A Chance with You. Yahrah St. John

a bottle of champagne.

      “You look good, Ty,” Spencer commented, eyeing his best friend’s jeans, white shirt and blazer. At six foot seven, all Ty’s clothes had to be custom-made, which was why he was always smartly dressed.

      “Well, it’s all this clean living and good food,” Ty replied, patting his ever-increasing waistline. “You know, no drinking and no drugs and of course Brielle. Meeting her really made all the difference.”

      Spencer nodded. Since meeting his second wife, Ty had kept his promise to refrain from all the drinking and drugs he’d abused during his basketball career and settled down to life as a sports anchor for a local TV station in Atlanta. The couple was also about to welcome their first child. “I’m really happy for you, Ty.”

      “I wish the same for you,” Ty said, staring at him intently. “It’s time for you to let go of the past, Spencer.”

      Spencer suspected Ty knew he still harbored a lot of guilt for what he thought he could have done to help his brother. “That’s easier said than done.”

      “You did all you could for Cam. We both did,” Ty replied. “You have to move on. Matter of fact, I think it’s time you settle down.”

      “With who?” Spencer asked. “With the basketball groupies hanging around the arenas, ready to land them a pro player or a former one? You know how it is in the business. It’s hard to meet anyone truly genuine and without any ulterior motive.”

      Ty nodded. “I hear you.” Ty had got caught in that very same scenario with his first wife, who’d married him just for his money. It hadn’t taken him long to cut her loose, but not before she’d taken him for a mint because he’d married her during one of his drunken escapades and without a prenuptial agreement. “But you can’t give up, either. There has to be a good woman out there. I mean when was the last time you got laid?”

      Spencer laughed at Ty’s blunt question. “That’s none of your business.” He pointed in his direction. “But if you must know I’ve been celibate for a while. I just need to meet someone with substance, who I can hold an intelligent conversation with. You know anybody like that?”

      “I’ll ask Brielle if she has any friends,” Ty replied. “But all I’m saying is that man was not meant to live alone.”

      “And as soon as a beautiful, smart woman walks into my life, I’ll snap her up.” Spencer snapped his fingers.

      “You never know, she could be just around the corner,” Ty stated. “Like at Allyson Peters’s party tomorrow for Parkinson’s Research.”

      “I’m not up for any rubbery chicken at a charity event.”

      Ty eyed him suspiciously, “It’s for a good cause. And who knows? You might meet someone.”

      “A socialite?” Spencer rolled his eyes. “That’s exactly who I don’t need to meet.”

      “Just come. Brielle and I are going. And look at it this way. At least you won’t be working until all hours of the night. Mona told me you leave here well after the sun goes down.”

      “And how would she know?”

      “You do know Mona, right?” Ty raised an eyebrow. Spencer’s assistant was sharp and nothing escaped her.

      “Oh, all right, I’ll go,” Spencer reluctantly conceded. “But if I have a bad time, I’m blaming it all on you.”

      Ty smiled, happy that he’d gotten Spencer to see things his way. “Good. We’ll have fun tomorrow night.”

      * * *

      Raina drove Zoe to her parents’ the following evening so they could babysit while Raina and Summer had their catering event. Her mind went back to her meeting with the family attorney earlier that day.

      “This picture certainly isn’t enough to establish paternity,” the attorney had said. “But it can certainly show that your sister Alexa knew Mr. Davis. Do you have any other evidence?”

      Although Raina had been unable to supply him with any other evidence, he’d promised to hire an investigator to look into her sister’s past. He’d also indicated he would be sending a letter to Spencer requesting he either sign an Acknowledgment of Paternity or submit to a genetic test to establish paternity.

      “What if he doesn’t want to take a genetic test?” Raina had inquired.

      “Then we take this matter to the court,” the attorney had said. “Where he’ll then be forced to submit to a genetic test. Either way, we’ll get results. It’s just easier for all parties if he submits voluntarily.”

      Raina had no idea how Spencer Davis was going to feel being served with paternity papers, but she had to know if Zoe’s father would step up to the plate. She wanted her niece to experience life with two parents. As soon as the thought came into her mind, Raina realized the finality of it. She was Zoe’s mother. She would be raising Zoe, potentially with Spencer, a man she knew nothing about other than what she’d read on the internet.

      After the funeral, Raina had decided to look him up online. Initially, she’d been stunned by the negative press about Spencer Davis. He was a reformed bad boy who’d been known to womanize, drink and carouse with all sorts of bad fellows, and he’d exhibited the worst behavior in public. The tide had changed, however, and recent press had Spencer Davis leading the straight-and-narrow life. He’d retired and opened his own sports agency. He’d garnered a few big clients as well as a few Olympic athletes. One thing was clear: Spencer could easily afford child support.

      But what if Spencer wasn’t Zoe father? What if the photo was a bad lead? Was she prepared to take care of Zoe alone?

      Her mind wasn’t able to answer because she’d arrived at her parents’ home. Before she could open the back door, Zoe had already unbuckled herself and jumped out of the car, reminding Raina that she needed to be more cognizant of the child safety locks.

      Zoe raced up the steps and rang the doorbell. Raina sighed as she popped open the trunk and pulled out Zoe’s overnight bag. Slinging it over her shoulder, she grabbed her purse and headed toward the now open front door.

      In eager anticipation of her only grandchild, her mother had swung open the door and swept Zoe into her arms. Raina found them in the hallway and saw her mother smothering Zoe’s face with kisses.

      “Hey, Mom,” Raina said, closing the door behind her.

      “Hi, hon.” Her mother barely hazarded her a glance as she removed Zoe’s jacket and led her to the living room, where her father was no doubt watching the nightly world news.

      “Hello to you, too,” Raina said, following behind her.

      Her mother and Zoe joined her father on the sofa and snuggled together.

      “Hey, baby girl,” her father spoke first. He gave her a quick smile before returning to his news program.

      It was moments like this that reminded Raina of the indifference she’d always felt from her parents growing up. They’d thought they were having one little girl, Alexa, and had only been prepared for one child. Imagine their surprise when the doctor had told them he heard a second heartbeat during delivery and her mother had gone into labor again to give birth to Raina four minutes later.

      And now that their favorite daughter had been taken from them so suddenly, her parents seemed to have gravitated to Zoe like bees to honey. They’d been surprised and deeply hurt when Alexa had indicated she felt Raina would be a better parent for Zoe. They, like Raina, had assumed Alexa was leaving custody to them. They were the logical choice, not a single, career-minded woman.

      “Well,” Raina said and shifted uncomfortably from side to side at the doorway. “Here’s Zoe’s overnight bag.” She dropped the bag with an unapologetic thud onto the floor. “I’ll be by tomorrow to pick up Zoe for Caroline’s birthday party.”

      Even though she would