Deliver Me

by Farrah Rochon

  “I can introduce you to the menu at Ethel’s,” Eli offered. “I promise it’ll be better than the macaroni surprise you had in the hospital’s cafeteria.”

  “The pasta wasn’t so bad,” she lied.

  He initialed his last chart and passed it to the nurse. He crossed his arms over his chest, a playful glint sparkling in his gorgeous brown eyes. “That’s because you’ve never had Ethel’s crawfish pie and homemade carrot cake.”

  “Carrot cake does sound better than green Jell-O.”

  “You are going to forget the way to the cafeteria.”

  Ethel’s Cajun Café was wall to wall with customers. Tiny, but cozy, with oak-paneled walls and mismatched table and chair sets. The spicy aroma suffusing the air caused hunger pangs to quake through Monica’s empty stomach. She didn’t need to see a menu; just bring her one of everything.

  The restaurant’s consumer base seemed to be mostly doctors in white coats and scrubs. Monica recognized a few of the faces. She waved at Patty, who sent her a conspiring wink. Monica shook her head, but Patty had already gone back to her conversation.

  “People are going to talk,” she said as Eli pulled out her chair.

  “They do that already,” he answered, sitting opposite her.

  “Yes, but now they have reason to.”

  He rested his forearms on the table and leaned in close, “Actually, they don’t, but we could give them something to talk about if you really want to.”

  Monica found it impossible not to return his grin. “You must have some innate flirting instinct. It just happens automatically, doesn’t it?”

  He pretended to mull over his answer, “Yeah, pretty much.” Eli opened the menu the waitress had just placed in front of him. “So, what ideas do you have for the banquet?”

  Monica was momentarily caught off guard at his swift change in attitude. He went from playful flirt to all business in nanoseconds.

  “I’ve been thinking about a venue,” she said. “Where was last year’s banquet held?”

  “One of the downtown hotels, the Sheraton. I can’t be sure, but I think it’s reopened since the storm.”

  “Well, I had something a little different in mind.”

  He closed the menu and folded his hands. “Do tell, doctor,” he said, his eyes glistening with interest.

  “Okay, don’t look at me like that.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like... that. It looks as if we’re discussing more than business.”

  “It really bothers you to be seen with me, doesn’t it? I think I’m crushed.” His mouth drooped in an affronted pout before curving into a sexy smile.

  Monica glared at him before explaining, “I just don’t want people getting the wrong impression.”

  “We’re two adults having a conversation over lunch. Exactly what impression do you think people can glean from that? Besides,” he continued, not giving her a chance to answer, “we are a couple now, or have you already forgotten our deal?”

  “We’re a couple around your family.”

  “No, we are a couple all the time,” he said slowly, his forehead creasing with his frown.

  “But—”

  “We can’t pretend to date only part-time. It’s too risky.”

  “You are the one with the strict policy about not dating doctors.”

  A speculative eyebrow lifted. “You’ve mentioned that an awful lot.”

  “Is it true?”

  He sat back in his chair and folded his arm over his chest. The motion caused his shirt to pull taut over his sculpted shoulders. Monica tried not to stare.

  “Would it bother you if it were?” Eli asked.

  “No,” Monica lied. She didn’t know why this was such a burning issue with her, but it was. The fact that he summarily wrote a woman off just because she happened to be a doctor had needled at her more than Monica cared to admit.

  But if he held firm to this all-important rule, why was he laying on the heavy charm? Was it just an act? Monica wasn’t sure she even wanted to know the answer to that question. The implications were more than she could handle right now.

  “I thought the playacting was for the sake of your family only,” Monica argued, going back to the original subject.

  “I never said that.”

  “Then it looks as if we need to revisit the specifics of our deal, but now is not the time. Let’s just get back to discussing the banquet.”

  In an effort to return to the matter at hand, Monica pulled out a brochure from her purse and laid it out on the table. She quickly pulled back her trembling hand. The thought of having to pretend she was Eli’s girlfriend in front of her colleagues had her a little on edge.

