Fiance for Keeps

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Fiance for Keeps Page 4

by Gail Chianese


  When it became clear to Denise that he wasn’t coming after her, that he’d written her off, she’d buried herself and the pain in work. It paid off too. Named top intern, she had received an offer to complete her residency at the same hospital. She loved her job and somewhere deep, deep, deep down inside she knew she had done the right thing. Just right at that moment, as she held her nephew in her arms and saw the glow on her sister’s face, and her muscles clenched in her lower abdomen, she highly doubted she’d ever experience the joy of having her own family.

  “Is your arm cramping up?”

  “Huh? Oh, just need to shift him. He’s fine.” Denise moved the baby up to her shoulder and then moved in to give the proud expectant parents a hug of congratulations.

  Her father ran out of the room and returned with a bottle of sparkling apple cider and five champagne glasses. He popped the cork, filled the glasses, and called for a toast.

  “While we’re toasting, I have some exciting news too,” Denise said.

  All eyes turned to her. Initially, she hadn’t planned to tell them, but a small part of her feared Brody wouldn’t be able to get her out of the contract and she didn’t want to blindside her family at the last minute. Her mother held her hand to her chest, looking more terrified than happy, and considering the last time she had “surprised” them it was to call off the wedding, she suspected her mom was preparing for the worst.

  “I’ve been invited to participate on Finding Mr. Right.”

  More stares. More confused looks, which she expected from her dad and Bill, neither of whom watched the show. However, she knew her mom and sister were closet fans.

  “You know, the reality dating show on TV? Aren’t you excited for me?” She looked each of them in the eye, hoping to find some small hint of happiness for her.

  “What about your job?” her dad sputtered. “You can’t quit after all the hard work and time and money you’ve spent to go on some silly show.”

  “I have vacation time coming to me.”

  Her dad looked at the glass in his hand and Denise had a sinking feeling he was thinking he’d rather have a shot of ouzo.

  “Is it going to be that cute farmer or the sexy former basketball player? I heard his fiancée dumped him,” her sister whispered.

  “Neither, at least as far as I know. I’d be Ms. Right, so there’d be over a dozen men for me to find my Mr. Right from.”

  “You can’t go on the show,” her mother exclaimed. “You have responsibilities here. Your job. Your sister who’s pregnant.”

  “Mom, I’m not Elysia’s OB and I’ll be back long before she goes into labor.”

  “What about us? What will people think, that our daughter the doctor can’t find a man on her own? They’ll blame me. They always blame the mother. I won’t be able to face the ladies at church. They watch, you know, and the way those women behave. Scandalous. As if their mothers never taught them any manners or morals. I forbid it.”

  Her mom gave her “the look,” the one that struck fear into the heart of every eighth-grade student who had Mrs. Saunders for English.

  Denise wrapped her mom in a tight hug while exchanging eye rolls with her sister, because some things never changed. “It’s a good thing you taught me both. I’ll be fine, Mom. I won’t be living in the same house as the guys and I know: no inappropriate behavior in a hot tub.” She pulled back to look at her mother. “I promise.”

  “I think it’s a great idea.” Elysia bounced across the room and gave her a quick squeeze. “Chel is going to freak. You know she’s a huge fan of the show.” She held up her faux champagne. “A toast to both of us. To healthy babies and finding love.”

  It was getting late, so Bill took the baby off to bundle him in his car seat for the ride home. Her dad grumbled about wasting her education and insisted on cleaning up the glasses, leaving her alone with her mom and sister.

  “This is so exciting. I can’t wait to tell everyone. My sister is going to be a TV star.”

  “You can’t tell anyone, at least not until after we’re done filming.”

  Her sister pouted but agreed before leaving. Her mom pulled her down to sit next to her on the couch.

  “Honey,” she said, “do you really think this is a good idea? Very few of the couples stay together and some of those men have questionable motives for being there. Remember that one season, with the stalker who lied to the hotel clerk to get in the woman’s room. You could get killed in your sleep. I mean, I know it hasn’t happened yet, but there’s always a first.”

