“Not today, you won’t have time.” Sophie lightly prodded her toward the front desk where the telephone still rang, the lines lighting up like fireflies, and prayed Raine would get over the flu soon.

“Okay, the main desk is covered,” she said aloud. “Now I can move on to the next order of business.”

Spencer. Just where was he?

She dialed his home number, but his answering machine picked up immediately. She tried his cell phone next but it went right to voice mail. She pursed her lips. It wasn’t like him not to check in if he was going to be late. Had the media leak sent him temporarily underground?

She worried about how he’d handle the public and the press and about his mental state. After all, he’d kept this secret for a lifetime. He’d always been vague about his prior marriage. She remembered asking him about it when she was a little girl. She’d never received a straight reply and now Sophie understood why. He must be in a panic now.

Sophie knew she had to find him and soon. In addition to being someone she looked up to and respected, he was a close friend of the family and had been for years, even before the merger. He had never let business rivalry affect his friendship with Uncle Yank and he had been there for Lola when she’d thought things were over with Yank for good. It was time the family returned the favor even if Sophie was the only family member around to do it.

She looked forward to the challenge and not just because helping Spencer spin his life story to the press would give Sophie something to think about besides being alone and uncertain of what turn her life would take next. Although she had to admit the diversion had merit.

No, Spencer Atkins was a good man with a good heart. He’d weather this “coming out” with Sophie’s help, while she’d do her best to represent the absent Hot Zone family members. He deserved nothing less.

SPENCER ATKINS DESERVED a swift kick in the ass, Riley Nash thought and tossed the newspaper across the den in disgust. What had started as a mention in a gossip column had escalated to the back page of all the major New York newspapers.

Big-time sports agent Spencer Atkins was gay. Who knew? Not his only son, that’s for sure.

Riley shook his head. What a sham his life had been. He’d always known who his biological father was even though he’d been adopted by Senator Harlan Nash of Brandon, Mississippi. A right-wing conservative with aspirations of living in the White House. A man whose constituents wouldn’t be happy to know that the senator’s wife had once been married to a gay sports agent-and that Senator Nash had raised the man’s son.

Riley groaned and ran a hand through his hair. Spencer Atkins and his mother had parted ways while his mother was pregnant. She’d met Harlan Nash while she was going through her divorce and from what Riley understood, it’d been caring at first sight for Anne, love at first sight for Harlan. He’d married Riley’s mother knowing she was pregnant with another man’s child and raised him like his own. Harlan could be controlling and dictatorial with his staff and on occasion with his family, but no one could fault him for his goals, his drive…or for his heart. Over the years, his mother had grown to love her husband deeply.

Having grown up in Mississippi, Riley wasn’t fond of his stepfather’s politics or of the political climate in his hometown. The recent polls had proved it was anti gay marriage. But he loved Harlan Nash and wasn’t about to see him hurt by something that was beyond his control.

Riley’s mother, Anne, had always suggested he tuck the knowledge of Spencer’s parentage away and do nothing with it, but Riley had been curious. Even more so when he’d realized what his real dad did for a living. A natural athlete from day one, Riley desperately craved the man’s approval and acknowledgment and he’d tried hard to get it.

As a kid, Riley thought once Spencer saw his son’s talent in his chosen field, Spencer would reach out to him. Yet despite being a junior-high and high-school quarterback, despite countless trophies, awards, write-ups in the local papers, nothing about Riley had ever captured Spencer Atkins’s attention. He never answered Riley’s letters or returned his calls.

Still, he’d had his biological father in mind while he’d played QB for Boston College and won the Heisman. With no reply to his request that Spencer represent him, Riley had been the first-round draft pick, with Yank Morgan as his agent. Still nothing from his old man. He’d taken that silence as the final slap.

Once Riley had accepted that the man would never publicly acknowledge him as his son, he’d told himself he didn’t care. If the man didn’t want anything from Riley, Riley didn’t need a damn thing from him. He no longer worried about what other people thought of him and had carried the same attitude over into his life, doing things his way.

Riley had started his career with Cincinnati and hoped to end it where he played now, with the New York Giants. He was a good enough player to get away with coloring outside the lines, something his coaches and his agent accepted and understood because as much as he looked out for number one, he looked out for his team as well.

Looking back at the path he’d chosen and the reasons behind it, Riley realized it was a damn good thing he loved his profession. Otherwise he’d have wasted his life pursuing a football career just so he could get the attention of a man who wanted nothing to do with him.

As today’s headlines proved, Riley didn’t know a damn thing about who Spencer Atkins was or what he wanted. He only knew what Atkins wanted the world to see. So in addition to “absent, disinterested parent,” Atkins could now add “fake” to his impressive résumé.

“Way to go, Pop,” Riley muttered under his breath.

“Did you say something?” Julia, a beautiful redhead who’d spent the night in his bed, strode in from the other room.

He’d been so caught off guard by the news in the paper, he’d all but forgotten Julia was waiting in the bedroom.

Coming up beside him, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed a kiss against his cheek. “What’s going on? Why didn’t you come back to bed?” She eased her body into his lap.

“Nothing important.” He turned to kiss her full on the lips, running his hand over her breasts. His body responded immediately, assuring him he was nothing like the old man.

