Page 42 of The Secret Play

“Like I said, she’s a private person. I didn’t ask. But come to think of it—she wore some kind of mask, so I doubt you’d actually recognize her from that night. Why do you ask?”

My pulse hammered in my ears, and I resisted the urge to use the blood pressure cuff I kept in my top drawer since Mom’s heart attack. “Just curious. What kind of mask did she wear?” Don’t say peacock.

Nico chuckled, shaking his head. “Man, I have no idea. Do you think I was paying attention to stuff like that? It was five years ago.”

I shrugged and smiled to hide the fact I was about to freak out. “It’s like adult Halloween. Someone’s mask tells you a lot about who they are or who they want to be. Thought it might offer some insight.”

“Yeah, I always forget you go in for all that psychology shit.”

“Thanks, Nico. You’ve been helpful.”

He stood, stretching his arms over his head as he prepared to leave. “No problem. And, uh, go easy on her, all right? She’s good people.”

“I’ll do my best.” It was all I could do.

As soon as Nico left the office, I leaned back in my chair, my thoughts spinning in a hundred different directions. Gemma had been at the masquerade. The timing lined up perfectly—five years ago, right before she moved to LA. And she wouldn’t talk about Winnie’s father.

It couldn’t be a coincidence. Could it?

I closed my eyes, letting my mind drift back to that night at the masquerade. As parties went, that one hadn’t been too bad. I’d gone reluctantly, dragged there by the team for a good cause but fully expecting to be bored out of my mind. Whitney had been pushy like always, but it was for the good of the team, and her instincts were second to none. So when she told me to go talk to people, I did.

And then I saw her.

The woman in the blue dress and the peacock mask, the woman who had been unlike anyone I’d ever met. Confident, sharp, with a wit that had disarmed me within seconds. I’d been captivated by her in a way that had surprised me, drawn to her laughter and the way she carried herself. And her body. There was no denying that.

We’d spent the night talking, connecting in a way I hadn’t thought possible in such a short period of time. And when the night ended when we’d shared that one unforgettable moment of passion, I knew I’d never forget her.

But I didn’t know her name. She called me Red. I called her Blue. We had left our masks on the whole time.

Now, five years later, Gemma was in my life. Brilliant, beautiful Gemma, who had captivated me in the span of a brief conversation. Could it really be her? Could the woman who’d haunted my thoughts for years be the same woman who filled my days with light and warmth?

And if it was her, what did that mean for Winnie?

The rest of the day passed in a blur. I went through the motions of practice, giving instructions and feedback, but my mind was elsewhere. Scribbling in my playbook was pointless. I couldn’t stop thinking about Gemma, about the possibility that she might be the woman I’d been searching for all this time.

That night, as I lay in bed alone, the questions swirled in my mind, refusing to let me rest. If Winnie was my daughter, if Gemma was the woman from that night…what then? What would that change?

Would she tell me the truth if I asked? Would she even want me to know? I was just an anonymous party hookup back then, but what we had now was real. Could I risk it for the possibility of the truth?

I didn’t have the answers yet, but one thing was clear: I had to find them.

For her. For Winnie. For myself.

Chapter 16

Gemma

The small ice cream shop near the arena was one of those places that seemed frozen in time. The walls were painted a cheery pastel yellow, dotted with old-school posters advertising sundaes and milkshakes, and the faint scent of vanilla and freshly made waffle cones hung in the air. It wasn’t busy—mid-afternoon on a weekday wasn’t prime ice cream time—but a couple of teenagers hovered by the counter, giggling over their sundaes.

Casey was already there when I walked in, seated at one of the little booths by the window. He looked slightly out of place in his Fire jacket and baseball cap, his broad frame filling the small space. But even from across the room, he still managed to take my breath away. It was as if seeing him made the world disappear.

When did I become such a sap?

I didn’t really care. I was so happy when it came to Casey that it made most of those judgy inner voices shut up. As it turned out, being deeply in like worked like a mute button for all that noise.

Deeply in like? Really? You can do better than that.

So, maybe it didn’t shut all the judgy voices up, but it helped. And I did like Casey, but I knew it was bigger than that. I wasn’t ready to touch that other l-word just yet. But it was coming.

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