  “Instead of the usual hotel ballroom, why don’t we hold this year’s banquet at one of the old plantation homes? I’ve been visiting them on the weekends.”

  Eli picked up the brochure and perused the glossy, accordion style photo spread.

  “Why a plantation?” he asked.

  “Why not? They meet all the requirements we need. They’re large, and many of them have both indoor and outdoor facilities. We could have the meal inside and hold dancing and the auction on the grounds. It would be different.”

  His unreadable expression was unnerving.

  “So?” Monica asked.

  He folded the brochure and placed it in the middle of the table. “I like it,” he said with a shrug.

  “That’s it? You like it?” Monica replied, imitating his shrug.

  “Like you said, it’s different. I don’t know how renting out an entire plantation home compares in price to a ballroom, but if we can pull it off, I say we go for it.”

  “I had not anticipated it being this easy, Dr. Holmes.”

  “I don’t make a habit out of being difficult, unlike some people.” That was a direct shot. “And would you please call me Eli?”

  Okay, maybe she deserved that. He had not done anything to warrant her caustic behavior. Monica thought for a minute; was it possible the impact of Patrick’s deception had clouded her judgment when it came to men?

  Eli wasn’t so bad. In fact, he wasn’t bad at all. Despite his obvious playboy appeal, and his refusal to include female doctors in his pool of dating candidates, he was a nice guy. Well...for the most part. It would take her a long time to forget that encounter over the preeclampsia patient.

  “Do you have a particular site in mind?” he asked, causing Monica to lose her train of thought. “A plantation home? Do you know which one you want?” he continued.

  “Not really, I figured I’d visit a few more this weekend.”

  “That sounds good. Do you mind if I tag along?”

  “You want to spend your Saturday looking at plantations?” She had a hard enough time not feeling like a nervous schoolgirl around him while at the hospital. Monica wasn’t sure she was ready to handle Eli outside of the safe confines of their workplace.

  “What’s wrong with that? It’s what you’ll be doing.”

  “I just thought a guy like you would have more to do with his weekend.”

  “Your image of me is so wrong. Although, you’re right, I do have something to do this weekend, and I was hoping you could join me.”

  “What’s that?” Monica asked, already feeling uncomfortable.

  Eli wiped at the corners of his mouth with a napkin, bunched it up and threw it over his nearly cleared plate.

  “My niece has a birthday party Saturday afternoon. Alex is throwing a small get together at the house. It’ll be the perfect chance to introduce you to my family.”

  “Oh, God. You mean I’m already meeting the parents?”

  “That’s the point of this, right? And it’s just my mother. My dad died nearly twenty years ago.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said.

  “Thanks,” he said with another shrug. “There are a few things you should know about Mama. Even though she looks as if she could be a resident of Munchkin Land in the Wizard of Oz, she can be a little inti
midating at times. Whatever you do, show no fear.”

  “She sounds scary.”

  “She’s going to love you.”

  Monica gave him a skeptical look. “What makes you so sure?”

  “You’re female and you’re breathing,” he answered. “The fact that you’re talented and beautiful will have her ready to break out into song.”

  He had just referred to her as talented and beautiful.

  With anyone else, Monica would have latched onto the praise of her talent, but for some reason, the fact that Elijah Holmes found her attractive meant a hundred times more. The strangeness of it scared her. His thoughts of her beauty should not mean anything to her. But it did. Flutters of giddy excitement continued to dance around in her stomach.

  “So, when do you want to meet?” Monica asked.

  “Is eleven okay? I’m covering part of Dr. Langois’s shift, so I’ll be getting in pretty late Friday night and I’m hooking up with my brother for our weekly basketball game Saturday morning. I can handle leaving out a little earlier, but I know you want me fresh and alert for tours,” he finished with a grin.

  “What time does the party start?”

  “Three, I think. I’ll have to check with Alex. We can get there around four or so. That should give us enough time to check out some of the closer plantation homes.”

