Catching Heat Page 23

  As Livvie’s cheeks turned beet red, Josh just smiled. “Yes, but when I was a little kid I saw the movie Edward Scissor hands and it scared the crap out of me. As a result, I became deathly afraid of scissors.”

  Selena tilted her head as if she didn’t quite understand. “Are you serious?”

  “Yes. I have a fear of sharp objects. Aichmophobia is the official term, Mrs. DeMarco.” Angie bit back a smile as Josh shot her an earnest look before continuing, “I’m working on it, though. Just last week I was able to use a knife at dinner. It was a real breakthrough.”

  “Uh…congratulations. I guess,” her mother said, as silence descended on the room.

  “Thank you,” Josh said solemnly and then directed his attention back to Livvie who, judging from her expression, couldn’t quite decide if he was telling the truth or if he was putting one over on her mother. “We should get going if we want to get back to my parents’ house for dinner.”

  Livvie sprung up from the couch like a jack-in-the box. “Well, considering that amazing breakthrough, I guess your mom won’t have to hide the knives tonight.”

  Josh’s eyes widened and then he laughed as Livvie pulled on her coat.

  “Drive safely.” Selena’s tone was sharp as Josh and Livvie headed for the door. “And don’t go over the speed limit.”

  “I won’t, Mrs. DeMarco,” Josh said, before closing the door. “I’m an extremely safe driver. I’ve been to traffic school five times.”

  “I don’t like that boy,” Selena grumbled once they were alone. “He looks like…like some sort of deviant with all that hair. Why, his hair is longer than Olivia’s.”

  “And that makes him a deviant?” Angie put her hands on her hips. “When did you become so judgmental? Josh is a good kid.”

  “More like a wise-ass,” her mother muttered with a shake of her head. “I deal with them every day at the restaurant.”

  Angie heaved a sigh and moved to the chair where she’d laid her coat over the back of it. “Don’t worry about Josh. He’ll take good care of Livvie.”

  “With my luckhe’ll knock her up like his brother did to you,” Selena said as she reached for her purse and rose from the couch. “I just hope she’s able to do what you couldn’t.”

  “And what’s that, Mom?” Angie said, almost afraid to ask.

  “Keep her legs closed.”

  * * *

  An hour and a half after he sat down at a secluded table at the Lido Café with Leah Porter, J.T. had come to the conclusion that Ms. Porter would make a damn fine sports reporter. He had no clue if her knowledge of other sports was as extensive as it was for baseball, but if it was, then she had a good shot of someday landing a job at one of the sports channel networks.

  “On a personal note,” Leah said, after a cursory glance at his left hand. “I see you’re wearing a wedding ring. The last I heard, you were single.”

  J.T. peered at Leah over his coffee cup and smiled. “I got married just after Thanksgiving.”

  “That was sudden. I don’t recall you were ever reported to be dating anyone seriously.”

  “I rarely discuss my personal life.” J.T. sipped his coffee. “It’s not all that interesting.”

  Leah laughed and picked her small glass of orange juice. “A lot of women out there would disagree, however I’m not going to pry. My interest is in what athletes do on the field, not in their love lives.”

  J.T. leaned back in his chair and gave a nod to the waitress as she inquired if she could take his plate. “When did you decide you wanted to cover sports?”

  “In high school.” Leah took a sip of her juice then set the glass on the table. “Both of my parents were athletes in high school and college. My dad ran track and played tennis, and my mom was a competitive swimmer. We were the family always out doing something physical. I started working on the school newspaper when I was a freshman and when no one else volunteered to cover sports, I jumped on it.” She smiled and brushed an errant strand of blonde hair from her forehead. “I majored in journalism in college and I’ve been trying to get my foot in the door as a sports reporter ever since I graduated. It’s tough.”

  “Do you have an agent?” J.T. asked.

  Leah shook her head. “Not yet. I met with one, but she said that I needed more experience under my belt before she would agree to represent me.” A frown creased Leah’s smooth brow. “I’m just worried that now that I’m working at Sacramento Life I’ll be identified mainly as a lifestyle reporter.” She pointed at him. “This interview is the only thing I’ve had in months with any substance to it. Thank you so much for agreeing to it.”

