Healing Hearts
Healing Hearts
Syndi Powell
Now that she’s healed… can she heal him? Armed with a clean bill of health, ER doctor April Sprader is ready to check off items on her bucket list. After meeting Zach Harrison, number four–start dating–shoots to the top. But the workaholic sports agent and caregiver has no spare time. Unless April can persuade Zach that this could be a second chance for them both…
Now that she’s healed...can she heal him?
Armed with a clean bill of health, ER doctor April Sprader is ready to check off items on her bucket list. After meeting Zach Harrison, number four—start dating—shoots to the top. But the workaholic sports agent and caregiver has no spare time. Unless April can persuade Zach that this could be a second chance for them both...
SYNDI POWELL started writing stories when she was young and has made it a lifelong pursuit. She’s been reading Mills & Boon romance novels since she was in her teens and is thrilled to be on the Mills & Boon team. She loves to connect with readers on Twitter, @syndipowell (https://twitter.com/syndipowell), or on her Facebook author page, Facebook.com/syndipowellauthor (https://www.facebook.com/syndipowellauthor).
Also By Syndi Powell (#u80d9f3d1-361a-5f14-84f1-dba24c3f0610)
Afraid to Lose Her
The Sweetheart Deal
Two-Part Harmony
Risk of Falling
The Reluctant Bachelor
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Healing Hearts
Syndi Powell
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ISBN: 978-1-474-08090-3
HEALING HEARTS
© 2018 Cynthia Powell
Published in Great Britain 2018
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
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www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
“You look beautiful.” Zach smiled.
“Why are you saying that to me?”
“Because it’s true?”
April looked into his eyes. “Why did you come here tonight?”
Nothing like being direct. Zach took a step closer to her. “The thing is, I’ve tried not to think about you, but it’s impossible. So I am officially giving up. I came here tonight because I wanted to be near you. To spend time with you and see if this is the worst idea I’ve ever had.”
“And what idea would that be?”
“Would you like to go out for dinner sometime?” There. He’d asked her. Maybe the invitation wasn’t as eloquent as he’d hoped it would be, but it was out there now. And it was up to her to accept it. Or reject it, but he wasn’t going to think about that.
“Why?”
Okay, well, that wasn’t the response he’d hoped for. “Why not? Isn’t there something on that second-chance list we could cross off together?”
Dear Reader (#u80d9f3d1-361a-5f14-84f1-dba24c3f0610),
I hope you’ve been enjoying Hope Center Stories as much as I have. Three different women on three different breast cancer journeys, but all of them strong survivors.
It’s funny because though all three women are so different from one other, they each represent part of my own cancer story. In the first book, Sherri expressed my own thoughts and fears at the time I was diagnosed. With April’s story, I was able to explore my own second-chance list of what I wanted to do after I was well again. Some of her items that she wants to check off are similar to those I had, but haven’t completed as of yet. I need more of my inner April to come out and play!
This story is also about those caretakers who give up pieces of their lives to help family members. I was privileged enough to be caretaker to my dad before he passed away in 2008. I remember at times feeling so overwhelmed by his care that I called my mom to tell her I couldn’t do it anymore. I couldn’t watch as he faded away day after day. Yet looking back on it now, I wouldn’t trade that time with him for anything. I grew closer to my dad and cherish those small moments we shared. While Zach might not yet appreciate his own struggles with caring for his mom, I hope to show that caretakers are indeed special and blessed.
Thank you for passing along these stories to family and friends. We are always stronger together!
Syndi
Sometimes family isn’t the one you’re born into, but the one you create.
To my stepdad, Russell D’Hondt, who loves to come up with twists and turns in the plot with me (you can thank him for helping me out of many a writing corner!) and who treats my mother like the queen she is. And to my stepbrother, John D’Hondt, who is showing us all how to take charge of your own life and make a difference instead of excuses.
Keep up the great work!
Contents
Cover (#ud4e7316b-ab03-5dc0-ba1b-c23d1cb63185)
Back Cover Text (#u321f9430-a463-55b7-a1ed-f68cf6b8d8dd)
About the Author (#u63fe3ffa-faba-5890-8179-1ab8bc473e89)
Booklist (#ud387a388-1caf-5c97-be41-bfb231e9cd0c)
Title Page (#u5b07b563-eb65-5d8f-8e13-03dc06b5c417)
Copyright (#u29455588-d0c3-58ab-9854-dad38440f563)
Introduction (#u114f744d-88ad-5513-b1f2-0cd4874c4b49)
Dear Reader (#u2135984b-a5f5-56b6-a93e-fe44c4c3c709)
Dedication (#uc992bc8d-6661-5adf-8aa2-54f43f74d3e9)
CHAPTER ONE (#udf651d01-c3f7-5ae7-8c77-f9fadbed4756)
CHAPTER TWO (#uebc841f2-c076-5562-a8eb-fc2cfbabea28)
CHAPTER THREE (#u00cb308b-8899-5812-9654-bb6b4aa8c458)
CHAPTER FOUR (#u6036030d-3b01-5c3f-861e-bd1ec3cd5db1)
CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE (#u80d9f3d1-361a-5f14-84f1-dba24c3f0610)
APRIL SPRADER WANTED one moment of sanity. Just one minute when she didn’t have to run between examination rooms because she didn’t have enough staff, which she didn’t. Her emergency department was shorthanded. Again. Half of the doctors and nurses out with the flu. Again. And the patients kept coming. She listened to her current patient’s breathing sounds. “Another deep breath, please.”
The older man sucked in air. She could hear the distinctive wheeze of infected bronchial tubes and removed the stethoscope from her ears. “I can run more tests, but it seems you have bronchitis.”
The man had a scrunched expression. “Not pneumonia, then.”
“Like I said, I could run more tests, but you’re wheezing due to inflamed lungs. They don’t have the liquid buildup of pneumonia.” She made a note on his chart and took a prescription pad from the front pocket of her lab coat. “You need to drink plenty of fluids and get some rest.” She wrote two prescriptions and ripped the slips from the pad before handing them to the man. “You can either fill these here at the hospital or take them to your local pharmacy. One’s for an inhaler, the other for a stronger cough medicine. If things don’t improve in a week, see your regular doctor.”
He thanked her and stuffed the prescriptions in the front pocket of his flannel shirt. One down. Only twenty-two more or so to go before she could take fifteen minutes for herself.
She left the curtained area and returned to the pit, where she checked the charts of waiting patients. Her head nurse, Janet, had prioritized them in order of urgency, so she only had to grab the top one and walk away. Heart palpitations in curtain five. Yep, that would be a priority.
She pushed the curtain aside and double-checked the chart. “Antonio Johnson?” She glanced at the African American kid sitting on the hospital bed. He looked no more than eighteen, although his chart gave his age as twenty-two, so why was he having heart issues? The kid offered her a weak smile as she stepped forward. “What brings you to my ER tonight?”
“He complained of chest pain and passed out at practice today.” A good-looking man with artfully messy dark hair in a charcoal-gray business suit and light blue tie, with a cell phone plastered to his ear, moved closer to Johnson. “I need to know. Is his football career over? Is it his heart?”
She raised her eyebrows at this. “And you are?”
“His agent.” He then ignored her and spoke softly into his phone.
April tried not to roll her eyes at him and focused instead on Antonio. “What were you doing before you passed out?”
“We were trying a five-ten-five shuttle run, which I’ve done a million times. And when I hit the forty-yard line, things got fuzzy and the next thing I knew, I’m lying on the field and the coach is yelling at me to get up.”
The only words she had understood were that he’d passed out on a sports field. “A five-ten-five?”
“You know. It’s a drill we run at practices. But this was a tryout.” Antonio gave a one-shoulder shrug. “I’ve never had that happen before.”
“Your...” She glanced briefly at the man hissing into the phone. Really? “Your agent mentioned chest pains?”
Antonio shook his head. “That was before. I felt fine. Well, dizzy but fine. But you know. So is it my heart, Doc?”
She removed her stethoscope from around her neck and used the earpieces before pressing the chest piece to his back. “Take a few deep breaths for me.”
The kid complied, and she could hear normal breathing sounds. She then placed the chest piece over his heart. She could hear the rhythmic beating as well as a distinctive click. She removed the earpieces and placed the stethoscope around her neck once again. “Have you experienced these palpitations and chest pains before?”
“No, he’s in perfect health. This has never happened before. Like we said.”
April was taken aback at the agent and tried to keep her lip from curling. “I was asking Antonio. My patient.” She turned back to the kid. “Has this ever happened before?”
The kid looked at his agent, then shifted back to her. “Maybe a couple times, but then it was okay. And I didn’t pass out or nothing.”
“You never told me about that.”
Antonio shrugged off his agent’s comment. “It didn’t seem like a big deal. I could feel my heart beating out of my chest, but then it would calm down. Besides, I was in the middle of a workout and your heart is supposed to be pumping that hard.” He focused on her. “Right?”
She gave a nod and made some notes on his chart. “I’d like to do some tests to be sure I understand what’s going on with you.”
The agent scoffed. “Tests? He needs to be back on the field before the coach starts wondering if he needs to find another receiver.”
She didn’t second-guess herself, getting into the agent’s personal space and poking him in the chest. “Hey. Antonio needs to be sure that this isn’t something more serious, something that could end his life, much less his career.”
The man clenched his jaw, and she could see a steady heartbeat in his carotid artery. He narrowed his eyes at her. “Can I see you in private for a moment?”
The agent moved past her and she followed him, but she wasn’t going to back down. She didn’t care how handsome he was or how important he thought his client was, Antonio needed these tests to confirm what she suspected. The man studied her name tag. “Dr. Sprader, I’m sure you can understand the pressure that Antonio is under. He’s a rookie who needs to prove himself. Any kind of issue before he signs with the team, and he’s not likely to see a contract.”
“And I’m sure you can understand that my number one concern is the health of your client. That should be yours, as well.” She put her hand on the curtain to push it aside. The man put his hand on hers to still it. She turned toward him. “Don’t touch me.”
He removed his hand from hers. “What if we promise to go to his regular doctor...tomorrow?”
She doubted that they would make it a priority if Antonio had a tryout scheduled at the same time. “What if I order these tests, and you stop interfering with my job?”
“He’s my job, too. My client.”
“And he’s my patient. Now, why don’t you go to the cafeteria and get a coffee while I take care of Antonio?” She glanced down at his buzzing phone. The sound was annoying. “Or better yet, take your phone to the parking lot and look after your business so I can look after mine.”
The agent bristled, but put his phone to his ear and stalked away. April seized a deep cleansing breath to center herself and focus again on Antonio. Now she pushed the curtain aside. “Okay, then. I’m ordering an echocardiogram to get a better picture of what’s happening with your heart.”
Antonio’s face paled. “Doc, be straight. Is it bad? Am I going to die? Is my football career over already?”
“Let’s see the results of the tests first, then I’ll have a cardiologist take a look at you, too.” She put a hand on his knee. “If it’s what I suspect it is, with treatment and observation, you’ll still have a long life.”
He gave a nod, then cocked his head to the side. “And football?”
“You can still have that, too.” She made more notes on his chart. “But let’s wait and find out what the tests say.”
She sent him a reassuring smile and stepped beyond the curtain. As she did so, a man grabbed her and put a knife to her throat. “Where’s the drug closet?”
Great. It was going to be one of those days.
* * *
ZACH HARRISON FINISHED his last phone call and glanced back at the entrance to the emergency room. Coach Petrullo had called to check on Antonio’s condition. “The overzealous doctor is running tests, but Antonio will be on the field good as new tomorrow,” he’d assured the man. He only hoped he hadn’t overstated the truth. The kid had to be okay. He was young and active. His football career was about to begin. Fate wouldn’t be so cruel as to take it away. Right?
Zach slipped his phone into his suit coat pocket and walked through the open automatic doors. He needed Antonio in action, but he needed the kid healthy even more. He regretted how callous he’d probably come across to Dr. Sprader earlier. He’d noticed how she’d barely kept her contempt under wraps, and he wanted to go back in time and change that. He wasn’t that kind of guy. He could be nice. A sweetheart, even. Though he’d been accused of using that to his advantage, rather than being sincere.
Shaking off all thoughts of his ex-wife, he practiced what he was going to say to the cute doctor and headed toward where Antonio waited. He saw the doc talking to another patient, a man who seemed to be standing too close to her. Zach paused and assessed the situation. Not only was the guy standing too close, the knife in his hand meant he was a threat. Zach couldn’t spot the security guard he’d seen earlier in the hallways. He knew what he had to do. He’d had self-defense training for situations like this.
He sauntered up to the curtained area. The patient noted him and waved the knife. “Stop. Or I’ll slice her throat. I swear I will.”
Zach held up his hands. “I’m not going to stop you. I’m only here for my client.” He pointed to Antonio, who watched with wide eyes. He looked as if he were ready to jump off the bed and pummel the guy. Zach waved him off. “Why don’t you tell us what you want?”
The grizzled man wore clothes that smelled as if they hadn’t been washed in weeks. “I want to stop the pain.”
Dr. Sprader struggled in the guy’s arms. “I told you last time that you don’t need the drugs, Harley.”
So the good doctor knew the man. Probably had a history of coming into the ER. Zach saw how Harley’s grip on the knife was loosening the more they talked. His knuckles were no longer white from strain. Instead, he flexed his fingers on the handle. If Zach could keep them talking, maybe he could disarm the guy.
“Harley.” The man turned to look at Zach. “What kind of drugs will help you? Maybe if you tell me, then I can go get them.”
The doctor’s eyes flared with emotion, probably anger and even shock. Harley licked his lips. “Oxy works best. Takes the edge off.”
Antonio shifted in the bed, drawing Harley’s attention to him. And as that happened, Zach rushed forward and did a roundhouse kick to knock the knife out of the guy’s hand and send it skittering across the floor. Dr. Sprader used the man’s shock to grab his arm and twist it behind his back. She pushed him facedown onto the hospital bed. “Go get security,” she told Zach.
He nodded and ran to the front desk. When he returned, he saw that Dr. Sprader had help from a few nurses to keep the man subdued. The security guard came and took the guy away. Zach hurried to Antonio’s side. “Are you okay?”
“Where did you learn a kick like that?”
Zach gave a shrug. “High school. I was a puny kid with a target on my back. Had to learn how to protect myself, so Pops took me to self-defense classes.” He looked over at Dr. Sprader. “How about you? Are you okay?”
She gave a short nod as she reached up to touch the side of her neck. A small trickle of blood had stained the neckline of her pastel blue scrubs. She seemed to be barely containing what he figured was disgust. “Thanks for the assist.”
Obviously, his heroics hadn’t changed her first impression of him. “Any time.” He turned to Antonio. “Let’s start those tests and we’ll find out what’s going on with you, so that we can get out of here.”
* * *
PAGE KOSINSKI, APRIL’S best friend, found her sitting on the floor of the women’s restroom. April had hoped that she would have a few more moments of refuge before resuming her duties. Just another five minutes alone would have been great. Instead, she looked at Page, who had squatted down beside her and was checking the cut on her neck from Harley. “I told you that you needed to report him the last time he came here looking for drugs.”
April slapped her friend’s hand away. “It’s no big deal. I’m fine. Harley got arrested and can now get the help he needs.”
“But what if that guy hadn’t been around to save your butt? What if Harley had really hurt you this time?” Page took a seat on the floor next to her. “You give people too many chances. When are you going to start putting yourself first?”
“Don’t you think I’ve been sitting here asking myself the same thing?” She paused and asked Page, “Did you get a glance at my hero?”
Page waggled her eyebrows and waved her hand in front of her face. “Hot.”
“He’s also arrogant and too sure of himself.” April winced as she got to her feet and stretched. “What am I doing here, anyway?”
“Working your shift like you always do.”
April nodded. “Exactly. I told myself that when I defeated cancer, I would change. That I would go out there and do everything I’ve always wanted to.” She held her hands out to her sides. “And what have I done? I’m back to working extra shifts and sleeping in the on-call room instead of going home. And why? Because it’s more convenient to just stay here. I can’t keep doing this.”
“I’ve been telling you that for months.” Page rose to her feet and washed her hands in the sink. She tugged a few paper towels from the dispenser and dried her fingers. She crushed the towels into a ball and tossed them in the trash can. “So what are you going to do?”
April peered into the mirror and stared at her reflection. She ran a hand through her curly hair. Before breast cancer had taken away her hair, it had been thin, straight and whitish blond. Now that it had grown back, it was honey-colored, coarse and curly. Sometimes she looked at herself and wondered where the woman she’d once been had gone, not just physically, but emotionally, as well. She had been bold. Sassy. And unflappable. Now she worried about everything. Self-doubt tied her hands and kept her stationary, rather than taking action and doing something. She gave herself a nod. “It’s time.”
Page raised her eyebrows at this. “Time for what?”
April turned and looked her squarely in the eye. “It’s time to start living.”
She pushed herself away from the sink and left the bathroom. Page dogged her at her heels. “You’re talking about that second-chance list in your journal?”
“I’ve got my new body, so why not a new perspective?” She checked her cell phone and saw that she had four missed calls, two of them from her supervisor. She punched the number and glanced at Page. “Dinner later? Maybe call Sherri and see if she can leave Agent Hottie for the night and join us.”
Page patted her shoulder and went briskly along the hallway to return to her own job. April’s supervisor answered on the second ring. “Darryl, I’m fine. Just needed a few minutes.”
“Well, get your butt back on the floor. We’re swamped.”
She bit her lip and took a deep breath. “About that. It’s time we talked about the vacation time coming to me.”
* * *
ZACH FOLLOWED THE aide who pushed Antonio in the wheelchair from the cardiology department back to the emergency room. The aide left them in a different curtained area from before, and Zach took a seat in a metal folding chair next to the bed where Antonio was now. Checking his phone, Zach saw several texts, many of them from clients and one from his mom’s day nurse. She was asking him if he would be home at a reasonable hour, or should she arrange for an evening nurse to arrive before her shift was over. His fingers flew as he told her he’d call her once they left the hospital.
The curtain was drawn aside, and Dr. Sprader entered the cozy alcove. She looked different from before, though he couldn’t put his finger on what it was. She wore the same pastel blue scrubs with the bloodstain on the collar. Her messy curls hadn’t changed, and her face remained void of cosmetics. Not that she needed them. Her skin seemed to glow without any enhancement, and her blue eyes snapped with whatever thoughts danced in her head. She barely acknowledged him, before focusing on Antonio. “The results have come in, and I’ve consulted with Dr. Hall, a cardiologist on staff.” She took a seat on the edge of the bed. “You have mitral valve prolapse.”
Antonio clutched at his chest. Zach reached over and patted the boy’s hand. “Doc, am I dying?”
She shook her head. “Your heart valve is leaky, which causes a murmur. Things like stress or overexertion will aggravate the situation, giving you palpitations and chest pain.” She passed several business cards to Antonio. “Here are a few cardiologists in the area. Choose one to follow up with. You’re going to want a good one on your team, so I’d recommend Dr. Hall, but feel free to ask around for recommendations.” She shifted her attention to him, and Zach tried not to stare. “Questions?”
