Without a Doubt. Kathleen Long
behind the camera, but otherwise, look out.
“All I’m saying is that you could do a lot worse.”
Sophie traced her finger along the edge of the door handle. “I don’t want to do anything at all.”
“I’m just saying—”
“Can it.” She cut him off before he could launch into his standard lecture on love and family and security.
Sophie knew he meant well, but she didn’t need anyone to remind her of how alone she felt in the world, not that she had anyone but herself to blame. She’d had plenty of opportunities for romance. She’d merely chosen not to take them.
She’d watched her mother’s dependency on men spiral out of control during her childhood. After her father had deserted their family, her mother had bounced from one man to another—or rather, the men had bounced in and out of their lives.
No one had stayed around long enough for Sophie and Becca to grow attached. Thankfully.
After the two sisters had grown and left home, their mother had done the unthinkable. She’d taken her own life, choosing to leave this world rather than live alone.
Sophie shuttered her heart to the pain that threatened with the memory. She was not her mother, and she’d never allow herself to be that needy. Never.
As far as she was concerned, being alone was safe.
Being in love was not.
She swallowed down the lump that formed in her throat just at the thought of being in love—at the thought of Gary. She’d seen the look in his eyes during their meeting, felt the question that had hung unspoken over their table.
Why?
Why had she hurt him? Why had she panicked and run when he’d told her he loved her, asked her to marry him?
Why?
She’d asked herself the same question countless times during the past seven years, but the answer had always been the same.
Needing him, loving him, wasn’t a risk she was willing to take.
“Here we are.” Cookie pulled the news van to a stop in front of the Alexander home.
Sophie took a quick appraisal of the stately structure, noting the coordinated porch furniture and the oversize pots of flowering perennials still in full bloom, hanging on even though the chilly Philadelphia nights had begun to set in during the past few weeks.
As Sophie climbed the steps, the front door snapped open before she could press the doorbell. Ally Alexander smiled up at her, clutching a pink bunny rabbit in one hand and waving with the other.
“Hi. Mommy said you were coming to read a story.”
Maggie Alexander’s laugh rumbled down the hall from behind her daughter. “Do a story, sweetheart. Not read a story.”
She lovingly patted her daughter’s head then shook Sophie’s hand. “Welcome. We’re delighted for this opportunity.”
We?
Sophie’s unspoken question was answered before she could speak it out loud.
A handsome man stepped to Maggie’s side. Sophie squinted, racking her brain for recognition. She knew him from somewhere, but he was most definitely not Maggie’s husband, Robert. So who was he?
“Trevor James. Sophie Markham.” Maggie gestured between the two of them. “Trevor is my life coach, though he prefers the term personal adviser. Did you two get a chance to meet at the party?”
No, they hadn’t. But Sophie recognized him now. Life coach to the rich and famous of the Philadelphia region. The man had made quite a name for himself in the elite circle of the business and social sets. In recent months, his face had been on the news almost as much as her own had been.
Sophie extended her hand. “We didn’t, but it’s a pleasure to meet you now. I’ve heard quite a lot about you.”
“All good, I hope.” James gave her hand a quick pump, but held her gaze a fraction of a second too long, sending a frisson of unease skittering across Sophie’s nerve endings.
“Naturally.” She freed her grip from his.
Tall and lean, he stood at least six foot three. His dark waves fell in a precise cut that Sophie found borderline artificial. He stepped back, allowing Sophie and Maggie to walk ahead of him.
As much as she told herself she was letting her imagination run amok, Sophie swore she could feel his eyes burning into the back of her skull. The tiny hairs at the base of her neck pricked to attention, and she fought the urge to reach back and smooth them.
In a matter of minutes, Cookie completed their setup and locked the necessary lighting into place. Sophie gave silent thanks, not wanting to make small talk with Trevor James any longer than she had to.
She’d lied when she’d thought she hadn’t let herself care for anyone since her breakup with Gary. Cookie’s friendship and grace under pressure were two things she’d be lost without, and she cared for him. Over the years, the gentle soul had become the father she’d never known.
He shot her a wink. “Ready when you are, Ms. Markham.”
She rolled her eyes at his use of formality, knowing he was the only one in the room who could see her, then she turned her attention to Maggie.
Trevor James sat at the woman’s side, his obviously practiced smile glued in place on his chiseled face.
Even though Sophie had done her best to gently suggest the piece would be more genuine if her life coach was not in the shot, Maggie had insisted.
An emotion shone in James’s icy eyes, an emotion Sophie couldn’t quite put her finger on. Smugness? Confidence? A certainty that he’d get his way no matter what?
She shook off her instinctive dislike of the man and began the interview. She’d no sooner begun than Ally popped into the living room, launching herself into her mother’s lap.
“Sorry.” Maggie gripped her daughter’s hand and marched her toward the kitchen. She returned a few moments later. “She’s just excited. If she stays with her coloring books, we’ll be safe.”
But no more than a few minutes passed before Ally repeated her performance.
Each time the girl appeared, Sophie found herself more and more distracted by the assuredness that had begun to settle into her bones.
Ally Alexander was her niece. Professional objectivity be damned. Robin had somehow survived the fire and had been adopted by the Alexanders.
As crazy as the theory sounded, Sophie’s gut knew she was right.
Her head knew.
Her heart knew.
And she’d do whatever it took to get her niece back.
She stifled the gasp that threatened to burst from her lips. Fought the urge to bundle the girl into her arms and bury her face in the baby-soft hair. She battled down her desire to press her lips to the butterfly birthmark, just as she’d done the day Robin had been born.
“Sophie.” Cookie’s voice broke through her thoughts. “Earth to Sophie.”
“Sorry,” she mumbled, reaching for the notepad on her lap onto which she’d scribbled her interview questions.
“No, I’m sorry,” Maggie replied. “I’m afraid my daughter’s a bit wound up today. She doesn’t want to miss anything.”
Sophie tipped her head, listening to the sweet notes of Ally’s singing coming from the kitchen. “Would she like to watch us?”
Maggie’s expression brightened. “She’d love it, but I don’t know how we’d ever get her to sit still or be quiet.”
Sophie