  “Are you sure about this?” Monica asked. She would have never guessed he would get involved in the actual banquet planning. If Monica had known mentioning the plantation idea would place her alone in a car with Elijah Holmes, she would have kept her mouth shut.

  “Of course, I’m sure,” Eli answered.

  “Okay, then. Eleven it is. Do you want to meet at the hospital?”

  “I can pick you up at your place.”

  “Ah...um, well, okay.” Did she really want Eli knowing where she lived? Monica looked across the table at his cocoa brown face and mellow, copper-colored eyes. Oh, he was dangerous all right.

  Before Eli could comment further, Monica rose from the table. “I need to get back to the ER,” she explained as she fidgeted with the clasp on her purse.

  He rose from his seat, retrieved his wallet from his back pocket and threw a twenty on the table. “I’ve got you covered.”

  Oh, no, he was not footing the bill. Not with half the hospital trying to inconspicuously examine every move they made.

  “I’ll pay for my own lunch, Dr. Holmes.”

  “Would you stop calling me that?” His snappish response took Monica by surprise. He lowered his voice an octave, but it did nothing to conceal his agitation. “You don’t want anything other than a professional relationship when we’re not around my family? Fine. I get it. But even strictly professional colleagues share enough camaraderie to exist on a first name basis.”

  “Does this really bother you that much?” she asked, dumbfounded.

  “As a matter of fact, it does. In front of patients we should stick to doctor, but at lunch?”

  “If it’s that much of an issue, I’ll call you Elijah from now on.”

  “Eli.”

  “I’ll agree to Elijah,” Monica said. “Let me work my way to Eli.”

  He smiled.

  Her knees went weak.

  Methodist Memorial’s Psychiatry department needed to take a Polaroid of that smile and pass it to patients suffering from Major Depression. How could anyone’s spirits not be lifted by that man’s gorgeous smile?

  Monica handed him a ten-dollar bill to cover her half of lunch. He stuffed his hands in his pockets.

  “I told you I could take care of my own lunch,” she said.

  He lifted one shoulder with a half-hearted shrug, “Why should you if I’ve already paid for it?”

  “Because I don’t want you paying for it.”

  “Are you this difficult all the time?”

  “When it comes to stuff like this? Yes.”

  “Why? You want to show the world that you’re your own woman, that you don’t need a man buying you lunch?”

  Monica was a second away from putting her hands on her hips and going off on him.

  “That’s fine,” Eli held up his hands. “Be independent. But don’t turn down a free lunch; because, you see, since I paid today, I’ll be expecting you to pay for lunch on Saturday. And I can guarantee it will be more expensive than a plate of red beans and rice from Ethel’s.”

  “So, this is your way of getting off cheap?”

  “Got that right. I know how to take advantage of a good deal when I see one. There’s more to me than just a handsome face,” he said with a wink.

  Okay, Psychiatry could use both the smile and wink in their therapy. The combination could quite possibly cure every case of depression in America.

  They started toward the exit. Patty gave her a sly smile as Monica passed her table. She would have to start devising a plausible explanation for this lunch right now. As innocent as it was, there’s no way the truth would fly with Patty.

  “I’ll pay for lunch on Saturday. I’m sure we can find a McDonald’s.”

  “I’ve got a strict policy that prevents me from eating at any establishment with a drive-thru window,” Eli answered. He held the door open for her.

  “Then something tells me you are going to be pretty hungry come Saturday,” Monica answered.

  “Well, if you feed me McDonalds for lunch, that just means I’ll have to take you somewhere proper for dinner.”

  She looked up at him. The ten inches he had on her made him just the right height. Monica desperately needed to find a credible flaw, because as of now, Elijah Holmes seemed perfect. And who in their right mind would say no to the perfect man?

  Monica turned fully around in the opened door. She crossed her arms over her chest and said, “You just won’t stop until you get me to accept a dinner invitation, will you?”