  Her family’s reaction hadn’t been a huge surprise. If she got out of the contract—and she had no plans to tell them right now about her attempt—her sisters would grouse a little. Then they’d rally behind her decision. Her parents? They’d smugly think it had been their idea. Whatever. It didn’t really matter to Denise. As long as they were happy and kept the lectures to a minimum, life would be good.

  “Mom, I know the odds. Although I don’t think anyone will try to kill me, the odds of me finding someone through my circles are even less.”

  “You could always try again with Brody. I know he still loves you.”

  “No. That’s over and not happening again.” It was like she couldn’t get away from the guy lately. “As for my behavior, you don’t have to worry. I remember your rule: if it’s going to piss you off, don’t do it.”

  Chapter Three

  Brody spotted Denise as she made her way down the other side of the gym to the stands. He had no idea why she was there. She hated lacrosse. It could have been a number of reasons, he supposed. Maybe she’d heard something new on the show. Or had a friend on the other team. One thing he was sure of: it wasn’t because of him—unless it was in his legal capacity.

  He tossed the ball to Jason and pretended he didn’t see her join Cherry, Jason’s wife, and Tawny, Dave’s fiancée, on the bleachers the school had pulled out for spectators, which explained her presence more than anything else. Brody kept his eye on Dave, who had the ball, and missed getting beamed in the chest by a split-second move. The guys continued to pass and catch until the fourth ball got past Brody. The ref blew his whistle and the teams headed to their side of the field.

  “So, Bro.” Dave clamped him on the shoulder. “Did you see who’s sitting with the ladies?”

  Brody kept walking. “No.”

  “Right.” Jason laughed. “You didn’t notice Denise walk in about eight minutes ago? Right around the time every pass that came toward you kept on sailing by?”

  “Nope.” He took a slug of water and listened to the coach’s instructions. He hadn’t shared yesterday’s meeting with his friends. The women would tell them and then they’d give Brody shit, as usual, and he wasn’t ready to hear their two cents on the subject. Considering both women had appeared on the show, Denise had probably met up with them today to get insider tips, should she not get out of the contract. “You two are up first. Hey, Fubar,” he called out to Dave. “No showing off. Tawny already said yes.”

  Brody ignored Dave’s comeback and pulled his cell phone out of his bag and typed a quick message.

  Is everything okay? New development?

  He hit Send and looked across the gym. Denise pulled her phone out of her pocket and looked down. Her head jerked up for a fraction of a moment, long enough to make eye contact with Brody, before she bent over the phone again.

  Was hoping you had heard something from them.

  It had been less than twenty-four hours since she’d come to him for help, and while it had been the end of the day in Rhode Island, California was still in work mode when he’d placed the call. He’d found out that Fridays in Hollywood ran on a different schedule when he was told the person he needed to speak with had already left for the day. He’d left a message, stated it was urgent, and figured if he was lucky he’d hear back from them on Monday. Denise returned to her conversation with Cherry and Tawny, her eyes tracking the action on the field the whole time.

  The coach y
elled at him to get on deck before he could respond. He tossed his phone in his bag and looked up in time to see Kelley, one of his teammates, get slammed by the other team. Kelley went down and the ref’s whistle blew. Denise jumped from her seat and flew down the few steps, fully engaged in doctor mode. After a few minutes, Kelley got up and headed his way, but not before sending Denise a look that was equal parts thankful and flirty.

  Brody pushed the thought out of his mind as the coach sent him in. Jason stopped him long enough to ask if he was okay while nodding toward the bleachers. Brody assured him that his head was in the game and continued on to his position.

  Dave came up next to him and hip checked him. “Looks like you’ve got some competition. Want me to take out Kelley?”

  “Maybe next weekend, but not today. I need him in one piece for the game.”

