Maya blushed.
“Dad!”
“Oh, come on now, Sammy.” He waved off his son’s embarrassment. “You should’ve have told her by now. And if you didn’t, I just helped you out.” He winked at Maya.
Maya smiled warmly and flushed as he kissed her hand. Sam’s father beamed at him. “Sammy, I really like this one.” He looked at her affectionately. “Baby pictures, next time.”
“If there is a next time.” Sam’s mother came up behind her husband.
Sam caught his father’s eye and found his father’s jaw clenched. He gave an almost imperceptible nod to Sam to just go. Sam bit the inside of his cheek and guided Maya out the door with his arm.
He settled Maya into her seat and jogged around to his side and sat down. “What?”
Maya was staring at the house.
“Your dad is super sweet.” She faced him, a small grin on her face. “I see where you get your charm.”
“He really likes you.” He started the car and pulled out.
“Your mom seems like a really good cook. The smells from the kitchen were amazing!”
Sam grinned. Diplomatic. “She is.” He glanced over to see Maya staring out the window again. He reached over and squeezed her thigh. Maya put her hand on his and turned to face him. He grabbed her hand and kissed it. “Don’t worry. She’ll come around. Mom isn’t really a people person.” He cleared his throat and concentrated on the road. “And I’ve never really brought a girl home before.”
This time, Maya kissed his hand. Her lips were soft, and full of promise. “So I was the first?” The warmth in her face, and the way she looked at him—she loved him, he knew it. Why wouldn’t she say it?
“Mmm-hmm. I told you. I’m in love with you.” He didn’t even hesitate. He loved her, and the more he said it, the better he felt. And the more he loved her.
Later that evening, Sam reached into his shorts’ pocket and found an envelope. Puzzled, he opened it to find five hundred dollars in cash, along with a note in his father’s handwriting.Charles, the jeweler, is a patient of mine. Hope this helps.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
SAM
New York, 2012
ITWASUNTHINKABLEto Sam that he go back to the piles of briefs and motions on his desk, after having laid eyes on the young lady who was his daughter. This person who existed partly because of him, whether he knew about her or not. His stomach was in knots and his thoughts bounced from elation at having this child, to anger at not being told about her, to confusion as to why Maya had kept the truth from him.
Rather than dealing with deadlines and paperwork, he called his secretary and told her to reschedule his meetings and send some files to his apartment. He’d look at them tonight. Right now, he needed a game. Someone would be at the soccerplex.
The soccerplex was bustling with activity. He hadn’t played a game in weeks. A recreation team made up of men in their late twenties was warming up to play. The team was set for keeper, so he decided to play striker. Just as well—he needed to run. And kicking a ball could be quite satisfying.
For most of the first half, there was no Maya, no Samantha and no Paige.Paige. Thoughts of his fiancée distracted him and he missed a pass. He needed to tell her, and soon. Samantha was his daughter, and no matter what Maya said, his phone call to Byron Stevenson and the juvenile courts would not be the last thing he did for her.
This realization hit him just as the opposing team’s keeper kicked the ball back into play. The ball was airborne and coming in his direction. Sam deftly brought the ball down, noted the keeper’s weak side, and kicked the ball directly into that corner of the net. The keeper dove, but too late, and missed the save, as Sam had anticipated. Goal scored.
His thoughts turned to Maya as the game continued. His stomach was roiling with nerves, his concentration was off and he started missing plays.
The younger guys started cracking jokes about “the old man,” until he finally stepped off the field.
Back at his apartment, he opened the door to find Paige pacing the length of the apartment as she spoke on the phone. Her side of the conversation was fraught with words likecenterpiece,classicandfix it. As she hung up, he opened a bottle of Paige’s favorite red wine and poured two glasses. He handed her one and kissed her cheek as they clinked glasses and drank.
She rolled her eyes. “So sorry—but I’m trying to get all that linen stuff fixed and I was super busy at the gallery today.” She put her arms around him and looked him in the eye. “Mmm, don’t you smell great? Soccer today?”
“Yes. Soccer today.” He tried to keep his voice casual. Paige knew that he usually played when he needed to clear his head. “Did some files come for me?”
She nodded her head toward the table. “Right there.” She stepped back from him, her hands still in his. “Everything okay?”
Sam fingered her engagement ring. They had shopped for it together so she could have the most perfect and unique ring. It had to be different from what her friends had, yet big enough for them to envy without being garish. She’d chosen a ring with a four-karat diamond in a custom platinum setting. It was unique in every way.
