Taylor decided to be honest. “It’s pretty serious,” she said. She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and in a hushed voice said, “I think I’m kinda falling in love with him.”
Her mother’s brow arched. “Kinda? You sure about that?”
The cake she’d just swallowed felt like Mount Rushmore as it went down her throat. How long had her mother been in this kitchen?
“It wasn’t supposed to happen,” Taylor admitted. “We were only pretending to be together.”
She told her about their agreement to pretend they were dating, and how her feelings had gradually changed from fake to the real thing.
“Oh, I know what happened,” her mother said. “You played yourself.”
“Oh my God, Ma! You havegotto stop hanging out with Freddie! And I did not play myself.”
Okay, so maybe shehadplayed herself. How foolish had she been to think she could feign a relationship with Jamar Dixon andnotfall for him?
“So what comes next?” her mother asked. “If you’re no longer working as his trainer, can he still function as the spokesperson for your business?”
“What do you think?” Taylor asked. “If you were in the market for a fitness trainer, would knowing that I once worked with Jamar Dixon entice you to hire me?”
“I would hire you no matter who you worked with, but then again, I’m biased.” She winked, slipping the last bite of her cake into her mouth. “Mmm . . . I’ll need you as a trainer if I don’t get the rest of this cake out of the house.”
“Just say the word. I’ll give you the family discount,” Taylor said with a grin.
She sat silently as her mom rinsed her plate in the sink, then slipped it in the dishwasher. Taylor had cautioned herself against bringing up this topic before she left Austin, but now that she had her mother alone, it seemed like the right time.
“Mom, when I was in school, did you ever suspect that I maybe had a learning disability?”
Her mother swung around, a puzzled frown furrowing her brow. “No. Why would you think that?”
“Well . . .” Taylor shrugged. “I don’t have to tell you that school has never really been my thing. But I never understoodwhyit was so hard for me. It’s something that has bothered me for a long time.”
“And you think it’s because of a learning disability?”
“Possibly,” Taylor said. “I’ve been reading up on it. And then Jamar noticed some similarities between me and a friend of his who was diagnosed with a learning disorder in high school.”
She gave her a more detailed explanation of Jamar’s suspicions, and how first seeing it in Silas helped him to recognize what Taylor was doing.
“Oh, Taylor.” Her mother walked over to her and took Taylor’s hands in hers. “I would say that I don’t know how I could have missed it, but that would be a lie. Icompletelyunderstand how this could have happened. I was so busy in school myself.” She ran her hand over Taylor’s hair, then settled it on her cheek. “I am so sorry, baby. I should have done a better job at paying attention.”
“I’m not blaming you, Ma. It was easy enough for it to go unnoticed.” Taylor covered the hand that cupped her cheek. “The important thing is that I’m now aware that this is potentially an issue. I have an appointment for a formal assessment this coming Tuesday.” She peered up at her mother. “I’m hoping to enroll in school for the winter semester so I can start working toward my degree.”
“Taylor Renee,” her mother whispered. She pressed a kiss to Taylor’s forehead. “I amsoproud of you.” The admiration in her voice wrapped around Taylor like a warm blanket.
“Thanks,” she said. She could barely speak past the emotion knotted in her throat. “I’m proud of me too. I’ll let you know how things go after the evaluation.”
Her mother jutted her chin in the direction of the guest bedroom. With mischief crinkling the corners of her eyes, she said, “Let me know how things go with that too.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Jamar leaned back in his office chair and pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes. The pounding in his head had lessened to a dull ache, but he could feel it ratcheting up again. If he had to listen to his agent bitch for another second, he was going to hurl the computer through the window.
“Micah, you don’t understand.”
“Damn right I don’t understand. Do you know how many strings I had to pull to make this workout happen? A lot of fucking strings, Jamar!”
“And I appreciate it, but—”
“I don’t want your appreciation. I want your ass at that training facility so you can show these scouts you’re ready to play. For weeks you’ve been talking about all the work you’re putting in, how you’ve been training for hours and hours every day. Was that all bullshit?”