Was she single? He doubted it. Women like her with beauty and smarts tended to be unavailable. He cleared his throat. “So he can keep playing, then?”
“With monitoring, medication and some lifestyle changes, there’s no reason he can’t live with this until the off-season. But then I’d recommend surgery at that point.”
Antonio let out a loud “Yes!” He jumped off the bed and pulled her into a hug that nearly crushed her. “Thanks, Doc.”
Then he and Antonio knocked knuckles in an elaborate handshake that Antonio made him learn the moment after the kid signed the contract to work with him. “We really dodged a bullet on this one, Zach.”
Antonio turned back to the doctor. “So I can go?” he asked. When she nodded, he walked out with hands raised high in triumph.
Dr. Sprader handed him some business cards. “He needs to follow up with a cardiologist, and I get the impression you’re going to have to be the one to convince him. This isn’t a dire condition, but he needs regular checkups so that things like collapsing on the field won’t happen again.”
“Understood.” Zach shrugged back into his suit coat and put the cards in his inside pocket.
As he walked by her, she reached out and touched his coat sleeve. “About what happened with Harley earlier.”
He turned to face her. He’d been waiting for this. “There’s no need to thank me.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I was going to tell you that it wasn’t necessary. That I had things under control before you jumped in.”
He pointed to her neck where the knife had cut her. “I can see that.”
“Harley is harmless. He wouldn’t have actually cut my throat.” She glared at him. “I don’t need a hero.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure about that, Dr. Sprader?”
“Perfectly.” She continued to stare at him and then exhaled. “You know my name, but I don’t know yours.”
He extended his hand. “Zach Harrison.”
She put her hand in his and gave it a quick shake. “Make sure Antonio sees one of the cardiologists, Mr. Harrison. Otherwise, his career won’t save him from another episode.”
Zach’s phone started buzzing. He gave a brisk nod, then left her, his phone already at his ear. She may be interesting, but he had other priorities right now.
* * *
APRIL PULLED UP in front of the house that belonged to her friends Sherri and Dez Jackson. While she would have liked an evening out, Sherri had been under the weather. April retracted the phrase. What Sherri felt...it was as if her body had been scorched to get the cancer out. April remembered the sensation and gave a shiver that had nothing to do with the snowflakes drifting down from the sky. Her days battling cancer were long over, thank goodness. Now she had to put her life back together, hopefully better than it was before. She needed balance between work and personal life. Correction. She needed to get a personal life.
She grabbed her purse and journal from the front seat and exited the car. Page pulled in behind her, so she waited for her to park. They walked up to the front door, unsure of how they’d find Sherri. April knocked and soon Agent Hottie answered the door. “She’s in the family room,” Dez told them after the perfunctory hugs and kisses. “And I don’t need to tell you two to take it easy on her. Don’t wear her out.”
“We know how she’s feeling better than you do.” Page shoved a pizza box into his hands. “For you and Marcus to share. Us girls have our own.”
They walked through the living room and kitchen and down one step where they found Sherri on the sofa with her legs up on the coffee table, wrapped in a fleece blanket. She looked up at them and gave a watery smile. “Thanks for bringing the girls’ night to me.”
She had dark shadows under her eyes and looked as if she could fall asleep at any moment. April put a hand on her shoulder. “If you’re not up for company...”
“Don’t you dare leave me.” She pointed to two recliners adjacent to the sofa. “Now, sit and tell me something good.”
“April got a knife pulled on her in the ER today,” Page said, opening their box of pizza.
Sherri gasped. “And that was good?”
“Because of it, she met a hot guy who saved her by kicking the knife out of the junkie’s hand.” Page offered a slice of pizza to Sherri, who waved it away. She then handed the slice to April.
Sherri gave a soft smile. “And who was this hot guy?”
“An annoying jerk who wanted me to tell him his client was fine without running any tests.” April took a bite of her pizza and chewed, thinking about Zach Harrison. “If he hadn’t been so irritating, I might have found him attractive.” Page and Sherri exchanged glances. April pointed between them. “What does that look mean?”
Page cocked her head to the side. “It means he’s your soul mate, obviously.”
What? That was the most ludicrous idea she’d ever heard. She was about to tell them so when they burst out laughing.
Still chuckling, Sherri said, “She’s joking. It means we’re happy that you finally have started to notice men.”
“I notice them.” April paused when she saw Page roll her eyes. “I just choose not to do anything about it.”
“And when is that going to change? I thought getting back in the dating scene was on your list.” Page gestured at the journal that April had placed next to her chair. “Isn’t that what you were talking about earlier? That it’s time to begin living your life again? To start dating and falling in love.”
“Yes, it’s time.” She opened the journal and found the page where she had written a second-chance list of things to do when she was healthy again. She’d pored over the list as she’d sat in the chair during chemotherapy. Written and rewritten it until she’d found the top twenty things she most wanted to do. Number four was to start dating. “So how do I do it?”
Page gestured at Sherri, who shook her head. “Don’t look at me. Dez and I didn’t really date before we got married. I mean, we’d been friends for years, but we didn’t date.”
“And I haven’t exactly been single for that long.” Page rubbed her left ring finger. The wedding band was removed a few weeks ago when the divorce became final. “There are plenty of online sites to help you find dates.”
April made a face. “I’m not sure about that. Don’t you two know anyone you can set me up with?”
Sherri snapped her fingers. “What about my cousin Mateo? He’s single, and I guess he’s good-looking.”
She remembered meeting him last summer at a party celebrating Sherri’s last chemo appointment. “He’s not my type.”
Page held up one hand like a stop sign. “Hot and available is not your type?”
Sherri turned to Page. “You think Mateo is hot?”
“So does every other woman in Detroit. Come on. The man is seriously good-looking.” Page fanned herself. “And you want to pass that up, April?”
April gave a shrug. “All right. If he agrees, I guess I could go out with him.”
Dez joined them and handed Sherri a cup of steaming tea that brought the scent of ginger with it. “You ladies all right out here?”
Sherri kissed his hand before taking the mug. “Dez, do you know any available guys for April?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. What’s your type, April?”
“It’s been so long, single is her type.” Page snapped her fingers. “There’s that one doctor who asked you out a while ago, but you took no notice of him.”
“Because I’d just been diagnosed with cancer. I wasn’t worrying about dating at the time.” She remembered how he’d stammered out an invitation to a concert. She could only think that she might be dying, and going to see a symphony was the least important thing she could do at the time. Figuring out how to survive had been her focus.
“Well, things have changed. What was his name again?”
“Dr. Sperry, and he got married this past summer.” He’d even invited her to the wedding along with half of her staff. She’d declined but sent a gift.
“Oh.”
“Besides, I don’t want to date another doctor. My schedule is hectic as it is.”
Sherri put down her phone, then smiled. “I gave Mateo your number, so don’t be surprised if you hear from him.”
Her stomach clenched, and she put her half-eaten slice of pizza back on the paper plate. “You really shouldn’t have done that.”
“Well, are you serious about doing the things on your list or are you only interested in talking about doing those things?” Page leaned forward and touched her knee. “You’ve been given a second chance at life, April. Are you going to sit and let it pass you by or are you going to reach out and grab the opportunity?”
She’d already let too many things go, rather than pursue them. Men she might have dated and fallen in love with. Jobs that she might have excelled at. Opportunities that never came around again. Enough was enough—she needed to do this. Standing, she declared, “I’m going for it.”
CHAPTER TWO (#u80d9f3d1-361a-5f14-84f1-dba24c3f0610)
APRIL STUDIED HERSELF in the full-length mirror and put a hand to her chest. After her reconstruction surgery, the doctor had put an implant in her unaffected right breast in order to make both match in size. She now had more cleavage than she’d had before her cancer diagnosis. The coral dress she’d chosen to wear had a scoop neckline that dipped down more than she would have liked. Afraid her scars would show, she found a floral scarf and looped that around her neck and tucked it into the collar to give her some coverage.
The doorbell rang, and she took one last glance at herself in the bedroom mirror. She’d changed because of cancer, but then she’d had to. Tonight was for taking back her life. And who knew what the future held.
She opened the front door and whistled at Mateo, who stood on the porch in an emerald green silk shirt and black pants. He looked like he was ready to dance. He gave a lopsided grin. “You look pretty good yourself.”
She adjusted the scarf. “Did you want to come in for a moment?”
He gave a nod before ducking inside. She took a deep breath before shutting the door and turning to face him. No dating for over two and a half years—long before cancer had dominated her thoughts and days—she put her nervousness down to that. It’s not like this was a blind date with a stranger. She knew she could trust Sherri’s cousin. Knew she could relax and have fun.
He glanced around the room, then his chocolate-brown eyes were back to her. “This is a nice place. Cozy.”
“It is small, but it’s close to the hospital. Since I spend most of my life there, it made sense to move into this neighborhood. I could even walk there if I had to. But late at night in this neighborhood, it’s not the best idea.” She bit her lip to keep from babbling.
Mateo nodded and let out a breath. “Sherri told me that she met you at the ER.”
“She told me that you’re a great lawyer.”
He cast his eyes down and gave a shrug. “I don’t know about great.” He raised his head to look at her. “Are you as nervous as I am?”
April laughed and put a hand to her belly. “Does it show?”
He took a step toward her. “Let’s just agree that tonight is about becoming friends and going out to have a good time.”
He was already playing the friend card? But she agreed. Not that she didn’t appreciate his trying to defuse the tension. “Do you want to head out?”
He helped her shrug into her coat, then he opened the door, letting her leave the house first. Just like a gentleman. He waited on the second step of the porch while she locked the door and put the keys into her rose-gold clutch. He even held her elbow as they walked down the sidewalk to his car. He opened the passenger door for her and waited until she had folded her legs inside and secured her seat belt before he shut the door and ran around to the driver’s side. He started the car, and silence fell between them as they drove to the club. After a few minutes, Mateo spoke. “My cousin mentioned you wanted to try salsa dancing. Why salsa?”
It was one of the things on her list, something she’d added after watching a reality show about dancing. “Because salsa dancers look like they’re enjoying the life they’ve been given. Sherri told me that you were an expert.”
He laughed at this. “If by expert she means that I’ve been dancing since I was eight, then yes, I guess I am.”
“Any tips?”
“Let the music guide you and follow my lead.”
It sounded easy enough. When they arrived at the club, Mateo took her elbow as they stepped inside and searched for a table. The beat of the music made April’s feet twitch, wanting to go out on the dance floor before she had learned any of the moves. She reminded herself that learning to salsa dance would take more than a good song playing on the sound system. She took off her jacket and handed it to Mateo, who left to check their coats and order some drinks.
Shortly after, Mateo approached their table with two drinks in his hands, a beer for him and a margarita for her. He handed her the bright pink drink, then glanced at the empty dance floor before sitting down. “When do they start the dancing?”
She took a sip and shrugged. “The website said nine.” She glanced at her watch. It was about a quarter past. “Maybe they’re running late?”
“Or maybe they’re waiting for someone to get things started.” He smiled at her. “Want to give it a try?” She took a gulp of her raspberry margarita and jumped up. Mateo took her hand as they walked to the dance floor.
“Start on your left foot,” he said and slipped his left hand in hers and his right on her back. He took a step forward as he nudged her backward. She took a step back with her left foot, then a step with her right and brought her left in line. Then he drew her forward a step. Her ankle wobbled on the heel of her shoe, and he gripped her tighter to keep her steady, and they stopped in place. “That’s the basic step. You’ll do fine.”
April gave a nod and stared at her feet. She remembered taking ballet when she was six, but had only lasted a year before she found that she preferred different pursuits like performing experiments in the science lab or reading about the life cycle of the earthworm. She’d left sports and physical activities to her brother, Tony, until now. Feel the beat, she chanted to herself. Follow Mateo’s lead. Stop thinking and just feel.
Mateo’s gaze searched her eyes. “Ready to start again?”
“You bet.” He nudged her backward again. This time, she stayed steady on her feet, switched off her brain for a few seconds while she followed his moves. Mateo grinned. “Now, I’m going to spin you. Ready?”
He held their hands up high, and she spun around under them. When she turned back to face him, she laughed. “I’m dancing.”
He returned her smile. “Yes, you are.” He tightened his grip on her hand. “Okay, now let’s try a different step.”
They started as they had before. Back, forward, then he put his arm around her shoulders and they danced side by side rather than facing each other. He spun her into their original position and started the sequence again. April whipped her head back on one of the turns and lost her footing again. Mateo caught her before she could hit the floor. “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. You’re doing really well for your first time salsa dancing.”
The song ended, and they headed to their table. April sipped her margarita and watched as other dancers filled the dance floor. The way they moved effortlessly and in sync amazed her. Even if she took dance lessons for six months, she doubted she could move as easily as the women dancing. She might dance better than tonight, but she’d still struggle with turning off her brain and letting her body take over.
She found Mateo watching her. “You look lost in thought,” he said.
Story of her life. “Sherri said you’re helping her and Dez finalize Marcus’s adoption.” The couple had planned on being his foster parents, but had recently taken steps to legally make him a part of their new family. “She’s so happy.”
“She deserves to be after all that she’s going through.” He watched her over the top of his beer glass. “And how are you feeling?”
Sherri had told him about her cancer? “Real good.” She sipped her drink, then motioned with her head to the dance floor. “Want to give it another try?”
“Okay, okay.” He drained his beer, put his arm around her waist and led her to the dance floor.
After three songs, April’s heart pounded, and a fine sweat had formed along her hairline. She let go of Mateo’s hand and fanned herself as the song changed to something slower. He raised an eyebrow at her. While she longed to sit, her body had something different in mind and she took his outstretched hand in hers.
They danced, their bodies close. Touching, then he nudged her away and spun her around and brought her close to him again. It felt like a tug-of-war between the two of them, but one that Mateo controlled the entire song. The intimacy of the dance should have made her feel a stirring of emotion for the man holding her close, but she felt nothing. Friendship sure, but not that pull of attraction. At the end of the song, she returned to the table. Mateo left her to get glasses of water. She ran her hands through her curls in an attempt to cool herself. A guy in a suit stopped beside her. “Dr. Sprader, you looked good out there.”
She looked up and recognized that sports agent. “Mr. Harrison. I’m surprised to see you here.”
* * *
ZACH HAD BEEN surprised to see April on the dance floor, and with a boyfriend, no less. He tried to ignore the hollow feeling in his chest at that thought and pointed at a corner where a hot new talent on the baseball circuit sat with his girlfriend. “I brought a potential client tonight.”
She glanced in the direction he’d indicated and frowned. “You dumped Antonio already?”
“I have more than one client. Just like you see more than one patient.” He tried not to let her comment hit him hard, but it was too late. He got tired of being accused of having divided loyalties when he had to work for more than one client at a time. He needed to provide for his family, after all. And that didn’t come cheap. He looked toward the bar where her date had disappeared. “You and your boyfriend dance really well together.”
“He’s not my boyfriend.” She fidgeted with her purse, snapping it open and shut. “Not that it’s any of your business, but it’s our first date.”
“Really? Based on how you were dancing, I’d figured you knew each other pretty well.” He’d been impressed by how at ease she seemed after a few songs. They’d moved so naturally together that he assumed they were a couple.
A fast-tempo song started, and she stared out at the dance floor with a look on her face that made him wish he knew how to salsa. He wondered what it would be like to hold her in his arms and turn her around the room. Not that he had time for such frivolities as dancing. He needed to focus on his business.
Someone appeared next to him, and he turned to find her date standing there with two glasses of ice water. He handed her one, put the other on the table and offered his hand to Zach. “Thanks for keeping her company. You a friend of April’s?”
She scoffed at this, and he shook his head. “No. She took care of one of my clients.” He accepted the date’s hand. “You’re a great dancer.”
The guy gave a cockeyed grin. “My mother taught me when I was young.”
“And he’s a wonderful teacher, too.” April put a hand on the date’s arm and peered at Zach. “You don’t want to leave your client alone too long.”
Dismissed so quickly. Zach smiled. “You’re right. I’m here for work, not for pleasure.” He glanced at her again. “Good to see you, Dr. Sprader.”
“Thank you, Mr. Harrison.” She took a sip of her water. “Want to go back out there for the next dance?”
The date looked between them and gave a slow nod. “Sure. Whatever you want.”
Zach shook the date’s hand again and walked to the corner table. He took a seat next to his client, Chris Ramos. “Did you two discuss my proposal?”
Ramos put an arm across his girlfriend’s shoulders. “Mr. Harrison, you’ve given us a lot to think about, but I’d like to get to know you a little more before I sign my life over to you.”
“I can guarantee you that my terms are more than fair.”
Ramos held up a hand. “Why don’t we enjoy the music and dancing? There will be time for negotiating later.”
Problem was Zach didn’t know how to enjoy much beyond working and closing the deal. Just ask his ex-wife. “Of course.”
The song changed and Ramos leaned over to his girlfriend to whisper in her ear. She nodded, and they left the table to join the dancers on the floor. Zach searched the crowd and found Dr. Sprader with her date. She looked fantastic in that soft orange dress and her dark blond hair wildly curling around her face. Her expression seemed to be lit up with joy as she turned in the guy’s arms and swayed to the beat of the music.
He wondered what it would take to find a woman like her. And if he did find someone, if she would be interested in him.
He grimaced. He’d proved that he wasn’t made for relationships. He’d failed miserably as a husband. He could provide financially, but not when it came to love and affection. He’d forgotten birthdays and special events. He missed anniversaries and holidays. Unless, of course, it was for a client. Those he remembered.
Dr. Sprader glanced in his direction and he looked away, self-conscious to be caught watching her on the dance floor. A waitress stopped by the table, and he welcomed the distraction to order another round of drinks. Ramos and his girlfriend returned to the table after a few songs. Chris gulped his beer and patted Zach on the back. “Man, this place is sick. How did you find out about it?”
“Came as a recommendation from a friend.” Okay, so it was another client, but he didn’t have many friends. He noticed that Dr. Sprader seemed to be leaving, her jacket over one arm and the other around her date.
Ramos followed his gaze and gave a small smile. “She a friend of yours?”
“No. We just met.”
“For someone you don’t know, you seem to watch her quite a bit.” Ramos looked over at his girlfriend, who smirked and nodded. “She someone you want to get to know better?”
Zach turned his attention back to Ramos. The last thing he needed was to lose a client because his focus was elsewhere. “My life doesn’t have much room for making new friends right now. I’m dedicated to my clients and their needs. I work tirelessly to get the best contracts and to make sure their lives are exactly what they want.”
Ramos nudged him. “I get it. You’d work just as hard for me if I sign with you.”
“So what is it that’s keeping you from doing that?” Zach asked. He’d been wining and dining this guy for three months without a commitment. “What is it that you need? Tell me and I’ll make it happen to get you on my roster.”
Ramos and his girlfriend exchanged glances. He leaned in close to Zach. “We need to get married. And quick. You make that happen, and I’ll be happy to join you.”
Zach wanted to groan. Couldn’t he have asked for something easy like playing for the number one team in the league at a cool six million a season? But he smiled and nodded. “Then you’d better be ready to walk down that aisle.”
