marriage been a ruse? An attempt to live a so-called normal life? Had Riley been conceived out of love as he’d been told by his mother or as the unfortunate result of a lie on the part of his father?