  “Now you’re getting the picture,” he answered with that smile she was starting to anticipate. Monica had come to accept the fact that few things on this Earth were as startling as Eli’s smile.

  Yet the question remained: why was he so persistent? She agreed to meet his family on Saturday, which fulfilled part of the obligation of their deal. Why did he insist on dinner Saturday night?

  The conflicting stories were starting to confuse her. Either every nurse in the ER was wrong, or Elijah Holmes was throwing everything he’d held strong out the window. But would he really do that just for the chance to have dinner with her?

  The thought was too delicious to contemplate.

  Just as she was about to walk out the door, Eli caught her by the arm and turned her to face him.

  “So,” he asked.

  Feminine ego won out over common sense.

  “Fine,” Monica said. “On Saturday, I pick the lunch venue and you pick where we go for dinner.”

  The corners of Eli’s eyes crinkled with his smile. “Hmm, maybe I won’t be lying to Mama, after all. It sounds to me like we’re officially dating, Doctor.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Eli laced up his white Nikes, then brought both hands over his head and stretched. He rocked from side to side, loosening his oblique muscles.

  “Would you quit with the workout, Jane Fonda,” Alex called as he approached him on the outdoor court. His older brother hurled a basketball at his midsection. “I’ve got about an hour before I have to be at the site.”

  “What’s up with you, man? You trying to kill me?” Eli rubbed his stomach. “Why do you have to get there so early? You’re the boss. You should have the best hours of anyone on the job.”

  Eli dribbled the ball, then stepped back and sunk a jump shot.

  “Since the storm hit, Holmes Construction has more jobs lined up than we’ve had since I stared the business. And if it’s going to grow, I’ve got to be there to make sure everything’s running smoothly. I’m not leaving my livelihood in just anybody’s hands. Besides—” Alex faked right and went around Eli, laying the ball up and in the basket. “What else would I
be doing?”

  Eli caught the ball with both hands. “I’m tired of trying to convince you of what any healthy, normal man would be doing.”

  Alex rolled his eyes, clearly indicating that Eli had better not go there.

  “Anyway, I don’t have time to worry about your love life,” Eli said as he waited for Alex to take another shot. “I’ve got enough problems with my own.”

  “What kind of problem? Is Alicia back?”

  “No, thank God. I haven’t heard from her since the weekend.” Eli gripped the ball with his left palm then switched to his right, swooshing past his brother with a cross over that would have made Allen Iverson proud. “Damn, I’m good,” he said when the ball floated through the hoop.

  Alexander bent over, his fists resting on the front of his thighs. He was already winded. Eli bounced the ball off his back.

  “You need to get in shape, Dawg.”

  That, of course, was a lie. With the hard manual labor Alex put into his construction business, Eli couldn’t think of anyone in better shape than his brother. It was age that was probably catching up with him, that and his work environment. A thirty-seven-year-old who worked on dusty construction sites all day couldn’t have the same lung capacity as he did as a seventeen-year-old.

  “Kiss my ass,” Alex puffed out. He threw the ball back at Eli. “If Alicia’s not bothering you then what’s the problem?”

  “We’ve got a new doc in the ER.”

  “And?”

  “Let me rephrase that,” Eli said. His ball rimmed out. Alex beat him to the rebound. “We’ve got a new Victoria’s Secret model-caliber doc in the ER.”

  “Ah,” Alex said. He stood under the goal, balancing the ball on his hip. Eli wasn’t falling for it. He knew his brother was just trying to catch his breath.

  They played for another twenty minutes. Eli banked his shot and decided to let Alex off the hook. “That’s ten. We need to stop it here. I have to get back to the hospital.”

  “If you really want to stop,” Alex puffed out between labored breaths.

  They walked toward the nine-foot fence that surrounded the court. Eli retrieved two towels and a couple bottles of water from the gym bag he’d propped against the fence. He passed a towel and bottle to Alex. They both slumped to the ground, their backs against the chain-link fence.