* * *
MATEO PARKED HIS car in front of her house and cut the engine. She peered through the window to concentrate on the porch light. Was Mateo expecting to come in? Would he kiss her or push for more? And did she want him to?
She licked her lips and shifted to face him. He kept his gaze straight ahead, focused on something in the dark. “Thanks for a fun evening, Mateo. I really enjoyed it.”
He turned and smiled at her. “I did, too. More than I expected to.” He winced. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. You’re nice, I mean, and very attractive. But...”
“But.” She returned his smile. “It’s okay. I liked our time together, but I don’t feel that spark for you either. We’d be better off as friends.”
“Right. Friends.” Mateo let out a sigh. “I did notice some sparks between you and that guy who stopped at our table.”
“Mr. Harrison? No, you’re wrong. I’ve only seen him twice, and there’s nothing there. Nothing. Not a thought or idea. Not a thing.”
He stared at her with a faint smile on his face. “Are you sure about that? You seem a little too adamant.”
“I protest too much, in other words?” She gave a shrug. “There’s something about him that really bugs me. I can’t describe it.”
She could tell Mateo wasn’t convinced. Not that it should matter if he was. Mr. Harrison wasn’t her type. She didn’t want to get involved with a workaholic who spent his life on his cell phone, rather than paying attention to the world around him. She knew too well what that was like. And she didn’t intend to go down that path again.
She gripped the door handle. “Thank you again for a lovely evening.”
“My pleasure.”
He started to open his door, but she put out a hand to stop him. “You don’t need to walk me to the door. I’ll be fine.”
“I may not be interested in you romantically, but I haven’t forgotten my manners.”
She got out of the car and waited for him to join her on the sidewalk. At the house, Mateo stood on the bottom step as she unlocked the front door. When it opened, she turned and looked down at him. “Maybe I’ll see you around.”
“Good luck on your second-chance list.”
“Sherri told you?”
He nodded. “I think it’s great that you’re trying to get back into life after your brush with cancer.”
“It was more than a brush.”
He frowned. “You know my mother died from breast cancer? It was horrible to watch the life drain away from her daily.” His expression softened. “So the fact that you’re grabbing life with both hands is something to be proud of. Best of luck with the rest of your list.”
She stepped inside her house and watched him as he turned on his heel, got back into his car and left. She shut the door and locked it before placing her clutch on the table along with her keys. Leaning on the door for a moment, she retrieved her cell phone from the purse and texted Page. Salsa dancing fun. No sparks with Mateo.
A few seconds later, her cell phone rang. “What do you mean there were no sparks? The man is soooo hot, so smart—”
“We had a good time, but there was no chemistry between us.” April plopped onto the sofa and kept the phone wedged between her ear and shoulder as she took off one shoe, then the other. “Besides, the cancer thing puts him off a little.”
Silence on the other end. Then Page cleared her throat. “Did he actually say that?”
“No, he mentioned his mom died from it and how hard that was to watch.” She massaged one foot and eased into the sofa. “It’s fine. We’ll just be friends. No big deal.”
“So what’s next on your list?”
She plucked her journal from the coffee table and opened it. “I saw an ad in the staff lounge about Italian cooking classes being offered nearby. You know I’ve always wanted to learn to cook, so why not pasta?”
“I don’t think even you could burn water.”
“Want to take the class with me?”
More silence, then a huff of resignation. “Fine. Let me know when and where.”
* * *
ZACH BAGGED MRS. ZERELLI’S groceries as his grandmother rang up the purchases. “You’ve grown into a fine young man, Zachary.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Zerelli.” He tucked one paper bag under his arm and hoisted the second. “Why don’t I walk these out to the car for you?”
She patted his cheeks as his grandmother beamed at him. “Such a good boy.”
He escorted Mrs. Zerelli to her car and waited for her to unlock the trunk before placing her bags of groceries inside and slamming it shut. He waved away the dollar she tried to press into his hand. “It’s all part of the Rossi service, Mrs. Zerelli.”
Again, the woman patted his cheeks. “Francisco and Angelina are lucky to have you.”
He swallowed the guilt that gnawed at him since he hadn’t been with his grandparents much the last few weeks. But he smiled and opened the car door for Mrs. Zerelli, then closed it once she was inside. He waved as she backed out of the parking spot and left the lot.
Behind the register, Nonna was ringing the next customer’s purchases. For a snowy Saturday in late February, his grandparents’ market seemed to be bustling with business. Zach had planned on stopping in to get a recommendation for a caterer for the Ramos wedding, but seeing the lines and Nonna’s stooped figure behind the register changed it. When he’d been a kid, he’d helped out plenty of afternoons and weekends.
He returned to Nonna’s side and started to bag the groceries. She turned to him. “I’m surprised to see you. I thought you were at your office.”
“It’s Saturday.”
Nonna gave him a look, and he flushed. Okay, so he’d been working a lot lately, but his mother depended on him. “Actually, I was hoping to get some ideas from you for a client of mine. Well, a potential client.”
“I don’t know anything about sports. You should talk to Pops about that. He’s looking after the meat counter today.” She told the customer the total cost of her purchases as he finished putting the items in the bags. “Have a great day, and we’ll see you on your next visit.”
The customer left, and Nonna started to ring up the next person’s groceries. Zach leaned in to whisper in her ear. “This isn’t about sports. It’s about throwing a wedding.”
Nonna paused from her work and stared at him. “I didn’t even know you were dating.”
He jerked up his hands like a criminal caught red-handed. “I’m not. Like I said, it’s for a client. I need to throw him a quick wedding, and I know nothing about how to do it. The ceremony, the reception, caterers, music, Marissa took care of all of that before.”
Nonna called over to one of her staff and had him take over the register. She put her arm through Zach’s and pulled him into the office. She took a seat behind the desk, opened one of the drawers and brought out a large white binder. “These are all my neighborhood contacts. Flowers. Food. Music. A hall. Whatever you need.”
Zach accepted the book and kissed her cheek. “You’re the best.”
She laughed and stood. “Now, out of my way. We’re busy.”
He glanced around the market. “I could give you a hand for a little bit.”
“Trying to worm your way into a dinner invitation?”
He gave a shrug. “I haven’t had your cooking in a long time. I think I’m overdue.”
She paused. “And your mother?”
He didn’t know what shape she’d be in, but he could check on her and bring her with him if it was a good day. “We’ll see.”
“She’s my daughter, and I haven’t seen her in weeks.”
Zach understood that, but his first concern was his mother’s health. “Dinner at seven?”
This time, she kissed his cheek loudly. “You are a good boy.”
He didn’t know about that, but he tried. As he was leaving, he almost ran down a woman in a pastel pink jacket with matching hat and scarf. She tried to peer around him into the office. “Sorry, miss. Do you need something?”
She took off her hat, and he noticed that it was Dr. Sprader. Her jaw dropped at his presence, then she pursed her lips. “I was looking for Mrs. Rossi. I wanted to sign up for her cooking classes.”
“It’s you.” He shook his head, knowing that didn’t come out right. “My grandmother’s right here.” He turned to Nonna. “You still teach those?”
She shrugged and motioned for the doctor to come into the office. “I like to pass along my knowledge, so why not? Our next class is next Tuesday. Zach, it wouldn’t hurt you to brush up on your cooking skills.”
Dr. Sprader seemed a bit stunned. “Your grandmother?”
Nonna looked between him and the doctor. “You two know each other?”
“We keep bumping into each other.” The doc bristled at that and turned her back to him. “I was hoping to sign up my friend and me. But I have to admit, we’re both novices at cooking.”
“I teach all skill levels. And if you’re a beginner, all the better. You won’t come into my class with awful habits. I can mold you.” Nonna brought out a calendar. “And your names?”
“April Sprader and Page Kosinski.”
Zach looked at her. She looked like an April. A woman with a spring attitude. Shaking off the dull grays of winter and embracing a rebirth. He gave himself a mental slap in the head. Where was he coming up with this stuff? “April.” She faced him, and he realized he’d said her name out loud. “First dancing, now cooking. What are you trying to do? Mark off items on your bucket list?”
“As a matter of fact, yes, I am.” She got out her wallet and handed Nonna a few twenties. “I look forward to our first class.” She ignored him as she passed by him.
Nonna slid the money in an envelope and wrote the names on the front of it before securing it in one of the desk drawers. “You sure you don’t want to come to one of my classes?”
“I don’t have time to cook, Nonna.”
“I figured you might want to join so it would give you an excuse to be around that woman.”
He pointed in the direction April had left. “Dr. Sprader? I don’t think so.”
Nonna eyed him, but he didn’t fidget or look away. “Something wrong with her?”
“Where do you want me to start?” He chuckled. “First off, she doesn’t like me. Not that I’m all that fond of her.”
“She seemed perfectly sweet to me.”
He gave a shrug and clutched the book firmly. “Maybe, but I’ve got more important things to pursue. Thanks again for your contacts, Nonna.”
“Class is Tuesday night at eight in case you change your mind.”
But he wouldn’t. He had a wedding to plan, a mother to care for, and clients who depended on him for their careers. The last thing he needed was a distraction of the female variety.
CHAPTER THREE (#u80d9f3d1-361a-5f14-84f1-dba24c3f0610)
ZACH STARED OUT the window of his office, not paying attention to his cell phone. It buzzed with multiple text messages. He’d spent most of his weekend nailing down details for the Ramos wedding. He’d already downloaded the application for a marriage license and found a priest who would perform the ceremony at the banquet hall where Nonna knew the chef and had given him a discount since the happy couple would be married on a Sunday night. There were other details to take care of, but he’d made a sizable dent.
He pushed his wandering thoughts aside and picked up the phone. The first message was from Johnson, asking if he had heard anything yet about the offer from the Lions. Ramos wanted to know if they could fly out his parents from Puerto Rico in time for the wedding. And Coach Petrullo needed an update on Johnson’s health. He answered them all. He’d make it work. Because that’s what he did: took on the impossible and it happened.
His phone buzzed with a new text message. Bad day. Can you come home early?
He checked the time. Not even noon, and the day nurse wanted him to leave already? He replied that he’d stop by at lunchtime. He could kill two birds with that stone: get something to eat and check up on his mom. Then he’d drive out to the practice fields and talk to both Johnson and the coach. Life was all about multitasking.
He glanced out the window again, the gray February skies muddying his mood, turning it cold and dark. Images of Dr. Sprader crossed his mind, bringing a ray of sunshine to dissipate his gloomy state. Sure, she had appeared as if she were angry at him, but when he watched her with her patients, she had radiated something akin to kindness and compassion. A sort of contentment or...peace.
He straightened his tie and stood up. He didn’t have time to think about what he didn’t have. Better to focus on what he did.
He grabbed his wool trench coat from the hook behind his office door and stopped by his assistant’s desk. “I’ll be taking an early lunch today and stopping by practice to check on Antonio. Any messages before I leave?”
Dalvin huffed. “I keep this place a well-oiled machine. Nothing happens without you knowing.”
Zach clapped Dalvin on the shoulder. “You’ve got my number in case anything does come up.”
Dalvin pointed at his computer screen. “What do you think of these as wedding favors?”
Zach bent forward, scrunched his face. “We have to have favors, too?”
Dalvin shrugged. “I read about them on Pinterest.” His assistant pulled several sheets and fanned through them. “These are all the wedding details that still need planning.”
“That’s why I have you.” He sighed at the papers. “We’ll review them when I return.” He glanced at his watch. “Hopefully before four.”
“You got it, boss.”
Zach took the elevator to the parking garage below the building and walked to his sleek, black luxury SUV. Being an agent meant keeping up appearances, so he spent more than he should to project a successful image. He hit the key fob and unlocked the door before sliding into the leather seat and starting the powerful engine.
The drive from his office to his mother’s house took about a half hour on a good day, but the recent snow had left the roads slushy, slowing drivers. He arrived at the house he’d grown up in and parked behind the day nurse’s car. He took a deep breath before trudging up the snow-covered driveway to the back door. He unlocked it and jogged up a few steps into the kitchen. He turned right and found Dolores sitting at the dining room table, her head in her hands. She looked up at him when he called her name.
“Thank goodness you’re here. She’s been asking for you.”
He raised an eyebrow at this and took his coat off, hanging it on the back of one of the four chairs. “She remembers me today? That’s new.”
“Well, she’s been calling for your father, but she means you.” Dolores stood and pulled the edges of her pink cardigan closer together. “When I tried to explain that you’re at work, she threw her cereal bowl at me.”
He noted the dried milk spots on the cardigan. “You’re a saint for putting up with all of this.”
“And here I was thinking the same thing about you.”
A shriek from the back bedroom caught his attention. He walked down the short hallway to his mother’s room and opened the door. “Mother, I’m here.”
Her blank eyes lacked focus as he stood in the doorway watching her. “I knew you’d come home,” she said.
He stepped over clothes she’d probably thrown in a fit of temper and took a seat in the recliner next to her bed. “I always come home.”
“Because you’re a good man, Robert.” She reached out and touched his cheek.
“I’m Zach. Your son.” The doctor had said it was good to remind her of the reality despite her stubborn hold on the past. “Dad died when I was ten.”
She blinked. “Zach.” Her eyes searched his. “Zach should be home from school soon. Such a well-behaved boy. Smart. Just like his father.”
She put a hand on his, and he patted it before rising from the chair. “I’m just going to grab some lunch and then I have to go back to work, okay? But you be good for Dolores. She takes excellent care of you.”
“I want you to stay.” His mother pouted like a three-year-old who couldn’t get her own way. “You promised you’d take me for a picnic.”
“It’s the end of February, Mom. We have to wait for the warmer weather.” He noted the time and got a bottle of pills from the top of the dresser. Shaking out two pills into his hand, he said, “It’s time for your medicine. This will help you feel better.”
She took the pills like an obedient child, then fixed her gaze on the window. When she faced him again, he could tell he’d lost her once more. Her eyes looked at him, blank and confused. “I’m so tired.”
He helped her lie back on the bed and covered her with the quilt Nonna had made. “I know.” He kissed her forehead. “Why don’t you take a nap? You always feel better after.”
She snuggled into the covers and closed her eyes. “Wake me when Robert gets home.”
“I will, Mother.” He watched her for a moment, then left the room, quietly shutting the door behind him. He paused before continuing down the hallway. “She’s taken her meds, Dolores, so she’ll sleep for you.” He shrugged into his coat. “Text me if you need anything.”
“You can always calm her down. That’s a gift.”
He gave a nod, wishing he had the gift of restoring his mother’s memory. That would have much more worth. From his car, he stared up at the house. He’d had to move in last year when his mother’s condition had worsened. No longer able to care for her from a distance, he’d given up his apartment and most of his personal life to be the dutiful son.
And most days, he didn’t regret it.
* * *
IN THE LARGE commercial kitchen, Page and April took their places at a stainless steel table where cooking utensils and fresh ingredients waited to be transformed into something edible. April wrinkled her nose as she picked up the recipe card. “Homemade pasta? Maybe we’re not ready for this class.”
“I got the night off to come here, so we’re not chickening out.” Page glanced around the kitchen as more students started to filter in. “Besides, I want to make this pasta so we can eat it. I’m starving.”
“I told you to eat something before we came.”
Page brushed off the suggestion. “I was feeling nauseous at the time, but I’m fine now.”
April frowned at her friend. She’d been complaining more often about feeling sick lately. Considering it was Page, this wasn’t unusual. The fact that she tried to downplay it was a concern, however. “Have you seen your oncologist lately?”
“Stop worrying about me. We’re here to mark another item off your list.”
Mrs. Rossi entered the kitchen, and the din of conversations among the students died down. She smiled at each of them. “I’m glad to see so many new faces mixed among my seasoned students. If you saw the recipe cards, you’ll know we’re making pasta tonight. It’s an ambitious task for the first class, but you’ll find that fresh pasta will make a big difference to your cooking.” She picked up an apron and held it up in front of the students. “You’ll find aprons below the table for your use, unless you’d rather go home sprinkled in flour.”
April squatted down and found a stack of white aprons on the shelf. She grabbed two and handed one to Page. “You might want to get one more.”
When April straightened, she found Mr. Harrison standing next to her. “You’re taking the class?”
“My nonna thinks it will help me.” He leaned down, got an apron and put it on over his head, covering the shirt and tie he wore. He wrapped the apron strings around him once and tied them together in the front. He looked natural with it on, and she found herself staring at him, her own apron still in her hand. He took it from her and slipped it on her, looking into her eyes as he secured the ties in front. “There. Now you look like a cook.”
“Mr. Harrison—”
“It’s Zach. And you’re April.”
Page waved her hand between them. “And I’m Page. You’re the sports agent April has been talking about?”
April instantly glared at her. She hadn’t been talking about him. Okay, so she’d mentioned him once or twice. And maybe she’d thought about him more than she should, but it wasn’t like she was obsessed with him. “I told her how you subdued Harley in the ER.”
“And how she saw you when she went dancing. And again when she signed up for this class.” Page shrugged as April stared at her openmouthed. “What? Like it’s any big secret?”
April gestured to Zach. “She makes it sound worse than it is. You’ll find she’s very good at that.”
Mrs. Rossi came around and dropped a sifter on their table before tapping Zach’s cheek. “I’d hoped you would come.” She glanced at April. “But then I see you found a purpose to be here.”
He glanced at April, then at his grandmother. “Thanks for that, Nonna.”
Conversation stopped as they sifted together the all-purpose flour, semolina flour and salt into a large pile in front of the three of them. Zach used a fork to create a deep well in the center of the combined flours, and Page cracked open and added the eggs. Zach handed April the fork, and she started to mix the eggs together while Page put the olive oil into the mixture. When it came time to knead the dough, Zach rolled up his shirtsleeves and did it like an expert. “My nonna had me knead a lot of dough as a kid. I’ve got this part down pat.”
April watched the muscles of his arms as he pushed the dough away, then pulled it toward him, mixing it and forming it into a ball. She admired how his fingers deftly massaged the dough. Why was she thinking about his hands and arms? She didn’t need Mr. Harrison...Zach to become a distraction for her. She was making her life better, and learning to cook was only the beginning.
Zach wrapped the dough in clear plastic wrap so that it could rest for a half hour. Attention returned to Mrs. Rossi as she explained how to prepare a basic pesto sauce. When she called for volunteers, April glanced around the kitchen rather than making eye contact. There was no way she was going to go up to the front of the class and show how inept she was at this. “Why don’t we have April and Zach demonstrate what I’m talking about?”
Rats. Page sniggered behind one hand, and she gave her friend a look. Page shrugged and nudged her toward the front of the kitchen. April followed Zach to where two mortars and pestles sat on the kitchen counter alongside some ingredients: a leafy herb, bulbs of garlic and some kind of seed or nut. Mrs. Rossi had Zach peel and press the garlic while she roughly chopped the herb that turned out to be basil. “You don’t want to shred it. Just chop it into smaller bunches to fit into the mortar and discard the stems.”
Once they were done with that, Mrs. Rossi added some garlic and basil into each mortar, then had Zach and April pound the ingredients with the pestle. Mrs. Rossi tossed pine nuts into their mixture and had them keep pounding. Mrs. Rossi took the pestle from April and showed her a better technique to mix the ingredients into a paste. She wasn’t surprised the older woman had such developed arms with the workout she was getting.