The old man he only knew about from stories his mother had told him when he was a kid. They’d broken up because they were incompatible, she’d said. They’d wanted different things out of life. Those once vague words began to make more sense now. Had his mother known about Spencer all along? Had she found out during their marriage? Or was she discovering the truth now over her morning coffee, along with the rest of the world?

Suddenly, Julia rose to her feet. “Your mind’s somewhere else,” she chided softly.

“Yeah.” He glanced down, unable to deny the obvious.

“Well, I really need to get back to the hotel anyway. My plane leaves at noon.”

Julia was a flight attendant who traveled the world and sometimes called Riley when she was in New York. Sometimes not. The arrangement worked well since Riley had an irregular schedule, thanks to his joint-custody arrangement with his ex-wife.

His thirteen-year-old daughter, Elizabeth, came first on his list of priorities. Yet another way he was nothing like the man who hadn’t raised him.

He followed Julia back into the bedroom.

She strode over to the bed, unaffectedly naked and began picking up her clothes. “Did I tell you Jacques asked me to marry him?” She casually tossed the news his way.

He raised an eyebrow, not surprised the words didn’t elicit a reaction one way or another. He enjoyed Julia but he wasn’t in love with her.

“Then how come I don’t see a ring?” he asked lightly.

She shrugged. “I told him I’d think about it.” She pulled her shirt over her head, the spandex molding to her near perfect curves. “I’m getting tired of the traveling, the hotel rooms. It’s lonely. I could give up my career and not look back,” she admitted.

Riley nodded. “I hear you. There comes a time everyone has to make choices.” He paused and met her gaze. “I take it this is…goodbye, then?”

She nodded. “I couldn’t say yes without telling you. And besides I thought we deserved one last time together.” She treated him to a smile.

An easy parting, he thought thankfully. He’d been blessed that way. Even his short marriage to Lisa had ended amicably and they’d never argued over custody or money, mainly because as the mother of his child, he’d denied her nothing and even increased her monthly payments as his career had soared. Just a case of marrying too young and expecting too little.

Similar to his own parents, or so he’d always thought. Once again he caught himself wondering about Spencer Atkins. Had Spencer’s marriage been a ruse? An attempt to live a so-called normal life? Had Riley been conceived out of love as he’d been told by his mother or as the unfortunate result of a lie on the part of his father?

So many questions. He wished he didn’t give a damn, but Riley could no longer deny his curiosity. And if he wanted to know more, so would the reporters who’d gotten wind of this story. They’d dig and dig deep. They’d find the marriage certificate that bore the names of Spencer Atkins and his mother and they’d discover that she’d had a child.

In no time the scandal would reach his stepfather, who was running for the United States Senate as a representative of the great state of Mississippi. A lifetime’s worth of hard work and dedication, and aspirations of living in the White House would go down the drain. Riley wouldn’t let that happen.

Of course he’d be a liar if he didn’t admit some self-interest in the matter, too. If the press found out the relationship between Riley and Atkins, Riley’s life in the locker room would be a living hell. The guys would question his masculinity and not even his marriage and kid would save him. Like father, like son the guys would say. Riley could hold his own with his teammates and he knew the scandal would blow over with time, but his teenage daughter didn’t need the hassle from the fallout.

Riley shook his head at the irony. A lifetime of wishing the man would acknowledge him and now it was the last thing he wanted.

His best option was to reach Spencer before the media did and convince him not to talk. Which shouldn’t be a stretch for a man who’d made silence an art form. Frustration filled Riley over the need to turn to Spencer Atkins for anything, but he reminded himself that it wasn’t his own needs driving him. He’d be making the effort for his parents and his daughter.

The time had come for father and son to meet face-to-face at last.

THREE DAYS HAD PASSED and Spencer was officially MIA. Sophie paced her office, wearing a path in the plush carpeting, which she’d discovered was twenty-five steps from the window overlooking the East River to the bathroom in the far corner. Back and forth, back and forth, but no matter how far she walked, the reality never changed. The football draft was three weeks away and Spencer Atkins had taken off for parts unknown.

John Cashman, this year’s Heisman winner and almost newly signed client, was calling hourly to speak with Spencer or Yank. Yank’s cruise made him unavailable and the younger agents weren’t appeasing Cashman with their answers.

Sophie’s palms sweated over the athlete’s last threat. If he didn’t speak to Spencer by the end of the week, he’d sign with the Cambias Agency, their number one competition.

Uncle Yank and Spencer inspired loyalty and cared about their clients’ future, while Cambias only saw dollar signs in his bank account. But a young, healthy, starry-eyed kid who’d never been injured wouldn’t appreciate the experience Spencer and Uncle Yank brought to the table. And at the moment, Cashman wasn’t listening to anything Sophie or the other agents had to say.

The dog she was babysitting stared from the place she’d adopted as her own. Noodle, Uncle Yank’s Labradoodle, carelessly lounged on the client-designated chair. When not rolling over onto her back for a belly rub, she licked herself in unmentionable places. Sophie didn’t mind watching the dog, but animals really weren’t her thing.

Which was why she steered clear of any personal relationships with professional athletes, she thought, giving herself her first real laugh of the day. A laugh she desperately needed. With the recent marriages, honeymoons and pregnancy, Sophie was in charge here at the office and she’d never felt so alone. It was a state she’d judiciously avoided since her parents’ deaths. She’d also avoided feeling as lost and scared as she had when she’d lost her mother and father by maintaining firm control over life.