  “You’re welcome,” J.T. said, and thought of the tough questions she’d lobbed at him during the interview. She hadn’t avoided his back-up status and had pointed out that despite his lack of playing time, his stats proved that he was an asset to the Blaze and that he’d be a steal on the open market when his contract was up. She could have been kissing his ass, but he was ninety-nine percent sure she wasn’t. Despite the ego stroke, the facts backed her up and she’d done her homework—including a good amount of research on his high school and college efforts. For that reason, J.T. had a gut feeling that the agent who’d rejected Leah Porter was going to be regretting that decision one day very soon.

  As Leah finished the breakfast she’d neglected while she was interviewing him, J.T. reached behind him and fished his phone from his jacket pocket. After sending off a quick text he set the phone on the table and looked up to catch the stare of an older woman sitting at a table across the room. The Lido Café was a popular breakfast spot and despite the fact that it was Christmas Eve, most of the tables were filled. From where he was sitting, J.T. had a good view of the entrance but he’d been so involved in the interview that he hadn’t been paying attention to his surroundings. But now he could practically feel the malevolence emanating from the woman at the far table. He craned his head to get a better look at her, but all he could see in the midst of the other diners was her pinched face. Whoever she was, she wasn’t a fan.

  J.T. forgot the woman as his phone pinged. He picked it up, read the message and then met Leah’s curious gaze. “Nick wants to meet with you after the holidays.”

  “Does he want to see the interview before I submit it?”

  “No. The meeting would be to discuss possible representation.”

  Leah’s jaw dropped and her eyes widened with astonishment. “Representation?” She put a hand to her chest. “He’s interested in representing me?”

  J.T. nodded.

  “Oh, wow.” Leah’s eyes lit up. “Logan-Johnson is one of the best agencies in California.” Her shrewd eyes honed in on him. “You asked him to meet with me, didn’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why? You don’t even know me.”

  “I wasn’t sure what to expect from this interview, but you impressed me. You know your stuff, you’re professional and whether or not anyone wants to admit it, looking good on camera is important. You’ve got all the bases covered. I’m not promising Nick or his partner will sign you, but you’ve got a foot in the door. Make the most of it.”

  * * *

  Sitting across from her mother at The Lido Café, Angie felt sorry for whomever Selena had had in her cross-hairs for the past several minutes. She wouldn’t wish that hostile gaze on anyone.

  As she feared, the brunch was not going well—her mother had been mostly silent on the drive over and since they’d sat down at the table, the only talking she’d done was to place her order.

  “Mom, you can’t shut me out all day.” Angie unfolded her napkin and placed it on her lap. “We need to talk. There’s something I need to tell you.”

  “If you’re going to tell me your husband isn’t anything like your father, you can save your breath,” Selena said, finally looking at her. “If I had any doubts, I’m sure about it now.”

  “How? You haven’t even met him yet.” Angie brushed her hair from her shoulder and let out an exaspe
rated breath as her mother shrugged and picked up her coffee cup. “Mom, J.T. isn’t like Dad. He’s not even close to being like Dad.”

  “All ballplayers are like you’re father,” she said, cradling her cup with hands weathered from hard work. “Most just get away with it longer than he did.”

  Angie wanted to scream in frustration at her mother’s stubborn bitterness. “I thought so too, but I was wrong. I was so caught up in the past and what Dad did that I almost didn’t give J.T. a chance. If I hadn’t gotten pregnant I never would have discovered the kind of man he is.”

  “I knew this would happen.” Selena set her cup on the table with such force the coffee sloshed over the rim and wet the tablecloth. “You’re in love with him,” she said in a voice taut with controlled fury.

  “Yes.” Angie stiffened her shoulders and met her mother’s angry gaze head on. “I love him. He’s the kindest man I’ve ever met.” She leaned forward. “And if you’d just give him a chance you’d see you’re wrong about him.”

