“What do you mean, he left?”

“He went to D.C.”

“On business?”

“He said it was football business.”

Emily searched Jenny’s expression. “And?”

“And, I think he lied.” Suddenly dizzy, Jenny braced a hand against the wall.

Emily reached for her. “Jenny?”

“I’m fine.”

Emily took her arm and helped her to one of two armchairs in the corner of the large rectangular room.

“What the hell is going on?”

Embarrassed, Jenny eased down into the chair. “Same old, same old. I’m crazy about him, and he’s just having a good time. I thought I could handle it. I really did.”

“Did he say that?”

Jenny shook her head. “Two nights ago…well, he joked, and I kind of freaked, and this morning he left. And I don’t know what that means. And I’m trying not to care. But I do care.” Her chest hitched. “I really do.”

Emily crouched down next to the armchair, placing her hand over Jenny’s. “I’m so sorry I went on about me and Cole.”

“I’m sorry to be such a wet blanket.” Jenny felt a sting in the back of her eyes. “Honestly, I don’t know why I’m so emotional.”

“PMS?”

Jenny laughed. Wouldn’t it be nice to have such a simple explanation? In fact, now that she thought about it, maybe that was the explanation. She did the math in her head.

She usually got her period on a Saturday. Was it this Saturday? It had been nearly three weeks since the wedding, and before that-

Her stomach crashed into a free fall.

“Jenny? You just turned white as a sheet.” Emily tightened her hold.

Jenny struggled not to panic. “Do you have a calendar?”

“Sure. In my phone.” Emily produced the phone and pressed a few buttons with her thumb, holding it out for Jenny to see.

“Which weekend did we go to the Albatross Club?”

Emily turned the phone so that she could see the calendar. “That had to be the twelfth. Because it was a pay week for me.”

A roar sounded in Jenny’s ears. “Oh, no.”

“Oh, no, what?”

“Oh, frickin’ no.”

“What?”

“I had my period that weekend.”

“And?”

“And, I’m just doing the math.”

“But-” Emily’s eyes went wide, and her mouth formed a perfect circle.

Jenny stood up from the armchair and took two staggering steps backward. “It can’t be. No, no, no.”

“The night of the wedding?”

Jenny made an inarticulate exclamation.

“You must have used a condom.”

“We did. We did.”

“Then the mathematical odds are in your favor.”

“Right.”

Emily was right. Jenny forced herself to calm down. What she needed now was more information.


At the interview in D.C., Mitch had been offered everything Cole predicted and more. It was a significant and meaningful job, with a laundry list of perks and a chance to work with kids all over the nation. If he had to leave professional football, there was no better way to do it than this.

So why was he hesitating?

Why had he asked the White House Senior Advisor for a few days to make up his mind? It wasn’t geography. He’d never planned to stay in Royal long-term. And if he wasn’t with the team, it didn’t matter where he lived. The salary was great, plus he’d built up an almost embarrassing nest egg through appearances and endorsements over the years.

So, it wasn’t the money. It was Jenny. It always came back to Jenny. He didn’t want to leave her.

He paused in the lobby of the Rathcliffe Hotel, gazing unseeingly through a shop window. First he only saw a reflection of the lights behind him, then slowly his eyes focused on the shiny jewels in the display. Against a backdrop of autumn maple leaves, gold necklaces, platinum bracelets and colored stones of every description were arranged on crystal stands.

He found himself staring at a round diamond solitaire, set in platinum, with tiny emeralds at each side.

“Nobody buys an engagement ring in a hotel gift shop,” came a familiar voice.

Mitch shook himself back to life and turned to see Jeffrey. “What are you doing here?”

“We’re playing in Baltimore tomorrow night.”

“And that brings you to this hotel how?” Mitch resented Jeffrey’s sudden appearance. He really wanted to be alone.

“Cole told me you’d be here.”

Mitch cursed out loud. “He swore he’d keep quiet about the job.”

“He didn’t tell me why you were here. Though you just did. What job?”

“It’s nothing.”

“You’re looking at a job in D.C.?”

“None of your business.”

“What about Jenny?”

“None of your business.”

Jeffrey braced a hand against the wall. “You’re zoned out staring at engagement rings here, Mitch.”

“I’m not staring at anything. I’m just zoned out.” Mitch paused. “I’m thinking about the job.”

“So, that’s it. You just leave her? Thanks for the memories.”

“It was always going to be like that.” Just not yet. Not yet.

“You’re a moron, you know that?”

