A baby. Her baby. Someone who’d love her unconditionally.
“But the damage Douglas caused...” She paused as fury blazed in Harry’s pale blue eyes. “I was told the chances of me getting pregnant without intervention are nearly zero.”
“Then have IVF.”
She laughed. Harry had never met a problem he couldn’t solve. “I can’t afford it. Even with the generous salary you pay me, I need every penny to fund Lizzie.”
“What if I gave you the money?”
“You’ve already done too much. I can’t take anything more from you.”
He shrugged. “It’s money that won’t go to my kids. You’re welcome to it.”
“I appreciate the thought, but I couldn’t.”
“All right. How about a loan?”
She began to waver. “But I couldn’t begin to repay you until after Lizzie graduated.”
“I don’t need you to pay me back.” He held up his hands. “I know you’ll insist on it, but I don’t care as long as you take the money.”
Though Jenny wanted to grab the offer—realizing it was an opportunity that might never come again—she was wary of leaping into anything rashly. “I’ll think about it.”
He leaned forward, forcing her to meet his gaze. “You’ve spent half your life looking after your sister. She’s happy, healthy, confident and doing what she wants. Now it’s your turn. You deserve a chance at your own dream coming true.”
Jenny swallowed the lump in her throat. “Thank you.”
Long after Harry had left, she sat in her rocking chair, mulling over what he’d said. Perhaps Harry was right. Perhaps this was her time. The mantle of fear that had weighed heavily on her shoulders for so long had finally lifted. Maybe it was a sign she should start a new phase of her life. One that was about what she wanted.
A baby.
Tentatively at first, then with growing enthusiasm, she thought about becoming a single parent. Then she grabbed her iPad and began to do some research. The more she read, the more the idea seemed possible.
It was past midnight before she put her pen down. It could work.
She sat back in the chair, rocking silently. Nestled alongside the happiness in her heart was a new emotion. One she hadn’t felt in far too long. Hope.
CHAPTER TWO
TWO MONTHS LATER.
“Damn, I wish we were still playing.”
Tru’s older brother, Ike, slammed his beer down on the table and glowered at the big screen, where New York had just scored against Washington, in Game 6 of the first round of the play-offs. “We won the season series against the Rangers and would be doing a better job of beating them than those jokers.”
“The last two games ‘those jokers’ played against us, they got a boat race—6–1 and 7–2.” Tru didn’t mention that Ike, the Cats’ goaltender, had been pulled for the backup in both games. “It wasn’t our year.”
Ever since their season had ended, he and his brother seemed to have talked about nothing else. They’d analyzed the situation to death; from the coaches to their teammates, crucial plays in crucial games, injuries, setbacks and what should have been done at the trade deadline to boost their faltering roster. None of which had helped ease the pain and frustration of being on summer vacation while other teams—including their rivals from across the Hudson—were still in the hunt for the Cup.
Ike swore. “You’re not going to spout that crap about ‘only one team can be champions’ and ‘there’s always next year.’”
“Get real. I’m as pissed off as you are, but I have bigger things to worry about. Like where the hell I’ll even be next year. According to the rumors, I’ll be traded at the draft.”
“You should stay off the fan boards and social media sites. Most of the junk they post isn’t worth the time it takes to read.”
At least his brother didn’t blow smoke up his ass. “I can’t avoid it, Ike. My name’s everywhere and everyone’s hammering me about my future. If we were in the play-offs, no one would question if I still have what it takes.”
“Anyone with a brain knows you do. For sure, the people that matter do.”
“I wish I had your confidence. The Cats haven’t even opened a dialogue with my agent, despite Andy pressing them hard.” Tru drained his beer. “They’ll talk to him about his other clients, like J.B. and Vlad, though.”
“Things are dicey in the front office right now. They’re probably stalling until our owners decide what they’re going to do about the Cats management. The Scartelli brothers have said publicly their team’s poor finish in the standings is unacceptable and they plan to put it right. Until it’s clear what’s happening to the coach, they won’t move on player deals.”
“If Max stays, he’ll be forced to shake things up, and a new coach always reworks the team his own way. Either way, it looks bad for me.”
From the TV, the horn sounded the end of the first period and coverage switched to commercials. The waitress brought their steaks and another round of beers. For several minutes, the brothers concentrated on their food.
Then Ike raised a hand in greeting to someone behind Tru.
A familiar tickle between his shoulder blades alerted Tru to who his brother was smiling at. Though he knew it was a mistake, Tru couldn’t resist turning around.
Jenny.
His heart jerked in his chest, as it always did when he saw her. As it had since the first time he saw her, back in first grade.
Her smile, bright for his brother, faded when she noticed Tru. Her expression became cool and distant before she turned away pointedly.
Tru’s gaze lingered, despite his best intentions. She must have come straight from work; she wore a blue suit that matched her eyes. The above-the-knee skirt and coordinating blue spiked heels showed off her long, shapely legs.
His stomach twisted when a man approached Jenny and hugged her, before pulling out a chair for her. There was something familiar about the guy. Tru’s tension eased when he realized it was her boss, Harry Sturridge. Though Tru was annoyed with himself for caring who Jenny ate dinner with, he couldn’t help being relieved it wasn’t a teammate. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with that tonight.
Sturridge said something to make Jenny laugh. The husky sound seemed to reach out and caress Tru through the bustle and noise of the restaurant.
Shifting to ease the sudden tightness in his groin, he forced himself to look away and focus on his meal, slicing into his rib eye.
Surprised when Ike didn’t make his usual crack about the antagonism between him and Jenny, Tru looked up. Ike was staring at the television, where, based on the logo on the screen behind the commentators, a studio panel was discussing the Ice Cats.
“What’s up, bro?”
“I’m not sure.” Ike pulled his cell out of his pocket, tapped the screen and frowned.
Tru knew instantly it wasn’t good news.
Ike didn’t keep him in suspense. “The Scartellis just fired Phillip Hannah. They’ll announce a new general manager in the next few days.”
Tru’s appetite vanished. That was a bigger organizational shake-up than anyone had anticipated. “Max’s days must be numbered, too. A new GM always wants to bring in his own coach. That means changes throughout the roster—maybe even a