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Cole and Jordan had both been on televised NHL games, not to mention postgame interviews. Their brother, Rick, was a stuntman with movie credits who was married to a famous actress. Jordan’s younger sister had done fashion shows that had been broadcast. And Camilla had her own television program, of course. Sera could understand why Serg felt left out of the limelight. He wasn’t only dealing with his poststroke infirmities but also with not appearing on the marquee alongside the rest of his family. As a physical therapist, she’d seen his frustration in plenty of patients and could sympathize.
“If he wants to be on television, he should consider commercials for a construction industry supplier instead,” Jordan muttered.
“Then why hasn’t he?”
“Because he fancies himself a sommelier these days.”
Sera felt a tinkling laugh bubble up. “A wine expert?”
“Bingo. And guess whose show he thinks would be perfect for a regular guest segment.”
“Oh.”
“Right.”
“Your father just wants to be understood.”
Jordan snorted. “He’s tough as nails and ornery.”
Sera tilted her head. “So you’re telling me this because he might spring up from his seat in the audience and shout something?”
“He can’t spring up from anywhere these days,” Jordan muttered. “And believe me, the only reason he’d shout a comment is to tell me I’m doing something wrong.”
“Does he do that at your hockey games, too?” Sera asked, amused.
“If he does, he’s too tucked away in the stands for people to really notice. Anyway, my point is he may try to insert himself into the show somehow, and I don’t want you to be surprised by anything...unexpected.”
“How does your mother feel about this turn of events?”
“Like the breadwinner who has a temperamental kid on her hands.”
Sera laughed.
“Suddenly she’s the star, and he’s cast in her shadow. Though, I don’t think he’d even admit to himself that’s what he’s feeling.”
Sera tapped a finger against her lips. “There’s got to be a solution to this.”
Jordan shrugged. “If there is one, I haven’t thought of it.”
Just then, one of Camilla’s producers stepped into the room to call them on set.
“Ready?” Jordan asked, searching her gaze.
Sera shrugged. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
Showtime. In more ways than one...
Nine
She was supposed to have had one rule: never get involved with a player.
Except Jordan actually seemed kind of cute and endearing at the moment wearing an apron, but still looking masculine. He was prepared to make a fool of himself under the bright television-studio lights. All for the sake of his mother. Aww.
Sera straightened her spine against the traitorous thought. She needed to get him in top shape and marketable for Dante and his team—and his sponsors. Nothing more.
“Hi, Sera!” Marisa waved as she stepped into the studio with her husband and scanned for an empty seat.
Sera’s eyes widened. “What are you doing here?”