Mitch clamped his jaw against an angry outburst. What the hell was Jeffrey doing here anyway? “Why are you here?”

Jeffrey’s tone abruptly changed. “I heard the verdict came in on your shoulder.”

“Twenty to life,” said Mitch, knowing he sounded bitter.

“Man, I’m sure sorry about that.”

Jeffrey and Mitch’s friendship definitely didn’t lend itself to talking about their feelings.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“It sucks.”

“I’ll live.”

“Mitch.” There was clear compassion in Jeffrey’s tone. He was in a better position than most people to understand what Mitch was going through.

“You know,” Mitch gave in. “Half the time, I think, yeah, I’ve had a good run, better than most, longer than most. I am thirty, and it ain’t gonna last forever. Other times, I want to put my fist through a wall.”

“Might want to use the left.”

Mitch coughed out a cold laugh. “Good advice.”

Jeffrey slid his glance away. “You know I’m here for you, right?”

“Thanks.” They didn’t need to belabor the point. But Mitch appreciated the offer.

Jeffrey cleared his throat. “So, when does the job start?”

“I haven’t said yes.”

“Are you going to say yes?”

Good question. Mitch shrugged. “I guess it’s more about the timing.” So, how long did he need? Two weeks? Two months? The TCC Board had made it clear all along they would understand and make arrangements if he needed to make a career change. But how could he possibly pick an end date for the relationship?

“And more about Jenny?” Jeffrey guessed.

“It’s complicated,” Mitch allowed, tired of pussyfooting around.

“Make it simple.”

“I can’t.”

“You know, man. If you don’t want her.”

Mitch felt his blood pressure spike, and his hands curled into fists. He struggled not to snarl at Jeffrey. “You can’t have her.”

“Dude. Did you just see what you did there?”

“Showed some good taste?”

“Your head flies off at the mere thought that some other guy might look at her.”

“Not every other guy.” Just guys like Jeffrey who would most certainly hurt her. Mostly. And, yeah, okay, all the other guys, too.

“Yes,” Jeffrey articulated slowly. “Every other guy. And I’ve already made my position crystal clear when it comes to Jenny. So you have less reason to worry about me than most guys. But look at you.”

Mitch couldn’t argue. For a long moment, he found himself imagining her expression if he was to give her that ring in the window. And then what? Marry her?

Part of him wanted to go for it, but a more rational part worried this was all happening too fast. It couldn’t be real.

“Let’s go grab a beer,” Jeffrey suggested.

“Only if we change the subject.”

“No problem.”

“The lounge is on five.”

“Let’s leave the hotel. There are some great places down Pennsylvania Ave.”

Mitch shrugged. What did it matter? Liquor was probably as good a way as any to switch up his thought patterns. And he didn’t really care where he drank it.

A uniformed doorman let them out, and they turned right, going against the majority of pedestrian traffic along the wide sidewalk. It was four in the afternoon, late enough that the business crowd was swelling the streets, while last-minute shoppers rushed through their errands. The street was a maze of cars, minivans, buses and high-end automobiles ferrying VIPs from meetings to dinners to corporate and political functions.

“See, if it was me,” said Jeffrey, pulling on a glass shop door. “I’d wow her with something along these lines.”

Confused, Mitch glanced at the sign. Too late, he realized Jeffrey had just ushered him into the showroom at Tiffany’s.

“Very funny.” Mitch gave a mock laugh, while a salesman quickly approached them, obviously appraising the quality of their suits and watches as he did.

“Good afternoon, sir,” the man greeted heartily.

“Just looking,” Mitch quickly put in.

“Something in a solitaire,” said Jeffrey. “The last one he liked had a couple of small emeralds.”

The man beamed. “I’m Roger Stromberg. At your service. Please, let me show you our Esteme collection.”

He motioned them toward one side of the store, and Jeffrey immediately fell in behind.

“I’m outta here,” Mitch declared.

Jeffrey clapped a firm hand on his back. “Wouldn’t try it if I was you. You’ve got a bum shoulder, and I’m a better tackle.”

“This joke’s gone on long enough.”

“He’s got cold feet,” Jeffrey loudly explained to the salesman, dropping his large frame into one of two padded chairs in front of a display case.

“I understand.” The suited salesman gave a sage nod. “Thing to remember in this circumstance is that picking out a ring doesn’t commit you to anything. We’re happy to keep it on hold for a period of time. Or we’ll simply use today to make sure you understand your options. Then if, at a later date, you want to make a quick decision, you’re all set.