  Selena let out a snort. “I doubt that.”

  “Can’t you try? For me,” Angie implored. “I appreciate that you don’t want me to get hurt, but can’t you have some faith in my judgment?”

  “Where was your judgment the night you slept with him and didn’t use a condom? If you had any common sense at all you would have used protection. And now look at you.” Her mother raked her with a contemptuous gaze. “You’re about to go down the same road I did.”

  “It’s not the same road. J.T. would never cheat on me,” Angie said, and then lowered her voice when the couple at the next table stopped talking and turned to stare at them.

  “Then where is he this morning?”

  Angie let out an exasperated breath. “I told you. He had a business meeting.”

  Selena rolled her eyes. “On Christmas Eve day? It’s starting already and you’re too blind to see it.”

  Angie rubbed her temples as her head began to pound. “Jesus, I knew you were bitter, but I never realized how much.”

  “I guess you’ve forgotten about walking in on your father screwing one of his whores in our bed? How long will it be before you walk in on J.T. and some bimbo in your bedroom?”

  “You know what, Mom? You need to stay out of this. This is my life and my marriage. I trust J.T. and I’m staying married to him. End of story.”

  “You’re making a mistake, Angela,” Selena said, as the waitress delivered their order. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  About halfway through the meal Angie tried one more time. “I think you’ll like J.T.’s parents. Sharon and Joe are wonderful. Did I mention that I’m helping Sharon out at her coffee cafe? I’m providing her with baked goods until her regular baker rebuilds her house. It was destroyed in a fire.”

  “I thought you’d given up baking. It’s a tough business to make a living in.”

  “Like clothing design?” Angie asked, as old resentment flared inside her. Why hadn’t she seen what a dream killer her mother had been when she was younger? And now Selena was doing the same thing to Livvie. “Is that why you’ve convinced Livvie not to pursue the one thing she loves doing?”

  “It’s just a hobby.” Selena picked up a knife and spread butter on her English muffin with precise strokes. “Just like baking was for you. Besides, Livvie has an aptitude for science. Medicine is the right direction for her.”

  “I do with well with numbers, but I’ve never found any personal satisfaction from accounting work.”

  “It paid the bills, didn’t it?”

  Angie didn’t bother to answer and the rest of the meal was spent in virtual silence. Sharon had raved about the food at the Lido Café, but Angie could barely taste it, and the festive Christmas music that filled the room wasn’t improving her mood one bit. Joy to the world and peace on earth. There was no way that was happening. Not tonight.

  Chapter Nineteen

  J.T. hadn’t expected Angie’s mother to greet him with open arms, but her hard and unyielding expression when they’d been introduced surprised him. Selena DeMarco didn’t like him and she hadn’t bothered to hide it. And now, as she sat in the back seat of his F-150, he could almost feel the heat of her disapproving eyes burning into the back of his neck.

  He arrived home—after stopping at the jewelry store to pick up a gift he’d ordered for Angie—just before Angie and her mother returned from brunch. He’d placed the gift box under the tree with the other presents that he and Angie had picked out for his family, and hers, after a trip to the mall last week. Angie had wrapped them with colorful Christmas wrap and each package had a bow that was color coded for each family member. J.T. had to admit, her organizational skills were impressive and had even begun to rub off on him. He’d gotten exponentially better at putting his things away and not leaving his dirty clothes and other stuff lying around the bedroom.

  As he stepped on the brake to stop the truck at a red light, he glanced in the rear-view mirror and found Mrs. DeMarco had taken a break from skewering him with her eyes to look out the window. Something about her face was vaguely familiar but he wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t a family resemblance to Angie, for if there had ever been one it was gone now. Selena’s face was deeply lined and there were dark shadows underneath her eyes. Her dark hair was heavily streaked with gray and pulled back in a bun so tight he wondered if it could be hurting her head. Her expression seemed to be one of permanent constipation—she gave the appearance of a woman who’d never known a happy day in her life.

  Angie’s sudden gasp startled him. He looked over and saw her hand resting on her stomach. “Is she kicking?” he asked.

