“I figured Sophie and Doc were a lot closer than the fire department,” said Connie.
Walter nodded approvingly. “Good idea. That was really smart of you.”
Connie blushed at the compliment.
“So, where’s the big emergency?” asked Sophie.
Sam or Roy or whatever his name was spoke up. “That would be me. Sorry for the misunderstanding, but I’m fine. Thanks.”
Now that the “emergency” was over, Annie could take a longer look at him. Same light brown hair, same green eyes. No doubt about it. This was Sam DeLuca. She’d watched his TV interviews enough times to have practically memorized every pore on his face.
What on earth was he doing in Old Explorer’s Bay?
“Since I’m here,” said Sophie, “do you mind if I check you out?” She smiled at her own double entendre.
He shrugged. “Sure.”
Sophie took out her stethoscope, listened to his chest and his back, then took his pulse. “I think you’ll live.” She smiled at Connie in approval. “Good call. Better safe than sorry.” She put a hand up in the air to address the café patrons. “Everything is fine, folks. You can all go back to your dinner.”
A collective murmur of relief swept through the restaurant. In less than a minute, the noise level returned to the familiar sound of silverware clinking and hushed conversations. A few people stared at Sam longer than necessary, but whether it was because they recognized him from TV or because they were curious about the new stranger in town, Annie wasn’t sure.
“Is he going to be okay?” Walter asked Sophie. “Because I’m still ready to do the Heimlich.”
Sophie patted Walter on the arm as if he were a puppy waiting to be praised. “Thanks for your … enthusiasm, but the Heimlich isn’t needed here. Not today, anyway.”
“You were fantastic, Walter,” said Connie.
This perked him up. “You think so?”
“Oh yeah. In all my years of waitressing, that’s only been my second customer choking, and the first time was a total mess. No one knew what to do, only thank God the guy survived, you know? This time though, it was wonderful having someone be so … in charge. You!” Connie said, mimicking Walter’s voice, “In the black skirt. Call for help!” She shuddered. “You were so masterful. I still have goosebumps.”
“I believe it’s every citizen’s responsibility to learn CPR,” said Walter. “You never know when you might be called upon to save a life. I thought about going to medical school. In the end, of course, I chose the law, but sometimes I do wonder.”
“You would have made a wonderful doctor,” Connie gushed.
“I like to think so.” If Walter was a peacock, he’d be strutting his feathers about now.
Annie caught Sophie’s amused gaze. “So you and Walter are still doing the regular Tuesday night dinner thing, huh?”
“Yep.” For now.
“The girls and I are still doing drinks every Thursday. You should join us sometime.” The “girls” consisted of Sophie, her best friend, Zoe Parrish (who was also Millie’s niece), Reggie Cooper, and Coco Phillips. The four of them had been best friends since grade school and were a couple of years older than Annie. Sophie had invited her to join them before, but Annie had always found a reason not to go, usually having to do with either work or Walter.
“You still meeting over at Bootleg Pete’s?” asked Annie.
“Eight p.m. every Thursday night. Don’t be late, or you won’t get any nachos,” Sophie teased. She put her stethoscope back in her bag, then turned to look at Sam. “Do I know you?” But before he could answer, she shook her head and laughed. “Never mind. I’m pretty sure if we’d ever met, I would have remembered.” She handed him a card. “In case you need any follow-up, here’s the number for our clinic. Just ask for Sophie Esposito. I’m the nurse practitioner.”
“Thanks.” He pocketed the card.
Sophie wasn’t flirting with Sam. And he wasn’t flirting with her. It was more like two good-looking people with a mutual awareness of one another. But something about it made Annie stiffen. Oddly, she realized, she was more jealous of this brief exchange than the outright flirting going on between Connie and Walter.
Now that the “emergency” was over, it was time to get to the bottom of this.
“So, who’s Roy?” Annie asked.
Connie pointed to Sam. “This guy right here.”
“Your name is Roy?” Why on earth would Connie think that Sam DeLuca was named Roy?
Sam shrugged. “That’s me.”
“Roy what?” Annie demanded.
“Roy Rogers.” There was no mistaking the humor in his green eyes. Roy Rogers, her ass. Annie tried not to laugh.
“Like the cowboy, right?” said Walter. “Your mom must have some sense of humor.”
“You ready for dessert?” Connie asked them.
Walter glanced at his watch. “No time. I need to head back to the office. This whole 911 thing has really put me off my schedule.”
Annie had spent all day building up the courage to break up with Walter. She couldn’t go through another twenty-four hours with her stomach twisted up in knots. She needed to make a clean break now. “But Walter, we need to talk.”
“Sorry, babe. I’ve got to put in at least three more hours tonight. I’m a partner now, remember?” He grabbed his coat jacket from their booth and pulled out his wallet. “Connie, can I get the bill?”
“No need for that,” said Sam. “Your dinner is on me.”
Annie spoke up. “Oh, but we couldn’t—”
“It’s the least I can do. Considering how your boyfriend practically saved my life.”
Right.
Walter put away his wallet. “That’s awful nice of you. Thanks, Roy.” He gave Annie a dismissive peck on the cheek. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
Annie waited until Walter left the café to turn to confront “Roy,” but before she could ask Sam DeLuca what he was doing in Old Explorer’s Bay, he pointed toward his booth. “Care to join for me for dessert?”
“Don’t mind if I do.” She slid into the booth to sit across from him.
“Should I bring your fish over here?” asked Connie. “You’ve hardly touched it.”
She winced. “Um, could you ditch it and bring me the meat loaf instead?”
“Sure thing,” said Connie.
“So,” she began once Connie had left them alone to get her food. “Roy Rogers, huh?”
“What can I say? I’m a Bruce Willis fan.”
“Die Hard.”
“I love that movie,” they said in unison, causing them both to laugh.
“Why the fake name? Because you’re clearly not Roy Rogers, and we both know it.”
Sam leaned into the table and lowered his voice. “I’d appreciate it if you keep that to yourself. Connie recognized me the minute I walked in the door. As for the fake name, let’s just say being Sam DeLuca hasn’t been easy this past week.”
Annie could only imagine. Between the show, Twitter crashing, and his stint on the talk-show circuit, you couldn’t go online without seeing his face or reading an article about what was next for America’s most eligible bachelor.