He smirks—the nerve. “At least you’re developing some feelings for me, Dr. Hottie. We’re making some progress.”
“Can we focus on Mr. Clark?”
He nods—his phone rings. “Yes, it’s an emergency, Lang. It’s Mr. Clark. I’ll have the doctor take a better look at him after we take him to the ER. Oh, of course we can do that. Did you speak to Mane about it? You can…” He glances at me and walks away. I hate that I can’t listen to the rest of the conversation.
When he’s back, he picks up the box and goes to the examination room. “Mr. C., we have to fly you to the hospital.”
“It’s not necessary. The doctor can patch me here.”
“You have to go with him,” I insist. “Next week, I want to see you for a full physical if you don’t mind?”
Mr. Clark doesn’t seem too happy to leave, but he agrees. Fisher walks close to me and leans forward. “Listen, I’m going to be away for a few days. Do me a favor and go to the coffee shop to pick up your food three times a day.”
“I can take care of myself but thank you.”
“Are you always this stubborn?”
“Generally.” I smile.
“Could you please just do me that little favor? I need to know that you’re taken care of.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“I’m sure, but right now you don’t have a kitchen nor a…” He gives me the box, walks to the desk, and scribbles something. Then he gives me a small paper. “That’s my phone number. Please text me your number, I don’t have time to trace it. That’s my home address and that’s the code to my house. The fridge is full, you can cook your meals there until I’m back.”
His offer is tempting. A house with all the amenities and he’s not going to be there to annoy me. Sounds good but… “Nope.”
“Why are you so stubborn?” he asks with a hint of desperation.
“I could ask why you’re so annoying, but I choose to stop the conversation. See you in a couple of weeks. You can always stay away for years,” I suggest, waving.
“Listen, the patients aren’t paying. The cookies aren’t going to be enough to feed you. If you go to my house, I promise to close the bar early for a week.”
I cross my arms, tilting my chin. “That’s not good enough. What else can you offer?”
“Two weeks. That’s my last offer.”
I grab the paper. “Thank you.”
He kisses my cheek. “Miss me, Doc.”
I shouldn’t, but I probably will.
Chapter Fourteen
Fisher
This isn’t how I wanted my day to go.
First, Mrs. Norman tells Nathalie that I’m a playboy. That’s the opposite of how I want Dr. Brennan to see me. If there’s something I enjoy about Dr. Hottie, it’s that she treats me like any other person. Not some famous dude she can fuck and brag about it with her friends after she’s done with me.
Then, Mr. Clark shows up with a broken hand, trying to give away his evil chicken. Kylo-hen is cool, but only with me. She hates humanity. I can see her threatening Nathalie with her diabolical beak. I wish Mr. Clark would accept my offer to hire a couple of farmhands to help him with his animals. He won’t, though. He’s too proud.
To top it all off, my boss from The Organization wants to see me. According to Lang, he has a quick job for me. What happened to the sacred rule? We don’t work with anyone outside our team.
Lang sends a helicopter to pick us up. He texts that Mr. Clark will be taken care of once we arrive in Seattle.
Once we land on the helipad that’s on the top of the HIB Security building, Nathan Bradley takes Mr. Clark with him. As he approaches the elevator bank he glances at me. “Dad’s waiting for you in his office.”
Nathan has no concept of reality or urgency—or he just wants to see his father chide me. I go with option number two. He’s like the little brother I never had but want to maim. I sigh and head to the stairwell to head downstairs. Mason Bradley’s office is just one floor below from the roof of the HIB Security building. It gives me some time to text Nathalie. I forgot to offer her my bed, in case she wants to spend a few days in a more comfortable place.
Fisher: You should spend these few days at my house.
Nathalie: Why would I want to do that?
Fisher: It’s better than living in a playroom, don’t you think?
Nathalie: That’s my apartment.
Fisher: No, it’s a playroom. You just don’t want to accept it.
Nathalie: Is this some scheme to get me out of there and change the locks?
Fisher: If we wanted you out, we would’ve done so days ago.
Nathalie: What do you get from letting me stay at your house?
This chick has trust issues. I bet no one has ever done something nice for her without expecting anything back. I recall what Lang told us about her parents. They sound like a couple of snobbish old people who only expect the best from their children. For that and many other reasons, I don’t plan on having children. I’d fuck them up the moment they were conceived. Why bother?
Some people shouldn’t be parents. Mine are the best example. They fucked me up before I was born. Thank fuck they decided to move to Seattle. Well, that was the idea. After a few months, they went back to Los Angeles, divorced, and left me with the nanny.
My phone buzzes again, but since I’m about to enter the office of Mason Bradley, I ignore it. I’m perplexed by the presence of Lang and Manelik.
“I thought you were preparing for your trip to Fiji.”
Mane gives me a tight smile. “Me too, but there’s an emergency.”
I salute Mason. “Boss.”
“Thank you for coming on such short notice, boys,” he says. “We got some intel last night, and we want to move fast. I know this is unorthodox, but I need some of my best people on this case.”
Love the guy like a father, but I wish he had prepared me for this. I’ve had no fucking sleep since Sanford was heading to a mission, and we were all…is nostalgic the right word? Concerned might fit best. Even though Seth Bradley is with him, and Beacon will be consulting, the entire thing feels off.
Okay, it feels all fucked up and there’s nothing we can do to stop it.
I glance at Mane. “Did you get any sleep?”
He shakes his head. “No, but we’re leaving for Alaska right now. We’ll have plenty of time to rest before we have to work.”
“Alaska?” I shiver. “My balls are going to freeze there.”
Lang glares at me. “Seriously, that’s what worries you?”
No. I worry that Mane and I are going to the slaughterhouse. Our security blanket is on the other side of the world, watching over Seth and his team. If there’s someone I trust with my life, it’s San. “Why Alaska?”
“I need eyes there,” Mason answers.
Lang, who is part of the geek squad and flies all kinds of drones, should be the one observing. “What kind of eyes? Shouldn’t Sir Byron Langdon be flying the gadgets and gathering intelligence?”
“We need the kind that checks on a couple of houses where we think there might be hackers,” Mason says.