After the pounding, they spooned the paste into a bowl and included shredded Parmesan and olive oil to make a sauce. April leaned closer to the bowl and took an appreciative sniff. It smelled green and clean. Her tummy growled at the thought.
Mrs. Rossi dismissed April and Zach and demonstrated how to roll out the pasta dough and cut it into shapes. Page nudged April. “You looked good up there.”
“Like I knew what I was doing?”
“Well, no. But you didn’t completely embarrass yourself.”
Page dusted the table with semolina flour and unwrapped the ball of dough. She placed it on the table, and April picked up the rolling pin. She moved the pin back and forth, frowning as the dough stuck to the pin. “What am I doing wrong?”
Zach put a hand on hers to stop her from tearing the dough. She almost dropped the rolling pin from the heat of his touch. “You want to move in several directions, not just back and forth. Let me show you.” He put his hands on hers and directed them forward right, then backward left. Forward. Backward right. Diagonals and straight lines. The dough thinned and became smooth, stretching out in front of them in an oval. He sprinkled some semolina on the rolling pin, and together they stretched the dough out even farther.
Nonna stopped at their table and smiled. “This looks great. What pasta shape do you want to make?”
“Ravioli,” Zach said. She patted his cheek and moved on to the next group. When Page and April looked at him, he shrugged. “I used to make them with her. It’s one of my favorite memories.” He handed April a knife. “You’ll want to cut the pasta in squares of equal size.”
She looked at the beautiful yellow dough in front of them. It was almost too pretty to cut into anything, but she carefully placed the knife on one edge and drew it down to the other. Once they had the dough cut into neat squares, Zach retrieved ricotta and Romano cheeses, eggs and parsley. He gave the parsley to Page to chop while April shredded the Romano cheese. He measured the ingredients into a silver mixing bowl, then showed them how to put a tablespoon of the cheese mixture in the middle of one square then place a second over it, pinching the edges to seal it up tight.
April stared at him. “I thought you couldn’t cook?”
He leaned over one ravioli, pinching the edges. “Despite what my nonna believes, I do know how. I just don’t have the time to do it.” He placed the ravioli on the overflowing plate, then looked up at her. “Can you cook?”
She shook her head. “I can microwave frozen meals and chop vegetables for a salad. I also pour a mean bowl of cereal.”
He grinned and brushed the tip of her nose. “You had a little flour there.”
She reached up to where he’d touched her. “Is it gone?”
Page cleared her throat. “You’re fine. So, Chef Boyardee, what do we do next?”
* * *
ZACH REALIZED HE’D been gazing into April’s baby blue eyes for far too long. He glanced at her friend and gave a nod. “Right. Next step. We’ll boil the ravioli for about six or seven minutes. Then we drain them and toss in the pesto.”
“Sounds easy enough.” Page took the plate up to the stoves where students had gathered to place their homemade pastas into the pots of boiling water.
With her friend gone, Zach looked over at April. She wore a soft sweater in a shade of blue that complemented her fair skin and eyes. It looked as if she’d be soft to the touch. Soft, vulnerable. What was he doing? He shouldn’t be thinking about touching her. Yet, she seemed so approachable here in class. And that made her all the more appealing.
April started to gather the dirty dishes and utensils. He followed her to the sink, where he helped rinse them and place them in the dishwasher. They didn’t say a word, but worked well as a team, then returned to their table. Nonna had left them clean plates and forks as well as a small mortar of pesto to try with their ravioli. “Your grandmother is amazing. I didn’t know people could cook like this.”
“This is nothing. You should see her at the holidays.”
He rested against the table and watched her. It must have made her uncomfortable because she sighed. “Do I have something else on my face?”
He shook his head. “No, no, you look beautiful, actually.”
“What? Why are you saying that to me?”
“Because it’s true?” He gave a shrug. “You seem different tonight.”
She met his eyes and gave a short nod. “So do you. Less pushy and kinder.” She looked over to where her friend Page waited for their pasta at the stoves. “Why did you come tonight?”
Nothing like being direct. He took a step closer to her. “Here’s the thing. I’ve tried not to think about you. I’ve pushed you out of my thoughts so many times, but it’s impossible. Therefore, I give up. I came here tonight because I wanted to be near you. To spend time with you and see if this other idea I had is my worst one yet.”
She came up to him and stood toe to toe. “And what other idea would that be?”
“Would you like to go out for dinner sometime?” There. He’d asked her. Maybe it wasn’t as eloquent as he’d hoped it would be, but it was out there now. And it was up to her to accept. Or reject, but he wasn’t going to think about that.
“Why?”
Okay, so that wasn’t the response he’d hoped for. “Why not? Isn’t there something on that second-chance list we could cross off together?”
The friend returned to the table with their cooked ravioli. She thrust the ceramic bowl into Zach’s hands, looked at him, paused, then she looked at April. “What did I miss?”
April shook her head. “Nothing. The pasta looks fantastic.”
Zach spooned pesto on top of the ravioli, then flipped the bowl to toss them in the sauce. He spooned several ravioli on a plate and handed it to April with a fork. He did the same for Page, then he served himself. He watched April cut into a square, then place it on the fork and bring it to her mouth. She opened her lips and took a bite of it. He looked away only to find Page watching them as she chewed.
“Not bad.” Page dug into the rest of her pasta.
April wiped the corners of her mouth with a napkin and exhaled. “It’s magnificent. And to think we made that from scratch.”
He leaned in closer and dropped his voice so that only she could hear him. “We make a good team. Just think of what else we could do together.”
April jerked back, crushing one of her friend’s toes. She apologized, then put her half-eaten plate of pasta down. “I need to... I’ll be right back.”
Page frowned at him. “What are your intentions, exactly?”
He wasn’t sure how much to tell Page. If April didn’t want her friend to know what they’d discussed, then it would be better for him to stay silent. He shrugged. “Trying to get to know her better.” He quickly added, “And you, too.”
“Mmm-hmm.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Something tells me that she’s the one you really want to know.” She placed her empty plate on the table and came up close to him. “If you’re playing games, she’s not interested. She’s been through too much to let a guy mess with her head. And if you hurt her, you’ll deal with me.”
“I don’t plan on hurting anyone.”
Page scowled at him, then looked in the direction April had just headed for. He all but dropped his plate of ravioli on the table, no longer hungry. He held up his hands. “Fine. I’ll go talk to her.”
He paused long enough to grab his wool trench coat before leaving the kitchen and walking to the parking lot. April paced, her arms across her body, shivering in the cold. He took several long strides to reach her, then removed his coat and slid it over her shoulders. “It’s cold out here. You need a jacket.”
She pulled the lapels of the coat closer around her. “Thanks. I wasn’t thinking.”
“What were you doing?”
She looked up at him and sighed. “Why did you ask me out?”
“I told you. I can’t stop thinking about you. I figured it would be better to get to know you so I can have that time back to concentrate on my job.” He noticed the snowflakes that had frosted her curly hair. He longed to reach up and brush them away. Instead, he crossed his arms over his chest and hunched his shoulders together. “Could we talk about this inside where it’s warmer?”
April frowned at him for a few moments, then shook her head. “No, thank you.”
“You won’t talk to me inside?”
“No, I can’t go out with you. I don’t really like you, Mr. Harrison.” She offered a polite smile, turned on her heel and presumably headed for the kitchen.
He had no choice but to follow, his curiosity piqued. He was a likable guy, right?
CHAPTER FOUR (#u80d9f3d1-361a-5f14-84f1-dba24c3f0610)
FIVE WOMEN SHOWED up for the weekly breast cancer support group meeting at the Hope Center. April glanced at the other four women, one of them Lynn, the facilitator. “Where is Stephanie?” she asked as she took a seat in the circle.
Lynn winced as the other three women looked down at the ground. “She died over the weekend.”
“Oh.” Stephanie had been diagnosed with stage four breast cancer the same time that April had found the lump. She realized she’d been comparing the two of them at each stage of the disease, even though Stephanie’s cancer had been more advanced. “But she seemed to be doing so well.”
“Complications from pneumonia, they said.”
Page entered the center and took a seat next to April, glancing at the somber faces surrounding her. “Who died?”
“Stephanie.”
Page blew out a breath as she took off her coat. “Wow, I didn’t expect you to say that. She was doing better, I thought.”
Lynn nodded and took a seat, motioning the others to do the same. “That’s why we should talk tonight about being vigilant when it comes to our health. How many of you thought you were healthy when you first discovered you had cancer?”
Nearly everyone raised her hand. Page sat on hers and shrugged. “I figured it would get me one day, so I wasn’t really surprised. More like relieved that I could stop worrying about when it was going to happen. Now I could focus on getting it out.”
“For the most part, we figured we were okay until our diagnoses. But our bodies had been sending clues that we probably chose to ignore or dismiss.” Lynn sat forward in her chair. “I didn’t do monthly self-exams because no one in my family had ever had cancer. Diabetes and heart disease, sure. But cancer? I assumed I was safe.”
One of the women nodded. “I did my self-exams, but my cancer was too small to feel. So I thought I was okay, too.”
“Now that we’ve had cancer, we need to listen to our bodies even more. If something doesn’t feel right, have it checked out. Keep a journal. Talk to your doctor.” Lynn glanced around the circle, her gaze landing on April. “Just because you’ve had cancer doesn’t make you immune from everything else out there. Because you’re a cancer survivor doesn’t mean you won’t have a heart attack, or like Stephanie, die from complications with pneumonia. Being a survivor means that you faced down one demon, but we still need to be on the lookout for others.”
It made sense to April that having cancer didn’t give her a free pass on other potential health issues. Though in fairness, it seemed as if it should. She’d had to go through so much already that she shouldn’t have to worry about anything else. The reoccurrence of cancer was enough to keep her awake at night.
Lynn moved on to the sharing portion of the meeting, and one of the others talked about her recent scans. April noticed Page wasn’t even pretending to be listening but picking at one of her cuticles. April leaned toward her. “What’s going on?”
Page put her finger to her mouth. “Shh, it’s sharing time.”
Lynn turned to Page. “Did you want to share something with the group?”
Page shook her head. “Naw, I’m good for this week.”
Lynn looked at April. “How are you coming along with your second-chance list?”
The entire group knew about April’s list and had even brainstormed ideas to add to it. She shrugged. “We took a cooking class a few days ago. That was pretty cool.”
“Tell them about the hot guy.”
April frowned at Page. “The hot guy has nothing to do with my list.”
“So you admit that you’re attracted to him? Why won’t you go out with him?”
“Because I don’t like him. Sure, he’s good-looking, but he rubs me the wrong way.” April crossed her arms over her chest. “Why should I go out with someone like that?”
“You don’t know him well enough to not like him.” Page appealed to the group. “You should have seen the sparks between them when they rolled out the pasta dough.”
Lynn’s eyebrows shot up. “He asked you out?”
“Yes, and I shot him down.”
“Isn’t the point of your second-chance list to take you out of your comfort zone and see what else is out there?” Lynn pleaded, “Isn’t going out on one date with him part of that?”
April bit her lip. Part of her resented Page for bringing up Zach. Another part knew she and Lynn were right. April hadn’t given him a chance, but then why should she? If cancer had taught her anything it was that life was too short to waste on regrets. She couldn’t explain why she didn’t like Zach, but then, she didn’t need to. She knew she’d regret it if she tried to get close to him. “No. My second-chance list is about doing things I’ve wanted to do but didn’t have time for or the opportunity to pursue. It’s not about squandering time with pushy men who have a cell phone stuck to their ear.”
“Okay, okay. What’s next on your list?”
“I haven’t decided.” She hadn’t thought that far ahead yet. She figured she’d close her eyes and point to one.
“Wait.” Page sat up straighter in her chair. “There’s a doctor at the hospital that has tickets for an exclusive wine tasting. I couldn’t go with him, so I gave him your number.”
April groaned. “A blind date? Really?”
“Not so blind. You know Dr. Ross in Pediatrics?”
April glared and mentally scanned the staff at the hospital. “The name is familiar. Maybe I know him.”
“Well, don’t be surprised when he calls you. He definitely remembered who you were and seemed interested.” Page gave her a bright smile. “And I know that going to a wine tasting is on your list.”
It wouldn’t hurt to give Dr. Ross a shot. But then why wouldn’t she do the same for Zach? asked a little voice. She shook her head. Because that was a completely different situation. She’d seen Zach in action and hadn’t cared for him. But Dr. Ross was a mystery. One she’d be interested in unraveling given the chance.
* * *
THE KNOCKING ON his bedroom door wouldn’t stop. Zach checked the clock. A little after three in the morning. Rubbing his eyes, he walked to the door and opened it. “What’s wrong, Mom?”
“You’re going to be late for school.” She peered behind him into the darkened room. “Why aren’t you dressed?”
“It’s not morning yet, Mom. And I haven’t been in school for more than a dozen years.” He put his arm around her shoulders. “Why don’t you go on back to bed and I’ll read you a chapter from your book?”
She smiled. “The romance one? Love stories are my favorite.”
He nodded and led her down the hall toward her bedroom. “I know.” He squinted from the bright light in the room, but helped his mom into bed. He sat in the recliner and pulled the book they’d been reading the past week from the bookshelf and flipped to where they’d left off earlier that evening.
As he read aloud to her about the Duke of Montmorency and the governess who taught his young ward, the words lulled his mother to sleep. After three pages, her eyes closed and soft snores accompanied his reading. He put the bookmark in place and watched her for a moment. When she slept like this, he remembered how she used to be—so vibrant, full of laughter and funny stories. Her eyes were clear and bright, not clouded with confusion. He missed his mother, grieved for her even though she was still alive. He wished he could do more for her, that he could find a doctor who’d be able to bring her back to him, restore the person she’d once been. Unfortunately, the doctors had told him her disease wouldn’t get better. She had moments of lucidity, but they came less often. And she stubbornly held on to the past as her present.
He replaced the book on the shelf, then stood and covered his mother with the blanket. She stirred, and he held his breath to see if she’d stay asleep. Her eyes remained closed, so he leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Good night, Mom.”
He tiptoed out of the room and turned off the light before slowly shutting the door. The snores on the other side meant that he could return to his own bed. But when he lay down under the sheets, he stared at the ceiling, unable to stop the tumble of thoughts in his brain. His mother’s condition seemed to be getting worse. She’d soon need more care than what he could provide. And that meant finding a facility for her. He shut his eyes tight. He couldn’t think about that now. Wouldn’t try to imagine what it would be like to give up on his mother when she needed him the most.
April’s face popped into his mind. The thought of her made him smile despite the fact that she’d rejected him. That was okay. He could ask her out again. There was something about her that intrigued him. That called out to him in a moment like this when he needed to be calm, when sleep wasn’t coming.
* * *
APRIL FELT ALONG the sides of the teen boy’s throat before she turned to the mother, who clearly fretted as she watched. “His glands are swollen, so it’s probably strep throat.” She took a tongue depressor and cotton swab from her coat pocket as well as the small flashlight. “Wade, I need you to open your mouth as wide as you can. I have to run a test to make sure what we’re dealing with.”
The boy opened his mouth, and she used the tongue depressor to stabilize his tongue while she ran the cotton swab along the red, inflamed tissues near the back of his throat. When she finished, she put the swab in a plastic tube and marked the sticker on the outside with Wade’s name and hers. “I’ll have the lab check this ASAP. When is the last time you visited your regular doctor?”
The mother gave a shrug. Based on the shabbiness of her winter coat and the scant information on the intake forms, April could guess that it had been a long time. The only reason that they’d shown up in her ER that morning was because Wade had stopped breathing in class when his throat had swollen to the point of closing. A quick-thinking school nurse had gotten him breathing again before the ambulance arrived. “If it’s strep, I’ll give you some antibiotics and you’ll be off school for a few days until you’re better.” She turned to the mother. “Any questions for me?”
“How much will all this cost? I’m already missing work to be here.”
“I’ll get our information on payment plans, and the hospital can make arrangements with you. I’ll be right back.” She stepped out of the curtained area and almost ran into a tall man in a white lab coat with green eyes and graying temples. “Sorry, Doctor.”
“Dr. Sprader? April, right?”
She nodded and tried to recall if she knew him. His name didn’t register. “Did I call you for a consult?” It had been one of those days and she might have forgotten about it.
“I’ve been meaning to call you all week, but things kept coming up.”
A lightbulb flashed on in her mind. “Dr. Ross and the wine tasting.”
“Page told you about me? Good.” He glanced around the crowded emergency room. “Do you have a few minutes for us to talk?”
She held up the tube with Wade’s throat culture. “Gotta get this to the lab. We can talk while we walk.”
She started to zip around patients and medical staff. The sooner she got the swab to the lab, the sooner she’d have answers for Wade and his mother. And she didn’t want to wait too long and have other lab tests get in the queue ahead of her.
She glanced back once to make sure that Dr. Ross had kept pace with her. He was faring not too badly, only one or two people behind her. She paused as she got to the laboratory. He came up beside her. “You move fast for such a tiny thing.”
She ignored the way the comment made her bristle. “You’d be surprised how often that skill comes in handy.” And she strode faster through the laboratory’s glass door.
“Dr. Sprader. April. Are you free tomorrow evening about seven?” he called after her.
She smiled at Javier, the intake manager, who accepted the swab and input the patient’s name and date of birth in the computer. He smiled back. “We’re about thirty minutes behind today.”
April put her hand on his arm. “But you’ll put mine at the top of the list, right?”
He winked at her and passed the throat culture to one of the lab techs. April turned to Dr. Ross. “You were asking me about tomorrow night?”
He frowned sharply. “Do you always flirt with the staff to get your tests moved up in the queue?”
“No. Sometimes I bribe them with cookies.” She laughed at his dour expression. “That’s a joke. Javier and his team follow protocol, so you can erase those frown lines on your forehead. I’ll have my results in due course.”
“Oh.” He took a deep breath, then squared his shoulders. “Would you like to accompany me to a wine tasting tomorrow night? I’ve got tickets to an exclusive party, and your friend Page thought you might be interested.”
She eyed him up and down. He wasn’t bad-looking in an older, distinguished-man kind of way. He might lack a sense of humor, but then, she couldn’t have everything, right? Learning about different wines was on her second-chance list, so she agreed. “Okay. It’s a date.”
He gave a brief smile and walked away. April discovered Javier watching Dr. Ross’s departure. “You’re sure about going out with that guy?” he asked.
She shrugged. “You’re married. What other choice do I have?”
They shared a grin, and she pushed off the wall and zigzagged back to the emergency room.
* * *
ZACH FOUND AN empty parking spot behind Marissa’s wine shop and checked his appearance in the rearview mirror before getting out of the car. Not that he needed to look good for her anymore. She’d made it clear when they got divorced that she had no plans for reconciliation. In fact, she remarried within a year and seemed happier with Jeff than she had with him. He tried to be happy for her.
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Syndi Powell
Now that she’s healed… can she heal him? Armed with a clean bill of health, ER doctor April Sprader is ready to check off items on her bucket list. After meeting Zach Harrison, number four–start dating–shoots to the top. But the workaholic sports agent and caregiver has no spare time. Unless April can persuade Zach that this could be a second chance for them both…
Now that she’s healed...can she heal him?
