Page 89 of Truth or More Truth
“Honey, you know I want you to be happy and married and giving me grandbabies, and if that’s with a professional athlete, then so be it.” She points her steak knife at me. “But I’d prefer if it were with someone who lives in Chicago and has no fear of being traded to another team far away from here at any moment.”
My heart sinks. “Well, the good news is he’s not a baseball player. But he doesn’t live here. He lives in L.A.”
“Los Angeles!” My mother nearly leaps out of her chair again, but for a different reason than before. “You can’t move that far away! We just got you back last spring.”
“Settle down, my dear,” Dad says softly. “If she loves this man, she needs to feel like she has the freedom to move to wherever the two of them need to be. We can’t hold her back from her happiness.”
Tears fill my eyes. “Thank you, Dad. I don’t know if I love him yet. And I don’t want to move. I need you to know that. But hehas a daughter, and their life is in California. Moving here isn’t really an option for them.”
“A daughter?” Mom’s eyebrows raise as she sets down her wine glass. “How old is she? Are you prepared to be a step-mother? Has he been married before? Is his ex-wife still in the picture?”
Dad settles his hand on her arm and speaks to me. “How about we start with his name and how you met him, Lissa, and we’ll go from there?”
I nod, my heart squeezing at Dad’s use of his childhood nickname for me. “His name is Bobby Jacobs. He’s Diego Sanchez’s agent, and he was a groomsman in both of the Hamilton weddings.”
Dad nods. “Yes, I remember him being one of Randall’s groomsmen. And more than that, I know of him by reputation. He’s a bit older than you, isn’t he?”
“Yes, he’s ten years older, which is closer in age to me than you two are to each other.” My parents have a thirteen-year age difference. “And don’t let his professional reputation turn you off. He’s a really good man outside the office.” I tilt my head to the side. “Actually, I think he’s a good man inside the office, too. He’s just determined to always get the best deal possible for his clients.”
“I didn’t mean anything negative by mentioning his reputation,” Dad says. “As a businessman, I know public perception isn’t always equal to reality. I’ll reserve any judgment until I hear what you have to say about him and I meet the man myself.”
I give my parents the CliffsNotes version of Bobby’s past. I don’t gloss over his previous marriage and divorce, but I also don’t divulge all the details of his relationship with Nanette.
“Nanette is still a big part of his life,” I say, “and Kelli’s, obviously. That’s another reason why he needs to stay in California. If he moved here, he’d have to not only uproot his daughter but also move Nanette here, too.”
“It says a lot about the man that he’s taking care of a woman he’s not legally or even morally obligated to,” Dad says.
I shrug. “He loves her.” I hold my hand up to my mom when she starts to speak. “As a friend, not as anything more. He has nointention of ever having a romantic relationship with her in the future. He’s not Jeremy, Mom. He says he thinks of Nanette as a sister, and I believe him.” The jury is still out on whether Nanette thinks of Bobby as a brother, though. I need to verify that for myself. “If you don’t trust my judgment, then trust Diego’s and Randall’s and Ash’s. They all speak incredibly highly of him.”
“I trust you,” Mom says. “You’re sure about this? That this is what you want—to date this man who lives across the country and has a teenage daughter and an ex-wife who may always be around?”
“Yes, I’m absolutely certain this is what I want. I’m serious about this relationship and seeing if it could lead to marriage. If I weren’t, I wouldn’t be willing to put in the effort it’s going to take.”
thirty-six
. . .
It’s early Saturday afternoon, and I’m waiting in the lounge at the private Miami airport where Diego’s chartered plane should be landing any minute now. Actually, I’m pacing. I never pace. But I want this weekend to be perfect, and I’m nervous I won’t succeed in making it so. What do I know about entertaining a woman for a weekend? Nothing. That’s what. Thankfully Kelli and Nanette gave me a few pointers, as did Randall and Diego. I haven’t heard from Ash since he got home from his honeymoon, but that’s not surprising. He’s not much of a phone talker, and I wasn’t in Chicago long enough last week to meet up with him.
Even though Melissa said she’d be willing to share my hotel room, I didn’t want to put her in a position she can’t back out of if she changes her mind and wants her own space. There were no vacancies at my hotel, nor were there two rooms available at any other decent hotel in the Miami area, so I arranged for us to stay in a former client’s vacation condo in Miami Beach. He’s not in town, and Melissa and I will each have our own bedroom if we decide to go that route. It’ll also be nice to have a living area where we can relax this evening and tomorrow before we head to the stadium in the afternoon.
I arrived yesterday so I could meet with a few clients who were coming in early. I wanted to get all my meetings out of the way before Melissa got here. Not that I think she can’t handlebeing on her own for a few hours, but why would I want to waste even one moment of time we could be spending together—as long as she wants to spend every minute with me, that is?
The door bursts open, and Diego enters with his arms flung into the air in a V.
“We have arrived! The party may begin!”
I accept the tight hug he forces upon me as I say, “Why didn’t you let the ladies come in first, you caveman?”
He lets go of me with a laugh. “Oops! Will you believe I was so excited to see you that I couldn’t help myself?”
I shake my head as I keep my eyes trained on the door. “No. You saw me a week ago.”
Diego claps me on the back. “I wish I could see you every day,hermano.And I could, if you’d just …”
I don’t hear anything else he says because my girlfriend has entered the room. My smile is immediate, and she beelines directly to me and wraps her arms around me with no hesitation. I squeeze her tightly and drink in her lemon-and-vanilla scent. She searches my eyes for a moment, silently asking whether I’m OK with kissing in front of people we know. I answer by pressing my mouth to hers in a short but meaningful kiss.
Diego whistles and claps, making Melissa’s cheeks burn. I shoot him a glare, which only serves to spur him on to cheer some more. Then he flings his arms around us and kisses us both on the cheek. I playfully shove him away, but it warms my heart to see how much he wants this to work out for me.