  Denise attempted to pay attention to the conversation with her friends, but her gaze locked on seven red and refused to look away. He’d played since middle school, a natural at the sport, and made varsity his freshman year of high school. The game was wicked fast, highly competitive, and, even with pads and helmets, dangerous. Brody accumulated quite the list of injuries before they graduated: broken arm (check), concussion (double check), bruised ribs (check), dislocated shoulder (check), not to mention numerous bruises and sprains (too many to check). As a girlfriend, it had been hell watching him play and get hurt all through high school, college and beyond. Apparently, as she watched his every move with bated breath, not much had changed over the years.

  Too bad she couldn’t blame her rabid attention on something mundane like the uniforms. Sexy, they were not. Unlike baseball players who wore tight shirts and pants that showed off their arms, shoulders, legs and tushies, lacrosse uniforms consisted of loose jerseys over bulky pads and baggy shorts. Although she had to admit Brody had some fine-looking calves, as did most of the other guys.

  “Denise, want to borrow my napkin?” Cherry held out what looked to be a used tissue.

  “What for?”

  “You’re drooling, girlfriend,” Tawny said.

  Denise casually rubbed at her dry chin before responding. “Well, number five on the blue team has some pretty spectacular moves. Don’t you think?”

  “I think you mean seven red.” Cherry stuffed the napkin back in her pocket and elbow nudged Tawny.

  Tawny pointed to the far side of the room, where the players waited. “Five blue isn’t even playing right now. Nice try.”

  “I knew that.” She pointed to the guy next to Brody. “I was watching twenty-seven red. Did you see him steal the ball from the other team? Pretty slick move.”

  Cheshire cat grins stared back at her. She really sucked at lying.

  “Someone doesn’t know the girlfriend code,” Tawny said to Cherry.

  “Definitely breaking the rules,” Cherry responded.

  She pulled her focus off the game—Brody—and turned to her friends. “What are you two talking about?”

  Cherry looked to Tawny and gave her the go ahead.

  “Chica, you told us you just happened by and saw my car and wanted to come in and say hi. We’re not buying it. What’s the deal with you and Brody?”

  “Are you two back together? Gram will be thrilled. She’s been saying daily prayers to St. Valentine, the patron saint of lovers, for you two,” Cherry said, straight-faced and dead serious.

  At least Denise knew whom to blame for bringing him back into her life. Not that she could stay mad at Kitty Ryan. Who could? At near seventy, Cherry’s grandmother was full of spunk and fire and knew how to liven up a hospital floor. Having first treated her in the ER and then seeing her stand up to her husband had turned Kitty into a hero for the entire female staff. One thing led to another, and Denise became fast friends with Cherry and then Tawny. The only downside had been them dating Brody’s best friends.

  “Tell Gram thanks, but please stop. And I really did see your car. I wanted to tell you that I was invited to participate on the show.” She filled them in on the rest, including her attempt to get out of her rash decision. “So, if I end up as Ms. Right, we need to set up a dinner where you both can give me tips on how to survive living with a camera on me twenty-four seven.”

  Their smiles stopped as their jaws dropped.

  “Does Brody know?” Cherry shot a quick glance at the players. “I mean . . . he’s the lawyer. Although, with filming scheduled to start in a couple of weeks, they’ve probably already set up the rental and even some of the date locations. I’m surprised you said yes. I thought after, you know, your weekend together—”

  “—we thought you two would get back together,” Tawny finished for her.

  “Apparently, the universe has other plans for us because while the weekend was incredible, nothing happened once reality rolled around on Monday morning.”

  To call their time together incredible was like saying Lindt chocolates were okay. Total understatement. Brody had loved her as thoroughly as a man could physically love—really, worship—a woman. He’d left her breathless, boneless, and wanting more. And that “more” didn’t just refer to sex. She wanted more for them, for her, the same as always.

  “If that’s the case, chica, what are you doing at his lacrosse game? And don’t say you saw my car. We carpooled with Jason and Cherry.” Tawny gave her a don’t-bullshit-me look that reminded Denise of a particularly stern teacher she once had.

  “Okay, back up for a second. Yes, Brody knows. He’s reviewing the contract for me. He’s . . .” She searched for the right words. “He’s fine. Of course, you know, he had some concerns based on your experience. He’ll do his best, and if they say no, I’ll sleep in the bed I made.”