Armed with a clean bill of health, ER doctor April Sprader is ready to check off items on her bucket list. After meeting Zach Harrison, number four—start dating—shoots to the top. But the workaholic sports agent and caregiver has no spare time. Unless April can persuade Zach that this could be a second chance for them both...
SYNDI POWELL started writing stories when she was young and has made it a lifelong pursuit. She’s been reading Mills & Boon romance novels since she was in her teens and is thrilled to be on the Mills & Boon team. She loves to connect with readers on Twitter, @syndipowell (https://twitter.com/syndipowell), or on her Facebook author page, Facebook.com/syndipowellauthor (https://www.facebook.com/syndipowellauthor).
Also By Syndi Powell (#u80d9f3d1-361a-5f14-84f1-dba24c3f0610)
Afraid to Lose Her
The Sweetheart Deal
Two-Part Harmony
Risk of Falling
The Reluctant Bachelor
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Healing Hearts
Syndi Powell
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ISBN: 978-1-474-08090-3
HEALING HEARTS
© 2018 Cynthia Powell
Published in Great Britain 2018
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
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“You look beautiful.” Zach smiled.
“Why are you saying that to me?”
“Because it’s true?”
April looked into his eyes. “Why did you come here tonight?”
Nothing like being direct. Zach took a step closer to her. “The thing is, I’ve tried not to think about you, but it’s impossible. So I am officially giving up. I came here tonight because I wanted to be near you. To spend time with you and see if this is the worst idea I’ve ever had.”
“And what idea would that be?”
“Would you like to go out for dinner sometime?” There. He’d asked her. Maybe the invitation wasn’t as eloquent as he’d hoped it would be, but it was out there now. And it was up to her to accept it. Or reject it, but he wasn’t going to think about that.
“Why?”
Okay, well, that wasn’t the response he’d hoped for. “Why not? Isn’t there something on that second-chance list we could cross off together?”
Dear Reader (#u80d9f3d1-361a-5f14-84f1-dba24c3f0610),
I hope you’ve been enjoying Hope Center Stories as much as I have. Three different women on three different breast cancer journeys, but all of them strong survivors.
It’s funny because though all three women are so different from one other, they each represent part of my own cancer story. In the first book, Sherri expressed my own thoughts and fears at the time I was diagnosed. With April’s story, I was able to explore my own second-chance list of what I wanted to do after I was well again. Some of her items that she wants to check off are similar to those I had, but haven’t completed as of yet. I need more of my inner April to come out and play!
This story is also about those caretakers who give up pieces of their lives to help family members. I was privileged enough to be caretaker to my dad before he passed away in 2008. I remember at times feeling so overwhelmed by his care that I called my mom to tell her I couldn’t do it anymore. I couldn’t watch as he faded away day after day. Yet looking back on it now, I wouldn’t trade that time with him for anything. I grew closer to my dad and cherish those small moments we shared. While Zach might not yet appreciate his own struggles with caring for his mom, I hope to show that caretakers are indeed special and blessed.
Thank you for passing along these stories to family and friends. We are always stronger together!
Syndi
Sometimes family isn’t the one you’re born into, but the one you create.
To my stepdad, Russell D’Hondt, who loves to come up with twists and turns in the plot with me (you can thank him for helping me out of many a writing corner!) and who treats my mother like the queen she is. And to my stepbrother, John D’Hondt, who is showing us all how to take charge of your own life and make a difference instead of excuses.
Keep up the great work!
Contents
Cover (#ud4e7316b-ab03-5dc0-ba1b-c23d1cb63185)
Back Cover Text (#u321f9430-a463-55b7-a1ed-f68cf6b8d8dd)
About the Author (#u63fe3ffa-faba-5890-8179-1ab8bc473e89)
Booklist (#ud387a388-1caf-5c97-be41-bfb231e9cd0c)
Title Page (#u5b07b563-eb65-5d8f-8e13-03dc06b5c417)
Copyright (#u29455588-d0c3-58ab-9854-dad38440f563)
Introduction (#u114f744d-88ad-5513-b1f2-0cd4874c4b49)
Dear Reader (#u2135984b-a5f5-56b6-a93e-fe44c4c3c709)
Dedication (#uc992bc8d-6661-5adf-8aa2-54f43f74d3e9)
CHAPTER ONE (#udf651d01-c3f7-5ae7-8c77-f9fadbed4756)
CHAPTER TWO (#uebc841f2-c076-5562-a8eb-fc2cfbabea28)
CHAPTER THREE (#u00cb308b-8899-5812-9654-bb6b4aa8c458)
CHAPTER FOUR (#u6036030d-3b01-5c3f-861e-bd1ec3cd5db1)
CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE (#u80d9f3d1-361a-5f14-84f1-dba24c3f0610)
APRIL SPRADER WANTED one moment of sanity. Just one minute when she didn’t have to run between examination rooms because she didn’t have enough staff, which she didn’t. Her emergency department was shorthanded. Again. Half of the doctors and nurses out with the flu. Again. And the patients kept coming. She listened to her current patient’s breathing sounds. “Another deep breath, please.”
The older man sucked in air. She could hear the distinctive wheeze of infected bronchial tubes and removed the stethoscope from her ears. “I can run more tests, but it seems you have bronchitis.”
The man had a scrunched expression. “Not pneumonia, then.”
“Like I said, I could run more tests, but you’re wheezing due to inflamed lungs. They don’t have the liquid buildup of pneumonia.” She made a note on his chart and took a prescription pad from the front pocket of her lab coat. “You need to drink plenty of fluids and get some rest.” She wrote two prescriptions and ripped the slips from the pad before handing them to the man. “You can either fill these here at the hospital or take them to your local pharmacy. One’s for an inhaler, the other for a stronger cough medicine. If things don’t improve in a week, see your regular doctor.”
He thanked her and stuffed the prescriptions in the front pocket of his flannel shirt. One down. Only twenty-two more or so to go before she could take fifteen minutes for herself.
She left the curtained area and returned to the pit, where she checked the charts of waiting patients. Her head nurse, Janet, had prioritized them in order of urgency, so she only had to grab the top one and walk away. Heart palpitations in curtain five. Yep, that would be a priority.
She pushed the curtain aside and double-checked the chart. “Antonio Johnson?” She glanced at the African American kid sitting on the hospital bed. He looked no more than eighteen, although his chart gave his age as twenty-two, so why was he having heart issues? The kid offered her a weak smile as she stepped forward. “What brings you to my ER tonight?”
“He complained of chest pain and passed out at practice today.” A good-looking man with artfully messy dark hair in a charcoal-gray business suit and light blue tie, with a cell phone plastered to his ear, moved closer to Johnson. “I need to know. Is his football career over? Is it his heart?”
She raised her eyebrows at this. “And you are?”
“His agent.” He then ignored her and spoke softly into his phone.
April tried not to roll her eyes at him and focused instead on Antonio. “What were you doing before you passed out?”
“We were trying a five-ten-five shuttle run, which I’ve done a million times. And when I hit the forty-yard line, things got fuzzy and the next thing I knew, I’m lying on the field and the coach is yelling at me to get up.”
The only words she had understood were that he’d passed out on a sports field. “A five-ten-five?”
“You know. It’s a drill we run at practices. But this was a tryout.” Antonio gave a one-shoulder shrug. “I’ve never had that happen before.”
“Your...” She glanced briefly at the man hissing into the phone. Really? “Your agent mentioned chest pains?”
Antonio shook his head. “That was before. I felt fine. Well, dizzy but fine. But you know. So is it my heart, Doc?”
She removed her stethoscope from around her neck and used the earpieces before pressing the chest piece to his back. “Take a few deep breaths for me.”
The kid complied, and she could hear normal breathing sounds. She then placed the chest piece over his heart. She could hear the rhythmic beating as well as a distinctive click. She removed the earpieces and placed the stethoscope around her neck once again. “Have you experienced these palpitations and chest pains before?”
“No, he’s in perfect health. This has never happened before. Like we said.”
April was taken aback at the agent and tried to keep her lip from curling. “I was asking Antonio. My patient.” She turned back to the kid. “Has this ever happened before?”
The kid looked at his agent, then shifted back to her. “Maybe a couple times, but then it was okay. And I didn’t pass out or nothing.”
“You never told me about that.”
Antonio shrugged off his agent’s comment. “It didn’t seem like a big deal. I could feel my heart beating out of my chest, but then it would calm down. Besides, I was in the middle of a workout and your heart is supposed to be pumping that hard.” He focused on her. “Right?”
She gave a nod and made some notes on his chart. “I’d like to do some tests to be sure I understand what’s going on with you.”
The agent scoffed. “Tests? He needs to be back on the field before the coach starts wondering if he needs to find another receiver.”
She didn’t second-guess herself, getting into the agent’s personal space and poking him in the chest. “Hey. Antonio needs to be sure that this isn’t something more serious, something that could end his life, much less his career.”
The man clenched his jaw, and she could see a steady heartbeat in his carotid artery. He narrowed his eyes at her. “Can I see you in private for a moment?”
The agent moved past her and she followed him, but she wasn’t going to back down. She didn’t care how handsome he was or how important he thought his client was, Antonio needed these tests to confirm what she suspected. The man studied her name tag. “Dr. Sprader, I’m sure you can understand the pressure that Antonio is under. He’s a rookie who needs to prove himself. Any kind of issue before he signs with the team, and he’s not likely to see a contract.”
“And I’m sure you can understand that my number one concern is the health of your client. That should be yours, as well.” She put her hand on the curtain to push it aside. The man put his hand on hers to still it. She turned toward him. “Don’t touch me.”
He removed his hand from hers. “What if we promise to go to his regular doctor...tomorrow?”
She doubted that they would make it a priority if Antonio had a tryout scheduled at the same time. “What if I order these tests, and you stop interfering with my job?”
“He’s my job, too. My client.”
“And he’s my patient. Now, why don’t you go to the cafeteria and get a coffee while I take care of Antonio?” She glanced down at his buzzing phone. The sound was annoying. “Or better yet, take your phone to the parking lot and look after your business so I can look after mine.”
The agent bristled, but put his phone to his ear and stalked away. April seized a deep cleansing breath to center herself and focus again on Antonio. Now she pushed the curtain aside. “Okay, then. I’m ordering an echocardiogram to get a better picture of what’s happening with your heart.”
Antonio’s face paled. “Doc, be straight. Is it bad? Am I going to die? Is my football career over already?”
“Let’s see the results of the tests first, then I’ll have a cardiologist take a look at you, too.” She put a hand on his knee. “If it’s what I suspect it is, with treatment and observation, you’ll still have a long life.”
He gave a nod, then cocked his head to the side. “And football?”
“You can still have that, too.” She made more notes on his chart. “But let’s wait and find out what the tests say.”
She sent him a reassuring smile and stepped beyond the curtain. As she did so, a man grabbed her and put a knife to her throat. “Where’s the drug closet?”
Great. It was going to be one of those days.
* * *
ZACH HARRISON FINISHED his last phone call and glanced back at the entrance to the emergency room. Coach Petrullo had called to check on Antonio’s condition. “The overzealous doctor is running tests, but Antonio will be on the field good as new tomorrow,” he’d assured the man. He only hoped he hadn’t overstated the truth. The kid had to be okay. He was young and active. His football career was about to begin. Fate wouldn’t be so cruel as to take it away. Right?
Zach slipped his phone into his suit coat pocket and walked through the open automatic doors. He needed Antonio in action, but he needed the kid healthy even more. He regretted how callous he’d probably come across to Dr. Sprader earlier. He’d noticed how she’d barely kept her contempt under wraps, and he wanted to go back in time and change that. He wasn’t that kind of guy. He could be nice. A sweetheart, even. Though he’d been accused of using that to his advantage, rather than being sincere.
Shaking off all thoughts of his ex-wife, he practiced what he was going to say to the cute doctor and headed toward where Antonio waited. He saw the doc talking to another patient, a man who seemed to be standing too close to her. Zach paused and assessed the situation. Not only was the guy standing too close, the knife in his hand meant he was a threat. Zach couldn’t spot the security guard he’d seen earlier in the hallways. He knew what he had to do. He’d had self-defense training for situations like this.
He sauntered up to the curtained area. The patient noted him and waved the knife. “Stop. Or I’ll slice her throat. I swear I will.”
Zach held up his hands. “I’m not going to stop you. I’m only here for my client.” He pointed to Antonio, who watched with wide eyes. He looked as if he were ready to jump off the bed and pummel the guy. Zach waved him off. “Why don’t you tell us what you want?”
The grizzled man wore clothes that smelled as if they hadn’t been washed in weeks. “I want to stop the pain.”
Dr. Sprader struggled in the guy’s arms. “I told you last time that you don’t need the drugs, Harley.”
So the good doctor knew the man. Probably had a history of coming into the ER. Zach saw how Harley’s grip on the knife was loosening the more they talked. His knuckles were no longer white from strain. Instead, he flexed his fingers on the handle. If Zach could keep them talking, maybe he could disarm the guy.
“Harley.” The man turned to look at Zach. “What kind of drugs will help you? Maybe if you tell me, then I can go get them.”
The doctor’s eyes flared with emotion, probably anger and even shock. Harley licked his lips. “Oxy works best. Takes the edge off.”
Antonio shifted in the bed, drawing Harley’s attention to him. And as that happened, Zach rushed forward and did a roundhouse kick to knock the knife out of the guy’s hand and send it skittering across the floor. Dr. Sprader used the man’s shock to grab his arm and twist it behind his back. She pushed him facedown onto the hospital bed. “Go get security,” she told Zach.
He nodded and ran to the front desk. When he returned, he saw that Dr. Sprader had help from a few nurses to keep the man subdued. The security guard came and took the guy away. Zach hurried to Antonio’s side. “Are you okay?”
“Where did you learn a kick like that?”
Zach gave a shrug. “High school. I was a puny kid with a target on my back. Had to learn how to protect myself, so Pops took me to self-defense classes.” He looked over at Dr. Sprader. “How about you? Are you okay?”
She gave a short nod as she reached up to touch the side of her neck. A small trickle of blood had stained the neckline of her pastel blue scrubs. She seemed to be barely containing what he figured was disgust. “Thanks for the assist.”
Obviously, his heroics hadn’t changed her first impression of him. “Any time.” He turned to Antonio. “Let’s start those tests and we’ll find out what’s going on with you, so that we can get out of here.”
* * *
PAGE KOSINSKI, APRIL’S best friend, found her sitting on the floor of the women’s restroom. April had hoped that she would have a few more moments of refuge before resuming her duties. Just another five minutes alone would have been great. Instead, she looked at Page, who had squatted down beside her and was checking the cut on her neck from Harley. “I told you that you needed to report him the last time he came here looking for drugs.”
April slapped her friend’s hand away. “It’s no big deal. I’m fine. Harley got arrested and can now get the help he needs.”
“But what if that guy hadn’t been around to save your butt? What if Harley had really hurt you this time?” Page took a seat on the floor next to her. “You give people too many chances. When are you going to start putting yourself first?”
“Don’t you think I’ve been sitting here asking myself the same thing?” She paused and asked Page, “Did you get a glance at my hero?”
Page waggled her eyebrows and waved her hand in front of her face. “Hot.”
“He’s also arrogant and too sure of himself.” April winced as she got to her feet and stretched. “What am I doing here, anyway?”
“Working your shift like you always do.”
April nodded. “Exactly. I told myself that when I defeated cancer, I would change. That I would go out there and do everything I’ve always wanted to.” She held her hands out to her sides. “And what have I done? I’m back to working extra shifts and sleeping in the on-call room instead of going home. And why? Because it’s more convenient to just stay here. I can’t keep doing this.”
“I’ve been telling you that for months.” Page rose to her feet and washed her hands in the sink. She tugged a few paper towels from the dispenser and dried her fingers. She crushed the towels into a ball and tossed them in the trash can. “So what are you going to do?”
April peered into the mirror and stared at her reflection. She ran a hand through her curly hair. Before breast cancer had taken away her hair, it had been thin, straight and whitish blond. Now that it had grown back, it was honey-colored, coarse and curly. Sometimes she looked at herself and wondered where the woman she’d once been had gone, not just physically, but emotionally, as well. She had been bold. Sassy. And unflappable. Now she worried about everything. Self-doubt tied her hands and kept her stationary, rather than taking action and doing something. She gave herself a nod. “It’s time.”
Page raised her eyebrows at this. “Time for what?”
April turned and looked her squarely in the eye. “It’s time to start living.”
She pushed herself away from the sink and left the bathroom. Page dogged her at her heels. “You’re talking about that second-chance list in your journal?”
“I’ve got my new body, so why not a new perspective?” She checked her cell phone and saw that she had four missed calls, two of them from her supervisor. She punched the number and glanced at Page. “Dinner later? Maybe call Sherri and see if she can leave Agent Hottie for the night and join us.”
Page patted her shoulder and went briskly along the hallway to return to her own job. April’s supervisor answered on the second ring. “Darryl, I’m fine. Just needed a few minutes.”
“Well, get your butt back on the floor. We’re swamped.”
She bit her lip and took a deep breath. “About that. It’s time we talked about the vacation time coming to me.”
* * *
ZACH FOLLOWED THE aide who pushed Antonio in the wheelchair from the cardiology department back to the emergency room. The aide left them in a different curtained area from before, and Zach took a seat in a metal folding chair next to the bed where Antonio was now. Checking his phone, Zach saw several texts, many of them from clients and one from his mom’s day nurse. She was asking him if he would be home at a reasonable hour, or should she arrange for an evening nurse to arrive before her shift was over. His fingers flew as he told her he’d call her once they left the hospital.
The curtain was drawn aside, and Dr. Sprader entered the cozy alcove. She looked different from before, though he couldn’t put his finger on what it was. She wore the same pastel blue scrubs with the bloodstain on the collar. Her messy curls hadn’t changed, and her face remained void of cosmetics. Not that she needed them. Her skin seemed to glow without any enhancement, and her blue eyes snapped with whatever thoughts danced in her head. She barely acknowledged him, before focusing on Antonio. “The results have come in, and I’ve consulted with Dr. Hall, a cardiologist on staff.” She took a seat on the edge of the bed. “You have mitral valve prolapse.”
Antonio clutched at his chest. Zach reached over and patted the boy’s hand. “Doc, am I dying?”
She shook her head. “Your heart valve is leaky, which causes a murmur. Things like stress or overexertion will aggravate the situation, giving you palpitations and chest pain.” She passed several business cards to Antonio. “Here are a few cardiologists in the area. Choose one to follow up with. You’re going to want a good one on your team, so I’d recommend Dr. Hall, but feel free to ask around for recommendations.” She shifted her attention to him, and Zach tried not to stare. “Questions?”
Was she single? He doubted it. Women like her with beauty and smarts tended to be unavailable. He cleared his throat. “So he can keep playing, then?”
“With monitoring, medication and some lifestyle changes, there’s no reason he can’t live with this until the off-season. But then I’d recommend surgery at that point.”
