“Okay, Little Miss Dictator,” Micki said, laughing. “What’s the first order of business?”
Although Sophie normally made notes on what they should cover in their weekly meeting, today Sophie’s pad was empty. Sort of like her life, she thought.
Since coming home from Mississippi, life had been as conspicuously quiet as it had been crazy busy before the trip. Although only three days had passed, she recognized the distinct change. No more break-ins, no sabotage, no problems. Eerie but true, Sophie thought. Meanwhile the police had come up blank on any leads. A niggling fear remained, but Sophie refused to live petrified until the next incident. For all she knew, whoever had started things had decided he had better things to do than harass her.
“We should discuss the draft,” Spencer said into the silence. “On the first day, Yank and I signed Cashman five minutes before the announcements began. Not only is he our client, but he’s signed with the team with the worst record, the San Francisco 49ers.” The team with the worst record always received the first pick in the draft.
Everyone around the table applauded. Although the Heisman winner always went to the most needy team in the league, they’d still accomplished much for their newly signed client.
“Did you have any problems with Miguel Cambias?” Sophie asked.
Spencer shook his head. “As a matter of fact, less than none. Go figure. He was present and active, but he didn’t go near Cashman.”
Sophie bit down on her lower lip. Had she targeted the man unfairly? She’d have to talk to Cindy, but her friend had taken the past few days off, and Sophie hadn’t had a chance to apologize again or see what her talk with Miguel had accomplished.
“Anything else on the agenda?” Micki asked.
They discussed the various open client files and agreed to wrap things up until next week. Then the partners headed back to their own offices.
Sophie didn’t stop to talk to Spencer alone because she was certain he had no desire to discuss Riley with her any more than she wanted to talk about Riley with him.
RILEY OPENED the pizza box so he and Lizzie could dig in. They each pulled out a slice of pepperoni pizza, took their cans of Coke and headed for his den with the big-screen TV. One of the perks of coming to Dad’s was that he let Lizzie eat dinner in front of the television. It was their guilty secret and, even with his new determination to be a real father and lay down rules, he wasn’t about to deny her this treat.
“So how’s school?” Riley asked.
She shrugged. “Mr. Gordon hates me.”
“Science, right?”
She nodded.
“How could anyone hate you?” he asked, looking proudly at his smart, gorgeous daughter and trying to suppress a grin.
She stuffed her mouth full with pizza, then said, “I studied all night and he gave me a seventy-four! Can you believe that?”
Riley raised an eyebrow. “Define all night. Was that all night in between your shower, blow-drying your hair, straightening your hair, talking on the phone and IMing your friends?”
A guilty flush stained her cheeks.
He didn’t envy his ex-wife her full-time job of keeping their child in line. “Sounds to me like you earned that seventy-four and Mr. Gordon doesn’t hate you as much as he’s giving you what you deserve.”
She frowned, then picked up the television remote and began channel surfing in reply.
Riley noted that in the few hours they’d been together, she hadn’t mentioned Sophie at all. Knowing Lizzie, it wasn’t so much out of sight out of mind as it was her wanting to pretend Sophie didn’t exist.
Riley wis
hed he could do the same, but the golden-haired beauty was ever present in his mind. Typically he was a man of action, yet all he could do was hope that she missed him enough to get past her insecurities and hang-ups and give them a chance at a future.
Damian Fuller had had a point and Riley knew three days hadn’t been nearly enough time for her to come to any realizations. He’d just have to sit tight and wait. However, patience wasn’t his strong suit.
“Hey, Dad, look!” Lizzie gestured at the big screen. “Isn’t that your agent?”
Lizzie had met Yank quite a few times over the years. But she wasn’t a fan of sports TV, and when he glanced up, he realized she was watching the local cable entertainment channel. Yank Morgan was being interviewed by the sports-gossip reporter, inset on the screen were photographs of Riley and Sophie, labeled with their names.
“What’s she doing up there?” Lizzie asked in her snottiest voice.
Riley closed his eyes and groaned. He didn’t have an answer but whatever it was, it couldn’t be good. “Make it louder.”