  “It’s like she doing back flips in there or something.” Angie took his hand and placed it on her belly, just above where the seatbelt was tucked over her hips to avoid pressing on the baby. “Can you feel it?”

  “No,” he said, a little envious that Angie could feel their baby move inside her. It was the only thing he was envious of. The pain of childbirth sounded worse than a direct blow to the nuts.

  “She?” Selena asked from the back seat. “You’re having a girl?”

  “Yes. I tried to show you the sonogram picture at brunch but you didn’t want to see it.” Angie’s voice was strained. “You’ll have a granddaughter in April.”

  Selena didn’t reply and an uncomfortable silence filled the truck. J.T. cleared his throat. “April isn’t that far away, we need to start thinking about painting the nursery and buying some furniture.”

  “We can do that after the holidays.” Angie covered his hand with hers and as the last rays of daylight played upon her face, he could see a trace of sadness in her eyes. Her mother’s visit had taken a toll and they weren’t even done with the night.

  “Have you heard from Olivia?” Selena asked as the light turned green and J.T. stepped on the gas.

  “She texted me that she and Josh are at J.T.’s parents’ house,” Angie said, staring straight ahead. “Would you like me to text her back and ask her if she kept her legs closed?”

  “That remark was uncalled for, Angela,” Selena snapped as J.T’s jaw dropped. This conversation was not going to end well. He could feel it.

  “But not when you said it about me, right?”

  “Angela Marie DeMarco, don’t you dare talk back to me.”

  “It’s Sawyer, Mom,” Angie said tersely. “I’m married now. Get used to it.”

  It took J.T. only a matter of minutes to get to his parents’ house, but each minute felt like an eternity after that short but tense exchange between Angie and her mother. He hoped things didn’t go from bad to worse during dinner.

  An hour and a half later, J.T. was no longer hopeful that the evening could be salvaged. Despite his family’s best efforts, Selena DeMarco had barely spoken a word—to anyone. His parents had tried their best, but whatever the topic, Angie’s mother remained aloof and non-committal. And it became evident very quickly that Selena wasn’t at all excited about becoming a grandmother.


  Most of the family was gathered in the living room, where his parents’ large Christmas tree sat in front of the big picture window and filled the room with the scent of pine. Holiday music, tuned low, provided a backdrop to the usual goings on at a Sawyer gathering. At a table in one corner of the room, Jake, Josh and Livvie were engaged in a lively game of Scrabble, and Justin, no longer using his crutch, sat at the other end of the couch silently observing the dynamics in the room. Angie sat rigidly next to her mother on the love seat and looked miserable.

  J.T. smiled as Josh groaned and Livvie cheered at getting a triple word score to take the lead in the game. Inasmuch as he didn’t care for Angie’s mother, he liked Livvie a lot. In the past hour it was easy to see her deep affection for her sister and although she bore a slight resemblance to Angie, she was an inch or two taller and her hair was much shorter and not as dark. She and Josh had apparently hit it off and it was nice to see Josh enjoying himself again. His parents had mentioned that Cindy was home from Boston for the holidays and J.T. had been worried how that news might affect Josh. At the moment, Josh didn’t seem too concerned about his former girlfriend, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t on his mind. Or that he wasn’t hoping to see her over the Christmas break.

  Needing a breather from all the so-called holiday cheer, J.T. pushed himself to his feet and moved to the love seat. “Can you come with me for a few minutes?” He reached for Angie’s hand and pulled her up. Selena side-eyed him and kept her lips pursed as she thumbed through one of the decorating magazines his mom kept in a wicker basket under the end table.

  “Where are we going?” Angie asked as he led her out of the living room, through the dining room and into the kitchen where his mother was putting the finishing touches on a tossed salad and his father was slicing the ham. A freshly baked cherry pie—J.T.’s favorite—sat on the counter, its cinnamon and sugary aroma filled the kitchen and reminded him of Christmases past.

  “I thought you could use a breather. It was pretty tense in there.”