  “It’s not like that happens every season, and the producers are very careful with the screening process now.” Cherry blushed until her cheeks matched her deep red hair.

  “Yeah, but let’s be honest. They love them some crazy, drama-filled, cry-at-the-drop-of-a-look women. Thankfully, you just have to deal with testosterone overload and maybe a few fists flying. How many fights broke out in your season, Cherry?” Tawny gave a little shudder and then shook her head. “I couldn’t do it.”

  “Only two.”

  Tingling at the base of Denise’s skull had her turning her head to stare into familiar dark eyes. They hadn’t been talking loud enough for him to hear. Had they? By the look on Brody’s face, and the sudden, hard body check he delivered to his opponent, he was anything but fine with her decision.

  Tawny leaned in close and nudged her with her shoulder. “Maybe the universe is having second thoughts.”

  Denise didn’t respond, mostly because the ref’s whistle blew, followed by him chewing Brody out for an illegal block and sending him to the penalty box. Two of the players tapped him on the shoulder as he exited the field—probably Jason and Dave. Those guys stuck together tighter than sardines in a can, and she was kind of surprised they didn’t argue the call with the ref. From across the room, Brody stood apart from the other players, guzzling his water, his gaze locked with hers.

  His temper had cost him the rest of the game.

  At least she didn’t have to worry about him getting hurt today. The rest of the game went by uneventfully and she found herself releasing her breath when the final buzzer went off. Breath she hadn’t even known she’d been holding as she and Brody had engaged in a battle of wills to see who would look away first. They’d tied.

  Her phone buzzed and she pulled it out of her pocket, expecting a text from Brody, who had disappeared into the throng of his teammates. Instead, it was her boss.

  Need you in ASAP.

  Great, another slammed weekend in the ER. “Hey, guys, I’ve got to run. Work calls. Tell the guys excellent game.”

  She’d made it to her car before her extrasensory radar went off. Without turning around, she knew Brody was there.

  “Running out again?”

  She turned around and held up her phone. “Work beckons.”


  “Same story, different day.”

  She let out a low laugh that said she was anything but amused. “You know illness, injury, and death—those three have no respect for schedules.”

  “I put a call in to the show’s rep. I wouldn’t expect a response for a couple of days.”

  “Of course. I’m sure they have some hoops to jump through.” She looked down at her keys. “Um, good game. Well, except where you got penalized and put in time-out for the rest of the game. I hope I didn’t distract you.”

  “Nope. Surprised to see you. As I remember, you hated the sport.”

  “I hated seeing you get hurt.”

  “It’s not a good day if no one gets hurt.”

  “Men! You’re all nuts.” She needed to get going, and not because her boss had said ASAP either. The longer she stood here with him the louder her evil memory reminded her of how good they’d been together. “After tonight I’m on days for the next two weeks. If I don’t answer, leave a message and I’ll call you back as soon as I’m free. If they say no, no need to push it—”

  “Are you sure you want out of this deal?”

  “Of course. Nothing is more important than my job. I’ve worked too hard to lose everything: my position, the fellowship.”

  “That’s an easy excuse. You know what I think? I think you’re scared. Scared shitless of meeting someone and making and following through on a commitment to him.” He leaned back against the car next to hers with his arms across his chest.

  “You think I’m a commitment phobe? We dated for how many years? Twelve? And the only reason you proposed was because my dad started giving you a hard time about your intentions.” Her phone buzzed again. Her boss. She really had to go, but the look in Brody’s eyes, the clenched jaw, the tic in his throat, told her otherwise. “Brody, look, if this is too much—”

  “It’s fine. Go. Work is calling.”

  She didn’t give a lot of thought to being called in early—it happened—until she walked into a quiet ER. Unusual for a Saturday, but it was early and with more and more urgent-care centers open, the ER saw less nonemergency traffic now than in the past. If things weren’t slammed, and based on the number of doctors present they weren’t, why had she been called in?

 

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