Antonio let out a loud “Yes!” He jumped off the bed and pulled her into a hug that nearly crushed her. “Thanks, Doc.”
Then he and Antonio knocked knuckles in an elaborate handshake that Antonio made him learn the moment after the kid signed the contract to work with him. “We really dodged a bullet on this one, Zach.”
Antonio turned back to the doctor. “So I can go?” he asked. When she nodded, he walked out with hands raised high in triumph.
Dr. Sprader handed him some business cards. “He needs to follow up with a cardiologist, and I get the impression you’re going to have to be the one to convince him. This isn’t a dire condition, but he needs regular checkups so that things like collapsing on the field won’t happen again.”
“Understood.” Zach shrugged back into his suit coat and put the cards in his inside pocket.
As he walked by her, she reached out and touched his coat sleeve. “About what happened with Harley earlier.”
He turned to face her. He’d been waiting for this. “There’s no need to thank me.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I was going to tell you that it wasn’t necessary. That I had things under control before you jumped in.”
He pointed to her neck where the knife had cut her. “I can see that.”
“Harley is harmless. He wouldn’t have actually cut my throat.” She glared at him. “I don’t need a hero.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure about that, Dr. Sprader?”
“Perfectly.” She continued to stare at him and then exhaled. “You know my name, but I don’t know yours.”
He extended his hand. “Zach Harrison.”
She put her hand in his and gave it a quick shake. “Make sure Antonio sees one of the cardiologists, Mr. Harrison. Otherwise, his career won’t save him from another episode.”
Zach’s phone started buzzing. He gave a brisk nod, then left her, his phone already at his ear. She may be interesting, but he had other priorities right now.
* * *
APRIL PULLED UP in front of the house that belonged to her friends Sherri and Dez Jackson. While she would have liked an evening out, Sherri had been under the weather. April retracted the phrase. What Sherri felt...it was as if her body had been scorched to get the cancer out. April remembered the sensation and gave a shiver that had nothing to do with the snowflakes drifting down from the sky. Her days battling cancer were long over, thank goodness. Now she had to put her life back together, hopefully better than it was before. She needed balance between work and personal life. Correction. She needed to get a personal life.
She grabbed her purse and journal from the front seat and exited the car. Page pulled in behind her, so she waited for her to park. They walked up to the front door, unsure of how they’d find Sherri. April knocked and soon Agent Hottie answered the door. “She’s in the family room,” Dez told them after the perfunctory hugs and kisses. “And I don’t need to tell you two to take it easy on her. Don’t wear her out.”
“We know how she’s feeling better than you do.” Page shoved a pizza box into his hands. “For you and Marcus to share. Us girls have our own.”
They walked through the living room and kitchen and down one step where they found Sherri on the sofa with her legs up on the coffee table, wrapped in a fleece blanket. She looked up at them and gave a watery smile. “Thanks for bringing the girls’ night to me.”
She had dark shadows under her eyes and looked as if she could fall asleep at any moment. April put a hand on her shoulder. “If you’re not up for company...”
“Don’t you dare leave me.” She pointed to two recliners adjacent to the sofa. “Now, sit and tell me something good.”
“April got a knife pulled on her in the ER today,” Page said, opening their box of pizza.
Sherri gasped. “And that was good?”
“Because of it, she met a hot guy who saved her by kicking the knife out of the junkie’s hand.” Page offered a slice of pizza to Sherri, who waved it away. She then handed the slice to April.
Sherri gave a soft smile. “And who was this hot guy?”
“An annoying jerk who wanted me to tell him his client was fine without running any tests.” April took a bite of her pizza and chewed, thinking about Zach Harrison. “If he hadn’t been so irritating, I might have found him attractive.” Page and Sherri exchanged glances. April pointed between them. “What does that look mean?”
Page cocked her head to the side. “It means he’s your soul mate, obviously.”
What? That was the most ludicrous idea she’d ever heard. She was about to tell them so when they burst out laughing.
Still chuckling, Sherri said, “She’s joking. It means we’re happy that you finally have started to notice men.”
“I notice them.” April paused when she saw Page roll her eyes. “I just choose not to do anything about it.”
“And when is that going to change? I thought getting back in the dating scene was on your list.” Page gestured at the journal that April had placed next to her chair. “Isn’t that what you were talking about earlier? That it’s time to begin living your life again? To start dating and falling in love.”
“Yes, it’s time.” She opened the journal and found the page where she had written a second-chance list of things to do when she was healthy again. She’d pored over the list as she’d sat in the chair during chemotherapy. Written and rewritten it until she’d found the top twenty things she most wanted to do. Number four was to start dating. “So how do I do it?”
Page gestured at Sherri, who shook her head. “Don’t look at me. Dez and I didn’t really date before we got married. I mean, we’d been friends for years, but we didn’t date.”
“And I haven’t exactly been single for that long.” Page rubbed her left ring finger. The wedding band was removed a few weeks ago when the divorce became final. “There are plenty of online sites to help you find dates.”
April made a face. “I’m not sure about that. Don’t you two know anyone you can set me up with?”
Sherri snapped her fingers. “What about my cousin Mateo? He’s single, and I guess he’s good-looking.”
She remembered meeting him last summer at a party celebrating Sherri’s last chemo appointment. “He’s not my type.”
Page held up one hand like a stop sign. “Hot and available is not your type?”
Sherri turned to Page. “You think Mateo is hot?”
“So does every other woman in Detroit. Come on. The man is seriously good-looking.” Page fanned herself. “And you want to pass that up, April?”
April gave a shrug. “All right. If he agrees, I guess I could go out with him.”
Dez joined them and handed Sherri a cup of steaming tea that brought the scent of ginger with it. “You ladies all right out here?”
Sherri kissed his hand before taking the mug. “Dez, do you know any available guys for April?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. What’s your type, April?”
“It’s been so long, single is her type.” Page snapped her fingers. “There’s that one doctor who asked you out a while ago, but you took no notice of him.”
“Because I’d just been diagnosed with cancer. I wasn’t worrying about dating at the time.” She remembered how he’d stammered out an invitation to a concert. She could only think that she might be dying, and going to see a symphony was the least important thing she could do at the time. Figuring out how to survive had been her focus.
“Well, things have changed. What was his name again?”
“Dr. Sperry, and he got married this past summer.” He’d even invited her to the wedding along with half of her staff. She’d declined but sent a gift.
“Oh.”
“Besides, I don’t want to date another doctor. My schedule is hectic as it is.”
Sherri put down her phone, then smiled. “I gave Mateo your number, so don’t be surprised if you hear from him.”
Her stomach clenched, and she put her half-eaten slice of pizza back on the paper plate. “You really shouldn’t have done that.”
“Well, are you serious about doing the things on your list or are you only interested in talking about doing those things?” Page leaned forward and touched her knee. “You’ve been given a second chance at life, April. Are you going to sit and let it pass you by or are you going to reach out and grab the opportunity?”
She’d already let too many things go, rather than pursue them. Men she might have dated and fallen in love with. Jobs that she might have excelled at. Opportunities that never came around again. Enough was enough—she needed to do this. Standing, she declared, “I’m going for it.”
CHAPTER TWO (#u80d9f3d1-361a-5f14-84f1-dba24c3f0610)
APRIL STUDIED HERSELF in the full-length mirror and put a hand to her chest. After her reconstruction surgery, the doctor had put an implant in her unaffected right breast in order to make both match in size. She now had more cleavage than she’d had before her cancer diagnosis. The coral dress she’d chosen to wear had a scoop neckline that dipped down more than she would have liked. Afraid her scars would show, she found a floral scarf and looped that around her neck and tucked it into the collar to give her some coverage.
The doorbell rang, and she took one last glance at herself in the bedroom mirror. She’d changed because of cancer, but then she’d had to. Tonight was for taking back her life. And who knew what the future held.
She opened the front door and whistled at Mateo, who stood on the porch in an emerald green silk shirt and black pants. He looked like he was ready to dance. He gave a lopsided grin. “You look pretty good yourself.”
She adjusted the scarf. “Did you want to come in for a moment?”
He gave a nod before ducking inside. She took a deep breath before shutting the door and turning to face him. No dating for over two and a half years—long before cancer had dominated her thoughts and days—she put her nervousness down to that. It’s not like this was a blind date with a stranger. She knew she could trust Sherri’s cousin. Knew she could relax and have fun.
He glanced around the room, then his chocolate-brown eyes were back to her. “This is a nice place. Cozy.”
“It is small, but it’s close to the hospital. Since I spend most of my life there, it made sense to move into this neighborhood. I could even walk there if I had to. But late at night in this neighborhood, it’s not the best idea.” She bit her lip to keep from babbling.
Mateo nodded and let out a breath. “Sherri told me that she met you at the ER.”
“She told me that you’re a great lawyer.”
He cast his eyes down and gave a shrug. “I don’t know about great.” He raised his head to look at her. “Are you as nervous as I am?”
April laughed and put a hand to her belly. “Does it show?”
He took a step toward her. “Let’s just agree that tonight is about becoming friends and going out to have a good time.”
He was already playing the friend card? But she agreed. Not that she didn’t appreciate his trying to defuse the tension. “Do you want to head out?”
He helped her shrug into her coat, then he opened the door, letting her leave the house first. Just like a gentleman. He waited on the second step of the porch while she locked the door and put the keys into her rose-gold clutch. He even held her elbow as they walked down the sidewalk to his car. He opened the passenger door for her and waited until she had folded her legs inside and secured her seat belt before he shut the door and ran around to the driver’s side. He started the car, and silence fell between them as they drove to the club. After a few minutes, Mateo spoke. “My cousin mentioned you wanted to try salsa dancing. Why salsa?”
It was one of the things on her list, something she’d added after watching a reality show about dancing. “Because salsa dancers look like they’re enjoying the life they’ve been given. Sherri told me that you were an expert.”
He laughed at this. “If by expert she means that I’ve been dancing since I was eight, then yes, I guess I am.”
“Any tips?”
“Let the music guide you and follow my lead.”
It sounded easy enough. When they arrived at the club, Mateo took her elbow as they stepped inside and searched for a table. The beat of the music made April’s feet twitch, wanting to go out on the dance floor before she had learned any of the moves. She reminded herself that learning to salsa dance would take more than a good song playing on the sound system. She took off her jacket and handed it to Mateo, who left to check their coats and order some drinks.
Shortly after, Mateo approached their table with two drinks in his hands, a beer for him and a margarita for her. He handed her the bright pink drink, then glanced at the empty dance floor before sitting down. “When do they start the dancing?”
She took a sip and shrugged. “The website said nine.” She glanced at her watch. It was about a quarter past. “Maybe they’re running late?”
“Or maybe they’re waiting for someone to get things started.” He smiled at her. “Want to give it a try?” She took a gulp of her raspberry margarita and jumped up. Mateo took her hand as they walked to the dance floor.
“Start on your left foot,” he said and slipped his left hand in hers and his right on her back. He took a step forward as he nudged her backward. She took a step back with her left foot, then a step with her right and brought her left in line. Then he drew her forward a step. Her ankle wobbled on the heel of her shoe, and he gripped her tighter to keep her steady, and they stopped in place. “That’s the basic step. You’ll do fine.”
April gave a nod and stared at her feet. She remembered taking ballet when she was six, but had only lasted a year before she found that she preferred different pursuits like performing experiments in the science lab or reading about the life cycle of the earthworm. She’d left sports and physical activities to her brother, Tony, until now. Feel the beat, she chanted to herself. Follow Mateo’s lead. Stop thinking and just feel.
Mateo’s gaze searched her eyes. “Ready to start again?”
“You bet.” He nudged her backward again. This time, she stayed steady on her feet, switched off her brain for a few seconds while she followed his moves. Mateo grinned. “Now, I’m going to spin you. Ready?”
He held their hands up high, and she spun around under them. When she turned back to face him, she laughed. “I’m dancing.”
He returned her smile. “Yes, you are.” He tightened his grip on her hand. “Okay, now let’s try a different step.”
They started as they had before. Back, forward, then he put his arm around her shoulders and they danced side by side rather than facing each other. He spun her into their original position and started the sequence again. April whipped her head back on one of the turns and lost her footing again. Mateo caught her before she could hit the floor. “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. You’re doing really well for your first time salsa dancing.”
The song ended, and they headed to their table. April sipped her margarita and watched as other dancers filled the dance floor. The way they moved effortlessly and in sync amazed her. Even if she took dance lessons for six months, she doubted she could move as easily as the women dancing. She might dance better than tonight, but she’d still struggle with turning off her brain and letting her body take over.
She found Mateo watching her. “You look lost in thought,” he said.
Story of her life. “Sherri said you’re helping her and Dez finalize Marcus’s adoption.” The couple had planned on being his foster parents, but had recently taken steps to legally make him a part of their new family. “She’s so happy.”
“She deserves to be after all that she’s going through.” He watched her over the top of his beer glass. “And how are you feeling?”
Sherri had told him about her cancer? “Real good.” She sipped her drink, then motioned with her head to the dance floor. “Want to give it another try?”
“Okay, okay.” He drained his beer, put his arm around her waist and led her to the dance floor.
After three songs, April’s heart pounded, and a fine sweat had formed along her hairline. She let go of Mateo’s hand and fanned herself as the song changed to something slower. He raised an eyebrow at her. While she longed to sit, her body had something different in mind and she took his outstretched hand in hers.
They danced, their bodies close. Touching, then he nudged her away and spun her around and brought her close to him again. It felt like a tug-of-war between the two of them, but one that Mateo controlled the entire song. The intimacy of the dance should have made her feel a stirring of emotion for the man holding her close, but she felt nothing. Friendship sure, but not that pull of attraction. At the end of the song, she returned to the table. Mateo left her to get glasses of water. She ran her hands through her curls in an attempt to cool herself. A guy in a suit stopped beside her. “Dr. Sprader, you looked good out there.”
She looked up and recognized that sports agent. “Mr. Harrison. I’m surprised to see you here.”
* * *
ZACH HAD BEEN surprised to see April on the dance floor, and with a boyfriend, no less. He tried to ignore the hollow feeling in his chest at that thought and pointed at a corner where a hot new talent on the baseball circuit sat with his girlfriend. “I brought a potential client tonight.”
She glanced in the direction he’d indicated and frowned. “You dumped Antonio already?”
“I have more than one client. Just like you see more than one patient.” He tried not to let her comment hit him hard, but it was too late. He got tired of being accused of having divided loyalties when he had to work for more than one client at a time. He needed to provide for his family, after all. And that didn’t come cheap. He looked toward the bar where her date had disappeared. “You and your boyfriend dance really well together.”
“He’s not my boyfriend.” She fidgeted with her purse, snapping it open and shut. “Not that it’s any of your business, but it’s our first date.”
“Really? Based on how you were dancing, I’d figured you knew each other pretty well.” He’d been impressed by how at ease she seemed after a few songs. They’d moved so naturally together that he assumed they were a couple.
A fast-tempo song started, and she stared out at the dance floor with a look on her face that made him wish he knew how to salsa. He wondered what it would be like to hold her in his arms and turn her around the room. Not that he had time for such frivolities as dancing. He needed to focus on his business.
Someone appeared next to him, and he turned to find her date standing there with two glasses of ice water. He handed her one, put the other on the table and offered his hand to Zach. “Thanks for keeping her company. You a friend of April’s?”
She scoffed at this, and he shook his head. “No. She took care of one of my clients.” He accepted the date’s hand. “You’re a great dancer.”
The guy gave a cockeyed grin. “My mother taught me when I was young.”
“And he’s a wonderful teacher, too.” April put a hand on the date’s arm and peered at Zach. “You don’t want to leave your client alone too long.”
Dismissed so quickly. Zach smiled. “You’re right. I’m here for work, not for pleasure.” He glanced at her again. “Good to see you, Dr. Sprader.”
“Thank you, Mr. Harrison.” She took a sip of her water. “Want to go back out there for the next dance?”
The date looked between them and gave a slow nod. “Sure. Whatever you want.”
Zach shook the date’s hand again and walked to the corner table. He took a seat next to his client, Chris Ramos. “Did you two discuss my proposal?”
Ramos put an arm across his girlfriend’s shoulders. “Mr. Harrison, you’ve given us a lot to think about, but I’d like to get to know you a little more before I sign my life over to you.”
“I can guarantee you that my terms are more than fair.”
Ramos held up a hand. “Why don’t we enjoy the music and dancing? There will be time for negotiating later.”
Problem was Zach didn’t know how to enjoy much beyond working and closing the deal. Just ask his ex-wife. “Of course.”
The song changed and Ramos leaned over to his girlfriend to whisper in her ear. She nodded, and they left the table to join the dancers on the floor. Zach searched the crowd and found Dr. Sprader with her date. She looked fantastic in that soft orange dress and her dark blond hair wildly curling around her face. Her expression seemed to be lit up with joy as she turned in the guy’s arms and swayed to the beat of the music.
He wondered what it would take to find a woman like her. And if he did find someone, if she would be interested in him.
He grimaced. He’d proved that he wasn’t made for relationships. He’d failed miserably as a husband. He could provide financially, but not when it came to love and affection. He’d forgotten birthdays and special events. He missed anniversaries and holidays. Unless, of course, it was for a client. Those he remembered.
Dr. Sprader glanced in his direction and he looked away, self-conscious to be caught watching her on the dance floor. A waitress stopped by the table, and he welcomed the distraction to order another round of drinks. Ramos and his girlfriend returned to the table after a few songs. Chris gulped his beer and patted Zach on the back. “Man, this place is sick. How did you find out about it?”
“Came as a recommendation from a friend.” Okay, so it was another client, but he didn’t have many friends. He noticed that Dr. Sprader seemed to be leaving, her jacket over one arm and the other around her date.
Ramos followed his gaze and gave a small smile. “She a friend of yours?”
“No. We just met.”
“For someone you don’t know, you seem to watch her quite a bit.” Ramos looked over at his girlfriend, who smirked and nodded. “She someone you want to get to know better?”
Zach turned his attention back to Ramos. The last thing he needed was to lose a client because his focus was elsewhere. “My life doesn’t have much room for making new friends right now. I’m dedicated to my clients and their needs. I work tirelessly to get the best contracts and to make sure their lives are exactly what they want.”
Ramos nudged him. “I get it. You’d work just as hard for me if I sign with you.”
“So what is it that’s keeping you from doing that?” Zach asked. He’d been wining and dining this guy for three months without a commitment. “What is it that you need? Tell me and I’ll make it happen to get you on my roster.”
Ramos and his girlfriend exchanged glances. He leaned in close to Zach. “We need to get married. And quick. You make that happen, and I’ll be happy to join you.”
Zach wanted to groan. Couldn’t he have asked for something easy like playing for the number one team in the league at a cool six million a season? But he smiled and nodded. “Then you’d better be ready to walk down that aisle.”
* * *
MATEO PARKED HIS car in front of her house and cut the engine. She peered through the window to concentrate on the porch light. Was Mateo expecting to come in? Would he kiss her or push for more? And did she want him to?
She licked her lips and shifted to face him. He kept his gaze straight ahead, focused on something in the dark. “Thanks for a fun evening, Mateo. I really enjoyed it.”
