“Antonio, but we called him Tony.”
“You were a beautiful couple.”
She smiles even though her dark eyes are sad. “We were happy together.”
“How long ago did you lose him?”
“Five years. He was in his second year on the job.”
“You must’ve been very young at the time.”
“I was twenty-four.”
“Oh damn. I really am so sorry.”
“It was a long time ago.”
Something about the way she says those words indicates that even though five years have passed, the loss is still fresh for her in many ways.
“Where should we go for dinner?” she asks.
“You’re the local expert. You tell me.”
“What do you like?”
You. I like you. The words pop into my brain, an involuntary reaction to an innocuous question and the sort of thought I have no business having toward my new colleague. “I’ll eat anything.”
She thinks about that for a second. “I know where we should go.”
I follow her out of the apartment, changed by the information I learned inside her home. While I can’t and won’t deny I was instantly attracted to her, I need to respect what she’s been through, dial back the attraction and focus on getting my life sorted.
If I keep my mind where it belongs—on fixing the disaster my promising career has become—then I won’t do anything stupid like allow myself to fall for the beautiful young woman who may hold the key to my redemption.
CHAPTER 4
CARMEN
I’ll confess to having had a bad case of preconceived notions about the good doctor. Such as—if he looks like a sexy surfer dude and is also a brain surgeon, he must be a tool. In other words, a man like him can have anyone he wants, so I expect him to be full of himself and constantly looking for a better offer.
“We’re going to Coconut Grove. It’ll take a while, but you’ll figure out all the various parts of Miami.”
“I had no idea it was such a sprawling city.”
“It’s massive, especially when you include Miami Beach. And traffic is a nightmare, always.”
“I’m seeing that.” He no sooner says those words than a car cuts in front of us and crosses three lanes of traffic to take an exit. “What the hell?”
“Get used to it. People are allergic to turn signals around here.”
“I thought New York drivers were bad.”
“They’ve got nothing on South Floridians.”
Half an hour after we arrive at a Mexican restaurant one of my friends told me about, I’ve come to realize my preconceived notions about him were grossly unfair. He’s not a tool, and he hasn’t looked at anyone but me and the young man waiting on us.
That’s not to say the other women in the room aren’t looking at him, but he seemed completely oblivious to the attention he received as we followed the host into the dining room. One woman dining nearby with a man is practically panting as she stares at my companion.
Women are gross sometimes. I want to snap at her to keep her eyes where they belong, especially since she’s old enough to be Jason’s mother.
And yes, he told me to call him Jason and not Dr. Northrup. That happened on the ride to the restaurant in the same Porsche that landed me in jail earlier today. I still can’t believe that actually happened, I think with a nervous laugh.
He looks at me over the top of his menu. “What’s so funny?”
“I was just recalling my time in jail.”
“I’m glad you’re laughing about it.”
“The alternative would be to cry hysterically.”
“Nah, no need for that. You handled it like a champ.”
“I’m glad you think so. On the inside, I was quaking.” I lean in to whisper. “I’ve never even been to detention.”
He laughs, and the sound washes over me like a soothing balm, surprising me with a familiar feeling of comfort. “You’re a very good girl, aren’t you?”
“Yes! I always have been.”
“Here’s a newsflash. You won’t go to hell because you spent an hour in lockup.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because. Hell is reserved for the truly bad people, and you’re a truly good person.”
“And how do you know that?”
He dips a chip into salsa. “Am I wrong?”
“I try to be a good person and help others.”
“There you go. An hour in the clink isn’t going to undo all that goodness.”
“If my grandmothers find out about it, I’ll never hear the end of it.”
“There’s no reason to tell them or anyone. It was a misunderstanding. That’s all.”
“It was an hour in jail.”
“Think of it as life experience. Now you know what it’s like to be arrested.”
“That’s the kind of life experience I could do without, so you can quit trying to make it into something positive.”
“It’s a good story you can tell your kids someday, about the time Mommy stole a Porsche and got herself arrested.”
I’m in the middle of a sip of water when he says that, and I cough as water comes spewing out my nose and mouth.
He loses it laughing again, and every female head in the place—and a few of the male heads—swivels in his direction. “Do you need CPR over there?”
I wave him off and use the white cloth napkin to wipe the water off my face. “A, I did not steal a Porsche. I borrowed it to do your dirty work. And B, I didn’t actually get arrested, because I was never arraigned.”
His brows furrow with concern. “You know there was nothing dirty about what went down with Betty, right?”
“I heard what you did for her. It was very nice of you.”
“It was no big deal. I felt so bad for her when we ran into each other at baggage claim yesterday, and she was crying because her guy blew her off. Then her bag never came, and I couldn’t just leave her there by herself in a strange city.”
“Most people would’ve walked away and left her to fend for herself.”
“Well, I’m not most people.”
“I’m beginning to realize that.”
The waiter arrives with salads for both of us.
“Talk to me about what you want to see happen with this so-called campaign of yours.”
“I’m looking for community service opportunities, things I can do to stay busy and make a difference at the same time.”
“With publicity or without?”
“Preferably without, but I do need a way for the board to find out I’m doing it.”
“We could make that happen.”
“We could, could we?”
I’m unnerved by his amusement as well as the intrigued way in which he looks at me. Since I lost Tony, I’ve been on more first dates than I can count but have mostly avoided confronting the reality that the love of my life is gone and never coming back. Everyone who is anyone has told me that someday I’ll find love again, and while I’m not opposed to that, I certainly haven’t been looking for it.
Today and tonight with Jason . . . It’s the first time I’ve felt anything for another man since Tony died. The feelings he arouses in me are unexpected and mostly unwelcome. I don’t want to react to him the way I do. I want to help him with his problem and be on my way, with my debt to him paid.