He turned and smiled at her. “I did, too. More than I expected to.” He winced. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. You’re nice, I mean, and very attractive. But...”
“But.” She returned his smile. “It’s okay. I liked our time together, but I don’t feel that spark for you either. We’d be better off as friends.”
“Right. Friends.” Mateo let out a sigh. “I did notice some sparks between you and that guy who stopped at our table.”
“Mr. Harrison? No, you’re wrong. I’ve only seen him twice, and there’s nothing there. Nothing. Not a thought or idea. Not a thing.”
He stared at her with a faint smile on his face. “Are you sure about that? You seem a little too adamant.”
“I protest too much, in other words?” She gave a shrug. “There’s something about him that really bugs me. I can’t describe it.”
She could tell Mateo wasn’t convinced. Not that it should matter if he was. Mr. Harrison wasn’t her type. She didn’t want to get involved with a workaholic who spent his life on his cell phone, rather than paying attention to the world around him. She knew too well what that was like. And she didn’t intend to go down that path again.
She gripped the door handle. “Thank you again for a lovely evening.”
“My pleasure.”
He started to open his door, but she put out a hand to stop him. “You don’t need to walk me to the door. I’ll be fine.”
“I may not be interested in you romantically, but I haven’t forgotten my manners.”
She got out of the car and waited for him to join her on the sidewalk. At the house, Mateo stood on the bottom step as she unlocked the front door. When it opened, she turned and looked down at him. “Maybe I’ll see you around.”
“Good luck on your second-chance list.”
“Sherri told you?”
He nodded. “I think it’s great that you’re trying to get back into life after your brush with cancer.”
“It was more than a brush.”
He frowned. “You know my mother died from breast cancer? It was horrible to watch the life drain away from her daily.” His expression softened. “So the fact that you’re grabbing life with both hands is something to be proud of. Best of luck with the rest of your list.”
She stepped inside her house and watched him as he turned on his heel, got back into his car and left. She shut the door and locked it before placing her clutch on the table along with her keys. Leaning on the door for a moment, she retrieved her cell phone from the purse and texted Page. Salsa dancing fun. No sparks with Mateo.
A few seconds later, her cell phone rang. “What do you mean there were no sparks? The man is soooo hot, so smart—”
“We had a good time, but there was no chemistry between us.” April plopped onto the sofa and kept the phone wedged between her ear and shoulder as she took off one shoe, then the other. “Besides, the cancer thing puts him off a little.”
Silence on the other end. Then Page cleared her throat. “Did he actually say that?”
“No, he mentioned his mom died from it and how hard that was to watch.” She massaged one foot and eased into the sofa. “It’s fine. We’ll just be friends. No big deal.”
“So what’s next on your list?”
She plucked her journal from the coffee table and opened it. “I saw an ad in the staff lounge about Italian cooking classes being offered nearby. You know I’ve always wanted to learn to cook, so why not pasta?”
“I don’t think even you could burn water.”
“Want to take the class with me?”
More silence, then a huff of resignation. “Fine. Let me know when and where.”
* * *
ZACH BAGGED MRS. ZERELLI’S groceries as his grandmother rang up the purchases. “You’ve grown into a fine young man, Zachary.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Zerelli.” He tucked one paper bag under his arm and hoisted the second. “Why don’t I walk these out to the car for you?”
She patted his cheeks as his grandmother beamed at him. “Such a good boy.”
He escorted Mrs. Zerelli to her car and waited for her to unlock the trunk before placing her bags of groceries inside and slamming it shut. He waved away the dollar she tried to press into his hand. “It’s all part of the Rossi service, Mrs. Zerelli.”
Again, the woman patted his cheeks. “Francisco and Angelina are lucky to have you.”
He swallowed the guilt that gnawed at him since he hadn’t been with his grandparents much the last few weeks. But he smiled and opened the car door for Mrs. Zerelli, then closed it once she was inside. He waved as she backed out of the parking spot and left the lot.
Behind the register, Nonna was ringing the next customer’s purchases. For a snowy Saturday in late February, his grandparents’ market seemed to be bustling with business. Zach had planned on stopping in to get a recommendation for a caterer for the Ramos wedding, but seeing the lines and Nonna’s stooped figure behind the register changed it. When he’d been a kid, he’d helped out plenty of afternoons and weekends.
He returned to Nonna’s side and started to bag the groceries. She turned to him. “I’m surprised to see you. I thought you were at your office.”
“It’s Saturday.”
Nonna gave him a look, and he flushed. Okay, so he’d been working a lot lately, but his mother depended on him. “Actually, I was hoping to get some ideas from you for a client of mine. Well, a potential client.”
“I don’t know anything about sports. You should talk to Pops about that. He’s looking after the meat counter today.” She told the customer the total cost of her purchases as he finished putting the items in the bags. “Have a great day, and we’ll see you on your next visit.”
The customer left, and Nonna started to ring up the next person’s groceries. Zach leaned in to whisper in her ear. “This isn’t about sports. It’s about throwing a wedding.”
Nonna paused from her work and stared at him. “I didn’t even know you were dating.”
He jerked up his hands like a criminal caught red-handed. “I’m not. Like I said, it’s for a client. I need to throw him a quick wedding, and I know nothing about how to do it. The ceremony, the reception, caterers, music, Marissa took care of all of that before.”
Nonna called over to one of her staff and had him take over the register. She put her arm through Zach’s and pulled him into the office. She took a seat behind the desk, opened one of the drawers and brought out a large white binder. “These are all my neighborhood contacts. Flowers. Food. Music. A hall. Whatever you need.”
Zach accepted the book and kissed her cheek. “You’re the best.”
She laughed and stood. “Now, out of my way. We’re busy.”
He glanced around the market. “I could give you a hand for a little bit.”
“Trying to worm your way into a dinner invitation?”
He gave a shrug. “I haven’t had your cooking in a long time. I think I’m overdue.”
She paused. “And your mother?”
He didn’t know what shape she’d be in, but he could check on her and bring her with him if it was a good day. “We’ll see.”
“She’s my daughter, and I haven’t seen her in weeks.”
Zach understood that, but his first concern was his mother’s health. “Dinner at seven?”
This time, she kissed his cheek loudly. “You are a good boy.”
He didn’t know about that, but he tried. As he was leaving, he almost ran down a woman in a pastel pink jacket with matching hat and scarf. She tried to peer around him into the office. “Sorry, miss. Do you need something?”
She took off her hat, and he noticed that it was Dr. Sprader. Her jaw dropped at his presence, then she pursed her lips. “I was looking for Mrs. Rossi. I wanted to sign up for her cooking classes.”
“It’s you.” He shook his head, knowing that didn’t come out right. “My grandmother’s right here.” He turned to Nonna. “You still teach those?”
She shrugged and motioned for the doctor to come into the office. “I like to pass along my knowledge, so why not? Our next class is next Tuesday. Zach, it wouldn’t hurt you to brush up on your cooking skills.”
Dr. Sprader seemed a bit stunned. “Your grandmother?”
Nonna looked between him and the doctor. “You two know each other?”
“We keep bumping into each other.” The doc bristled at that and turned her back to him. “I was hoping to sign up my friend and me. But I have to admit, we’re both novices at cooking.”
“I teach all skill levels. And if you’re a beginner, all the better. You won’t come into my class with awful habits. I can mold you.” Nonna brought out a calendar. “And your names?”
“April Sprader and Page Kosinski.”
Zach looked at her. She looked like an April. A woman with a spring attitude. Shaking off the dull grays of winter and embracing a rebirth. He gave himself a mental slap in the head. Where was he coming up with this stuff? “April.” She faced him, and he realized he’d said her name out loud. “First dancing, now cooking. What are you trying to do? Mark off items on your bucket list?”
“As a matter of fact, yes, I am.” She got out her wallet and handed Nonna a few twenties. “I look forward to our first class.” She ignored him as she passed by him.
Nonna slid the money in an envelope and wrote the names on the front of it before securing it in one of the desk drawers. “You sure you don’t want to come to one of my classes?”
“I don’t have time to cook, Nonna.”
“I figured you might want to join so it would give you an excuse to be around that woman.”
He pointed in the direction April had left. “Dr. Sprader? I don’t think so.”
Nonna eyed him, but he didn’t fidget or look away. “Something wrong with her?”
“Where do you want me to start?” He chuckled. “First off, she doesn’t like me. Not that I’m all that fond of her.”
“She seemed perfectly sweet to me.”
He gave a shrug and clutched the book firmly. “Maybe, but I’ve got more important things to pursue. Thanks again for your contacts, Nonna.”
“Class is Tuesday night at eight in case you change your mind.”
But he wouldn’t. He had a wedding to plan, a mother to care for, and clients who depended on him for their careers. The last thing he needed was a distraction of the female variety.
CHAPTER THREE (#u80d9f3d1-361a-5f14-84f1-dba24c3f0610)
ZACH STARED OUT the window of his office, not paying attention to his cell phone. It buzzed with multiple text messages. He’d spent most of his weekend nailing down details for the Ramos wedding. He’d already downloaded the application for a marriage license and found a priest who would perform the ceremony at the banquet hall where Nonna knew the chef and had given him a discount since the happy couple would be married on a Sunday night. There were other details to take care of, but he’d made a sizable dent.
He pushed his wandering thoughts aside and picked up the phone. The first message was from Johnson, asking if he had heard anything yet about the offer from the Lions. Ramos wanted to know if they could fly out his parents from Puerto Rico in time for the wedding. And Coach Petrullo needed an update on Johnson’s health. He answered them all. He’d make it work. Because that’s what he did: took on the impossible and it happened.
His phone buzzed with a new text message. Bad day. Can you come home early?
He checked the time. Not even noon, and the day nurse wanted him to leave already? He replied that he’d stop by at lunchtime. He could kill two birds with that stone: get something to eat and check up on his mom. Then he’d drive out to the practice fields and talk to both Johnson and the coach. Life was all about multitasking.
He glanced out the window again, the gray February skies muddying his mood, turning it cold and dark. Images of Dr. Sprader crossed his mind, bringing a ray of sunshine to dissipate his gloomy state. Sure, she had appeared as if she were angry at him, but when he watched her with her patients, she had radiated something akin to kindness and compassion. A sort of contentment or...peace.
He straightened his tie and stood up. He didn’t have time to think about what he didn’t have. Better to focus on what he did.
He grabbed his wool trench coat from the hook behind his office door and stopped by his assistant’s desk. “I’ll be taking an early lunch today and stopping by practice to check on Antonio. Any messages before I leave?”
Dalvin huffed. “I keep this place a well-oiled machine. Nothing happens without you knowing.”
Zach clapped Dalvin on the shoulder. “You’ve got my number in case anything does come up.”
Dalvin pointed at his computer screen. “What do you think of these as wedding favors?”
Zach bent forward, scrunched his face. “We have to have favors, too?”
Dalvin shrugged. “I read about them on Pinterest.” His assistant pulled several sheets and fanned through them. “These are all the wedding details that still need planning.”
“That’s why I have you.” He sighed at the papers. “We’ll review them when I return.” He glanced at his watch. “Hopefully before four.”
“You got it, boss.”
Zach took the elevator to the parking garage below the building and walked to his sleek, black luxury SUV. Being an agent meant keeping up appearances, so he spent more than he should to project a successful image. He hit the key fob and unlocked the door before sliding into the leather seat and starting the powerful engine.
The drive from his office to his mother’s house took about a half hour on a good day, but the recent snow had left the roads slushy, slowing drivers. He arrived at the house he’d grown up in and parked behind the day nurse’s car. He took a deep breath before trudging up the snow-covered driveway to the back door. He unlocked it and jogged up a few steps into the kitchen. He turned right and found Dolores sitting at the dining room table, her head in her hands. She looked up at him when he called her name.
“Thank goodness you’re here. She’s been asking for you.”
He raised an eyebrow at this and took his coat off, hanging it on the back of one of the four chairs. “She remembers me today? That’s new.”
“Well, she’s been calling for your father, but she means you.” Dolores stood and pulled the edges of her pink cardigan closer together. “When I tried to explain that you’re at work, she threw her cereal bowl at me.”
He noted the dried milk spots on the cardigan. “You’re a saint for putting up with all of this.”
“And here I was thinking the same thing about you.”
A shriek from the back bedroom caught his attention. He walked down the short hallway to his mother’s room and opened the door. “Mother, I’m here.”
Her blank eyes lacked focus as he stood in the doorway watching her. “I knew you’d come home,” she said.
He stepped over clothes she’d probably thrown in a fit of temper and took a seat in the recliner next to her bed. “I always come home.”
“Because you’re a good man, Robert.” She reached out and touched his cheek.
“I’m Zach. Your son.” The doctor had said it was good to remind her of the reality despite her stubborn hold on the past. “Dad died when I was ten.”
She blinked. “Zach.” Her eyes searched his. “Zach should be home from school soon. Such a well-behaved boy. Smart. Just like his father.”
She put a hand on his, and he patted it before rising from the chair. “I’m just going to grab some lunch and then I have to go back to work, okay? But you be good for Dolores. She takes excellent care of you.”
“I want you to stay.” His mother pouted like a three-year-old who couldn’t get her own way. “You promised you’d take me for a picnic.”
“It’s the end of February, Mom. We have to wait for the warmer weather.” He noted the time and got a bottle of pills from the top of the dresser. Shaking out two pills into his hand, he said, “It’s time for your medicine. This will help you feel better.”
She took the pills like an obedient child, then fixed her gaze on the window. When she faced him again, he could tell he’d lost her once more. Her eyes looked at him, blank and confused. “I’m so tired.”
He helped her lie back on the bed and covered her with the quilt Nonna had made. “I know.” He kissed her forehead. “Why don’t you take a nap? You always feel better after.”
She snuggled into the covers and closed her eyes. “Wake me when Robert gets home.”
“I will, Mother.” He watched her for a moment, then left the room, quietly shutting the door behind him. He paused before continuing down the hallway. “She’s taken her meds, Dolores, so she’ll sleep for you.” He shrugged into his coat. “Text me if you need anything.”
“You can always calm her down. That’s a gift.”
He gave a nod, wishing he had the gift of restoring his mother’s memory. That would have much more worth. From his car, he stared up at the house. He’d had to move in last year when his mother’s condition had worsened. No longer able to care for her from a distance, he’d given up his apartment and most of his personal life to be the dutiful son.
And most days, he didn’t regret it.
* * *
IN THE LARGE commercial kitchen, Page and April took their places at a stainless steel table where cooking utensils and fresh ingredients waited to be transformed into something edible. April wrinkled her nose as she picked up the recipe card. “Homemade pasta? Maybe we’re not ready for this class.”
“I got the night off to come here, so we’re not chickening out.” Page glanced around the kitchen as more students started to filter in. “Besides, I want to make this pasta so we can eat it. I’m starving.”
“I told you to eat something before we came.”
Page brushed off the suggestion. “I was feeling nauseous at the time, but I’m fine now.”
April frowned at her friend. She’d been complaining more often about feeling sick lately. Considering it was Page, this wasn’t unusual. The fact that she tried to downplay it was a concern, however. “Have you seen your oncologist lately?”
“Stop worrying about me. We’re here to mark another item off your list.”
Mrs. Rossi entered the kitchen, and the din of conversations among the students died down. She smiled at each of them. “I’m glad to see so many new faces mixed among my seasoned students. If you saw the recipe cards, you’ll know we’re making pasta tonight. It’s an ambitious task for the first class, but you’ll find that fresh pasta will make a big difference to your cooking.” She picked up an apron and held it up in front of the students. “You’ll find aprons below the table for your use, unless you’d rather go home sprinkled in flour.”
April squatted down and found a stack of white aprons on the shelf. She grabbed two and handed one to Page. “You might want to get one more.”
When April straightened, she found Mr. Harrison standing next to her. “You’re taking the class?”
“My nonna thinks it will help me.” He leaned down, got an apron and put it on over his head, covering the shirt and tie he wore. He wrapped the apron strings around him once and tied them together in the front. He looked natural with it on, and she found herself staring at him, her own apron still in her hand. He took it from her and slipped it on her, looking into her eyes as he secured the ties in front. “There. Now you look like a cook.”
“Mr. Harrison—”
“It’s Zach. And you’re April.”
Page waved her hand between them. “And I’m Page. You’re the sports agent April has been talking about?”
April instantly glared at her. She hadn’t been talking about him. Okay, so she’d mentioned him once or twice. And maybe she’d thought about him more than she should, but it wasn’t like she was obsessed with him. “I told her how you subdued Harley in the ER.”
“And how she saw you when she went dancing. And again when she signed up for this class.” Page shrugged as April stared at her openmouthed. “What? Like it’s any big secret?”
April gestured to Zach. “She makes it sound worse than it is. You’ll find she’s very good at that.”
Mrs. Rossi came around and dropped a sifter on their table before tapping Zach’s cheek. “I’d hoped you would come.” She glanced at April. “But then I see you found a purpose to be here.”
He glanced at April, then at his grandmother. “Thanks for that, Nonna.”
Conversation stopped as they sifted together the all-purpose flour, semolina flour and salt into a large pile in front of the three of them. Zach used a fork to create a deep well in the center of the combined flours, and Page cracked open and added the eggs. Zach handed April the fork, and she started to mix the eggs together while Page put the olive oil into the mixture. When it came time to knead the dough, Zach rolled up his shirtsleeves and did it like an expert. “My nonna had me knead a lot of dough as a kid. I’ve got this part down pat.”
April watched the muscles of his arms as he pushed the dough away, then pulled it toward him, mixing it and forming it into a ball. She admired how his fingers deftly massaged the dough. Why was she thinking about his hands and arms? She didn’t need Mr. Harrison...Zach to become a distraction for her. She was making her life better, and learning to cook was only the beginning.
Zach wrapped the dough in clear plastic wrap so that it could rest for a half hour. Attention returned to Mrs. Rossi as she explained how to prepare a basic pesto sauce. When she called for volunteers, April glanced around the kitchen rather than making eye contact. There was no way she was going to go up to the front of the class and show how inept she was at this. “Why don’t we have April and Zach demonstrate what I’m talking about?”
Rats. Page sniggered behind one hand, and she gave her friend a look. Page shrugged and nudged her toward the front of the kitchen. April followed Zach to where two mortars and pestles sat on the kitchen counter alongside some ingredients: a leafy herb, bulbs of garlic and some kind of seed or nut. Mrs. Rossi had Zach peel and press the garlic while she roughly chopped the herb that turned out to be basil. “You don’t want to shred it. Just chop it into smaller bunches to fit into the mortar and discard the stems.”
Once they were done with that, Mrs. Rossi added some garlic and basil into each mortar, then had Zach and April pound the ingredients with the pestle. Mrs. Rossi tossed pine nuts into their mixture and had them keep pounding. Mrs. Rossi took the pestle from April and showed her a better technique to mix the ingredients into a paste. She wasn’t surprised the older woman had such developed arms with the workout she was getting.
After the pounding, they spooned the paste into a bowl and included shredded Parmesan and olive oil to make a sauce. April leaned closer to the bowl and took an appreciative sniff. It smelled green and clean. Her tummy growled at the thought.
Mrs. Rossi dismissed April and Zach and demonstrated how to roll out the pasta dough and cut it into shapes. Page nudged April. “You looked good up there.”
“Like I knew what I was doing?”
“Well, no. But you didn’t completely embarrass yourself.”
Page dusted the table with semolina flour and unwrapped the ball of dough. She placed it on the table, and April picked up the rolling pin. She moved the pin back and forth, frowning as the dough stuck to the pin. “What am I doing wrong?”
Zach put a hand on hers to stop her from tearing the dough. She almost dropped the rolling pin from the heat of his touch. “You want to move in several directions, not just back and forth. Let me show you.” He put his hands on hers and directed them forward right, then backward left. Forward. Backward right. Diagonals and straight lines. The dough thinned and became smooth, stretching out in front of them in an oval. He sprinkled some semolina on the rolling pin, and together they stretched the dough out even farther.
Nonna stopped at their table and smiled. “This looks great. What pasta shape do you want to make?”
“Ravioli,” Zach said. She patted his cheek and moved on to the next group. When Page and April looked at him, he shrugged. “I used to make them with her. It’s one of my favorite memories.” He handed April a knife. “You’ll want to cut the pasta in squares of equal size.”
She looked at the beautiful yellow dough in front of them. It was almost too pretty to cut into anything, but she carefully placed the knife on one edge and drew it down to the other. Once they had the dough cut into neat squares, Zach retrieved ricotta and Romano cheeses, eggs and parsley. He gave the parsley to Page to chop while April shredded the Romano cheese. He measured the ingredients into a silver mixing bowl, then showed them how to put a tablespoon of the cheese mixture in the middle of one square then place a second over it, pinching the edges to seal it up tight.
April stared at him. “I thought you couldn’t cook?”
He leaned over one ravioli, pinching the edges. “Despite what my nonna believes, I do know how. I just don’t have the time to do it.” He placed the ravioli on the overflowing plate, then looked up at her. “Can you cook?”
She shook her head. “I can microwave frozen meals and chop vegetables for a salad. I also pour a mean bowl of cereal.”
He grinned and brushed the tip of her nose. “You had a little flour there.”
She reached up to where he’d touched her. “Is it gone?”
Page cleared her throat. “You’re fine. So, Chef Boyardee, what do we do next?”
* * *
ZACH REALIZED HE’D been gazing into April’s baby blue eyes for far too long. He glanced at her friend and gave a nod. “Right. Next step. We’ll boil the ravioli for about six or seven minutes. Then we drain them and toss in the pesto.”
“Sounds easy enough.” Page took the plate up to the stoves where students had gathered to place their homemade pastas into the pots of boiling water.
With her friend gone, Zach looked over at April. She wore a soft sweater in a shade of blue that complemented her fair skin and eyes. It looked as if she’d be soft to the touch. Soft, vulnerable. What was he doing? He shouldn’t be thinking about touching her. Yet, she seemed so approachable here in class. And that made her all the more appealing.
April started to gather the dirty dishes and utensils. He followed her to the sink, where he helped rinse them and place them in the dishwasher. They didn’t say a word, but worked well as a team, then returned to their table. Nonna had left them clean plates and forks as well as a small mortar of pesto to try with their ravioli. “Your grandmother is amazing. I didn’t know people could cook like this.”
“This is nothing. You should see her at the holidays.”
He rested against the table and watched her. It must have made her uncomfortable because she sighed. “Do I have something else on my face?”
He shook his head. “No, no, you look beautiful, actually.”
“What? Why are you saying that to me?”
“Because it’s true?” He gave a shrug. “You seem different tonight.”
She met his eyes and gave a short nod. “So do you. Less pushy and kinder.” She looked over to where her friend Page waited for their pasta at the stoves. “Why did you come tonight?”
Nothing like being direct. He took a step closer to her. “Here’s the thing. I’ve tried not to think about you. I’ve pushed you out of my thoughts so many times, but it’s impossible. Therefore, I give up. I came here tonight because I wanted to be near you. To spend time with you and see if this other idea I had is my worst one yet.”
She came up to him and stood toe to toe. “And what other idea would that be?”
“Would you like to go out for dinner sometime?” There. He’d asked her. Maybe it wasn’t as eloquent as he’d hoped it would be, but it was out there now. And it was up to her to accept. Or reject, but he wasn’t going to think about that.
“Why?”
Okay, so that wasn’t the response he’d hoped for. “Why not? Isn’t there something on that second-chance list we could cross off together?”
The friend returned to the table with their cooked ravioli. She thrust the ceramic bowl into Zach’s hands, looked at him, paused, then she looked at April. “What did I miss?”
April shook her head. “Nothing. The pasta looks fantastic.”
Zach spooned pesto on top of the ravioli, then flipped the bowl to toss them in the sauce. He spooned several ravioli on a plate and handed it to April with a fork. He did the same for Page, then he served himself. He watched April cut into a square, then place it on the fork and bring it to her mouth. She opened her lips and took a bite of it. He looked away only to find Page watching them as she chewed.
“Not bad.” Page dug into the rest of her pasta.
April wiped the corners of her mouth with a napkin and exhaled. “It’s magnificent. And to think we made that from scratch.”
He leaned in closer and dropped his voice so that only she could hear him. “We make a good team. Just think of what else we could do together.”
April jerked back, crushing one of her friend’s toes. She apologized, then put her half-eaten plate of pasta down. “I need to... I’ll be right back.”
Page frowned at him. “What are your intentions, exactly?”
He wasn’t sure how much to tell Page. If April didn’t want her friend to know what they’d discussed, then it would be better for him to stay silent. He shrugged. “Trying to get to know her better.” He quickly added, “And you, too.”
“Mmm-hmm.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Something tells me that she’s the one you really want to know.” She placed her empty plate on the table and came up close to him. “If you’re playing games, she’s not interested. She’s been through too much to let a guy mess with her head. And if you hurt her, you’ll deal with me.”
“I don’t plan on hurting anyone.”
Page scowled at him, then looked in the direction April had just headed for. He all but dropped his plate of ravioli on the table, no longer hungry. He held up his hands. “Fine. I’ll go talk to her.”
He paused long enough to grab his wool trench coat before leaving the kitchen and walking to the parking lot. April paced, her arms across her body, shivering in the cold. He took several long strides to reach her, then removed his coat and slid it over her shoulders. “It’s cold out here. You need a jacket.”
She pulled the lapels of the coat closer around her. “Thanks. I wasn’t thinking.”
“What were you doing?”
She looked up at him and sighed. “Why did you ask me out?”
“I told you. I can’t stop thinking about you. I figured it would be better to get to know you so I can have that time back to concentrate on my job.” He noticed the snowflakes that had frosted her curly hair. He longed to reach up and brush them away. Instead, he crossed his arms over his chest and hunched his shoulders together. “Could we talk about this inside where it’s warmer?”
April frowned at him for a few moments, then shook her head. “No, thank you.”
“You won’t talk to me inside?”
“No, I can’t go out with you. I don’t really like you, Mr. Harrison.” She offered a polite smile, turned on her heel and presumably headed for the kitchen.
He had no choice but to follow, his curiosity piqued. He was a likable guy, right?
CHAPTER FOUR (#u80d9f3d1-361a-5f14-84f1-dba24c3f0610)
FIVE WOMEN SHOWED up for the weekly breast cancer support group meeting at the Hope Center. April glanced at the other four women, one of them Lynn, the facilitator. “Where is Stephanie?” she asked as she took a seat in the circle.
Lynn winced as the other three women looked down at the ground. “She died over the weekend.”
“Oh.” Stephanie had been diagnosed with stage four breast cancer the same time that April had found the lump. She realized she’d been comparing the two of them at each stage of the disease, even though Stephanie’s cancer had been more advanced. “But she seemed to be doing so well.”
“Complications from pneumonia, they said.”
Page entered the center and took a seat next to April, glancing at the somber faces surrounding her. “Who died?”
“Stephanie.”
Page blew out a breath as she took off her coat. “Wow, I didn’t expect you to say that. She was doing better, I thought.”
Lynn nodded and took a seat, motioning the others to do the same. “That’s why we should talk tonight about being vigilant when it comes to our health. How many of you thought you were healthy when you first discovered you had cancer?”
Nearly everyone raised her hand. Page sat on hers and shrugged. “I figured it would get me one day, so I wasn’t really surprised. More like relieved that I could stop worrying about when it was going to happen. Now I could focus on getting it out.”
“For the most part, we figured we were okay until our diagnoses. But our bodies had been sending clues that we probably chose to ignore or dismiss.” Lynn sat forward in her chair. “I didn’t do monthly self-exams because no one in my family had ever had cancer. Diabetes and heart disease, sure. But cancer? I assumed I was safe.”
One of the women nodded. “I did my self-exams, but my cancer was too small to feel. So I thought I was okay, too.”
“Now that we’ve had cancer, we need to listen to our bodies even more. If something doesn’t feel right, have it checked out. Keep a journal. Talk to your doctor.” Lynn glanced around the circle, her gaze landing on April. “Just because you’ve had cancer doesn’t make you immune from everything else out there. Because you’re a cancer survivor doesn’t mean you won’t have a heart attack, or like Stephanie, die from complications with pneumonia. Being a survivor means that you faced down one demon, but we still need to be on the lookout for others.”
It made sense to April that having cancer didn’t give her a free pass on other potential health issues. Though in fairness, it seemed as if it should. She’d had to go through so much already that she shouldn’t have to worry about anything else. The reoccurrence of cancer was enough to keep her awake at night.
Lynn moved on to the sharing portion of the meeting, and one of the others talked about her recent scans. April noticed Page wasn’t even pretending to be listening but picking at one of her cuticles. April leaned toward her. “What’s going on?”
Page put her finger to her mouth. “Shh, it’s sharing time.”
Lynn turned to Page. “Did you want to share something with the group?”
Page shook her head. “Naw, I’m good for this week.”
Lynn looked at April. “How are you coming along with your second-chance list?”
The entire group knew about April’s list and had even brainstormed ideas to add to it. She shrugged. “We took a cooking class a few days ago. That was pretty cool.”
“Tell them about the hot guy.”
April frowned at Page. “The hot guy has nothing to do with my list.”
“So you admit that you’re attracted to him? Why won’t you go out with him?”
“Because I don’t like him. Sure, he’s good-looking, but he rubs me the wrong way.” April crossed her arms over her chest. “Why should I go out with someone like that?”
“You don’t know him well enough to not like him.” Page appealed to the group. “You should have seen the sparks between them when they rolled out the pasta dough.”
Lynn’s eyebrows shot up. “He asked you out?”
“Yes, and I shot him down.”
“Isn’t the point of your second-chance list to take you out of your comfort zone and see what else is out there?” Lynn pleaded, “Isn’t going out on one date with him part of that?”
April bit her lip. Part of her resented Page for bringing up Zach. Another part knew she and Lynn were right. April hadn’t given him a chance, but then why should she? If cancer had taught her anything it was that life was too short to waste on regrets. She couldn’t explain why she didn’t like Zach, but then, she didn’t need to. She knew she’d regret it if she tried to get close to him. “No. My second-chance list is about doing things I’ve wanted to do but didn’t have time for or the opportunity to pursue. It’s not about squandering time with pushy men who have a cell phone stuck to their ear.”
“Okay, okay. What’s next on your list?”
“I haven’t decided.” She hadn’t thought that far ahead yet. She figured she’d close her eyes and point to one.
“Wait.” Page sat up straighter in her chair. “There’s a doctor at the hospital that has tickets for an exclusive wine tasting. I couldn’t go with him, so I gave him your number.”
April groaned. “A blind date? Really?”
“Not so blind. You know Dr. Ross in Pediatrics?”
April glared and mentally scanned the staff at the hospital. “The name is familiar. Maybe I know him.”
“Well, don’t be surprised when he calls you. He definitely remembered who you were and seemed interested.” Page gave her a bright smile. “And I know that going to a wine tasting is on your list.”
It wouldn’t hurt to give Dr. Ross a shot. But then why wouldn’t she do the same for Zach? asked a little voice. She shook her head. Because that was a completely different situation. She’d seen Zach in action and hadn’t cared for him. But Dr. Ross was a mystery. One she’d be interested in unraveling given the chance.
* * *
THE KNOCKING ON his bedroom door wouldn’t stop. Zach checked the clock. A little after three in the morning. Rubbing his eyes, he walked to the door and opened it. “What’s wrong, Mom?”
“You’re going to be late for school.” She peered behind him into the darkened room. “Why aren’t you dressed?”
“It’s not morning yet, Mom. And I haven’t been in school for more than a dozen years.” He put his arm around her shoulders. “Why don’t you go on back to bed and I’ll read you a chapter from your book?”
She smiled. “The romance one? Love stories are my favorite.”
He nodded and led her down the hall toward her bedroom. “I know.” He squinted from the bright light in the room, but helped his mom into bed. He sat in the recliner and pulled the book they’d been reading the past week from the bookshelf and flipped to where they’d left off earlier that evening.
As he read aloud to her about the Duke of Montmorency and the governess who taught his young ward, the words lulled his mother to sleep. After three pages, her eyes closed and soft snores accompanied his reading. He put the bookmark in place and watched her for a moment. When she slept like this, he remembered how she used to be—so vibrant, full of laughter and funny stories. Her eyes were clear and bright, not clouded with confusion. He missed his mother, grieved for her even though she was still alive. He wished he could do more for her, that he could find a doctor who’d be able to bring her back to him, restore the person she’d once been. Unfortunately, the doctors had told him her disease wouldn’t get better. She had moments of lucidity, but they came less often. And she stubbornly held on to the past as her present.
He replaced the book on the shelf, then stood and covered his mother with the blanket. She stirred, and he held his breath to see if she’d stay asleep. Her eyes remained closed, so he leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Good night, Mom.”
He tiptoed out of the room and turned off the light before slowly shutting the door. The snores on the other side meant that he could return to his own bed. But when he lay down under the sheets, he stared at the ceiling, unable to stop the tumble of thoughts in his brain. His mother’s condition seemed to be getting worse. She’d soon need more care than what he could provide. And that meant finding a facility for her. He shut his eyes tight. He couldn’t think about that now. Wouldn’t try to imagine what it would be like to give up on his mother when she needed him the most.
April’s face popped into his mind. The thought of her made him smile despite the fact that she’d rejected him. That was okay. He could ask her out again. There was something about her that intrigued him. That called out to him in a moment like this when he needed to be calm, when sleep wasn’t coming.
* * *
APRIL FELT ALONG the sides of the teen boy’s throat before she turned to the mother, who clearly fretted as she watched. “His glands are swollen, so it’s probably strep throat.” She took a tongue depressor and cotton swab from her coat pocket as well as the small flashlight. “Wade, I need you to open your mouth as wide as you can. I have to run a test to make sure what we’re dealing with.”
The boy opened his mouth, and she used the tongue depressor to stabilize his tongue while she ran the cotton swab along the red, inflamed tissues near the back of his throat. When she finished, she put the swab in a plastic tube and marked the sticker on the outside with Wade’s name and hers. “I’ll have the lab check this ASAP. When is the last time you visited your regular doctor?”
The mother gave a shrug. Based on the shabbiness of her winter coat and the scant information on the intake forms, April could guess that it had been a long time. The only reason that they’d shown up in her ER that morning was because Wade had stopped breathing in class when his throat had swollen to the point of closing. A quick-thinking school nurse had gotten him breathing again before the ambulance arrived. “If it’s strep, I’ll give you some antibiotics and you’ll be off school for a few days until you’re better.” She turned to the mother. “Any questions for me?”
“How much will all this cost? I’m already missing work to be here.”
“I’ll get our information on payment plans, and the hospital can make arrangements with you. I’ll be right back.” She stepped out of the curtained area and almost ran into a tall man in a white lab coat with green eyes and graying temples. “Sorry, Doctor.”
“Dr. Sprader? April, right?”
She nodded and tried to recall if she knew him. His name didn’t register. “Did I call you for a consult?” It had been one of those days and she might have forgotten about it.
“I’ve been meaning to call you all week, but things kept coming up.”
A lightbulb flashed on in her mind. “Dr. Ross and the wine tasting.”
“Page told you about me? Good.” He glanced around the crowded emergency room. “Do you have a few minutes for us to talk?”
She held up the tube with Wade’s throat culture. “Gotta get this to the lab. We can talk while we walk.”
She started to zip around patients and medical staff. The sooner she got the swab to the lab, the sooner she’d have answers for Wade and his mother. And she didn’t want to wait too long and have other lab tests get in the queue ahead of her.
She glanced back once to make sure that Dr. Ross had kept pace with her. He was faring not too badly, only one or two people behind her. She paused as she got to the laboratory. He came up beside her. “You move fast for such a tiny thing.”
She ignored the way the comment made her bristle. “You’d be surprised how often that skill comes in handy.” And she strode faster through the laboratory’s glass door.
“Dr. Sprader. April. Are you free tomorrow evening about seven?” he called after her.
She smiled at Javier, the intake manager, who accepted the swab and input the patient’s name and date of birth in the computer. He smiled back. “We’re about thirty minutes behind today.”
April put her hand on his arm. “But you’ll put mine at the top of the list, right?”
He winked at her and passed the throat culture to one of the lab techs. April turned to Dr. Ross. “You were asking me about tomorrow night?”
He frowned sharply. “Do you always flirt with the staff to get your tests moved up in the queue?”
“No. Sometimes I bribe them with cookies.” She laughed at his dour expression. “That’s a joke. Javier and his team follow protocol, so you can erase those frown lines on your forehead. I’ll have my results in due course.”
“Oh.” He took a deep breath, then squared his shoulders. “Would you like to accompany me to a wine tasting tomorrow night? I’ve got tickets to an exclusive party, and your friend Page thought you might be interested.”
She eyed him up and down. He wasn’t bad-looking in an older, distinguished-man kind of way. He might lack a sense of humor, but then, she couldn’t have everything, right? Learning about different wines was on her second-chance list, so she agreed. “Okay. It’s a date.”
He gave a brief smile and walked away. April discovered Javier watching Dr. Ross’s departure. “You’re sure about going out with that guy?” he asked.
She shrugged. “You’re married. What other choice do I have?”
They shared a grin, and she pushed off the wall and zigzagged back to the emergency room.
* * *
ZACH FOUND AN empty parking spot behind Marissa’s wine shop and checked his appearance in the rearview mirror before getting out of the car. Not that he needed to look good for her anymore. She’d made it clear when they got divorced that she had no plans for reconciliation. In fact, she remarried within a year and seemed happier with Jeff than she had with him. He tried to be happy for her.
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Syndi Powell
Тип: электронная книга
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
Язык: на английском языке
Издательство: HarperCollins
Дата публикации: 16.04.2024
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О книге: Now that she’s healed… can she heal him? Armed with a clean bill of health, ER doctor April Sprader is ready to check off items on her bucket list. After meeting Zach Harrison, number four–start dating–shoots to the top. But the workaholic sports agent and caregiver has no spare time. Unless April can persuade Zach that this could be a second chance for them both…