After the Night (Romance for all Seasons Book 1)

by Sandra Marie

  The Queen gasped and flew a dramatic hand to her giant chest. Her long nails sparkled with red and black gems. The Queen leaned down to Dr. Bateman, her lips nearly touching his ear lobe. His face could probably boil an egg as she whispered something most likely entirely inappropriate and hilarious.

  He let out a laugh that filled Cassidy’s stomach with butterflies and memories. Her heart thumped, and her brows pulled inward. She’d already ruled out Dr. Bateman as a possible Westley, since he hadn’t been at the party and all, and the way they’d interacted certainly wasn’t like two people who’d had a night together. Maybe she was just remembering that laugh from earlier that day when he’d caught her singing in the billing office.

  “So,” the Queen said loud enough for the whole table to hear, but still flirting with Dr. Bateman. “What do you do, hunny?”

  Cassidy’s gaze flicked down to his hand running up and down his thigh. His smile might have seemed relaxed, but his posture and fidgeting said otherwise. Cassidy cracked a grin; it was nice seeing doctors thrown off their game.

  “I’m an obstetrician,” he said, a twinkle in his green eyes, almost as if he couldn’t wait to hear what she’d come up with for a response. The Queen let out a loud laugh and set a hand on his shoulder.

  “So much for that doctor/patient fantasy playing out with you.”

  Laughter rang across their table, and as it subsided, another Queen introduced herself as Charisma Cox—which elicited a little more laughter—and took their orders.

  As the two Queen disappeared to entertain other groups, dodging through the orange, black, and red streamers, glittery spiders, and glow-in-the-dark cobwebs, Cassidy settled in, resting her elbows on the bright white tablecloth that lit up like the sun under the blacklights, and she ignored the accidental brush against Dr. Bateman’s arm. She’d never seen him out of scrubs and a lab coat, and if she wasn’t already intimidated by the man, she definitely was now with him in his jeans and t-shirt. His arms were unexpectedly toned, but not overly muscular. And she liked his arm hair.

  Arm hair. What a thing to be attracted to.

  Did her Westley have good arm hair? She couldn’t remember. Oh, but they’d been covered.

  Nat, Julie, and Rebecca were all chatting about their kids, their teeth bright under the lighting, and Cassidy grinned along, with nothing really to contribute. Unless her parents counted as her kids, which sometimes it felt that way. That reminded her… She pulled her phone out and shot a text to her mother, telling her she’d made it okay and was out to dinner.

  “I’ve got to do that, too,” Dr. Bateman said, nodding to her text.

  “Reading over my shoulder?” she said, surprising herself with the tease in her voice.

  “Returning the favor.”

  “Looks like I can keep it in my hand,” she said, waving the phone, but her confidence was a bit premature, and it wobbled out of her fingers and thunked against the tabletop.

  “Clearly,” Dr. Bateman said through his laughter. He leaned to the side, and Cassidy’s eyes went straight to his butt as he retrieved his phone from his back pocket. The doctor could give Steve Rogers a run for his money.

  Heat flamed through her cheeks, and she slammed her eyes shut. Dr. Bateman was her boss. She needed to set that boundary up and stop ogling him. If the Queen’s weren’t as bad as her, she had a problem.

  “Hmm,” he grunted as he eyed his broken screen.

  “Don’t cut yourself, now,” she teased.

  “Trying to decide if it’s worth the risk.”

  “Mommy worried about you?”

  His lip turned up. “She’d be proud I was out. Sending a picture of this place might get her off my case for a bit.”

  Cassidy’s smile faded, her memory fighting to break through. Didn’t Westley have an overly involved mother?

  She pulled her phone off the table and clicked the camera on. “Smile,” she said cheerfully, scooting in close to take a selfie with him and a few Queens in the background. The blacklights gave the whole thing a Halloween feel, and she was so proud her teeth shined as brightly as his. She opened her mouth wide and tilted her head, and he followed suit with his own goofy face—crossed eyes and tongue hanging out.

  “Are you on Snapchat?” she asked, pulling the phone down and internally grinning at their fun photo. “I can send it to you.”

  “Uh…”

  “Instagram? Twitter?”

  He gave her a sheepish grin. “Facebook.”

  She pressed her lips together and opened up Messenger to search for him. She’d forgotten there was a little bit of a generation gap between them; of course Facebook was his choice of social media. And dating apps, apparently, from what she’d seen earlier.

  She typed in Doctor Bateman before his laughter cut her off.

  “I have a first name, you know.”

  His face was so close she could count the hairs in his smile line. The scent of aftershave and heaven wafted over her and made her lose coherency for a moment.

  “I figured you’d be bragging about your degree,” she said, playing off her momentary stupidity. She cleared the search and typed in Jon Bateman. “Is your profile picture Fix-It Felix?” Her amusement couldn’t be masked, and he set a pair of defensive eyes on her.

  “Wreck-It Ralph is a fantastic movie.”

  She put her hand up and sent a friend request along with the selfie she’d just taken. “Who am I to judge? I have the Avengers lined up on my desk.”

  Actually, she traded them out for luck. Hawkeye needed to retire when she got back; whatever magic juju he’d produced over the last week was well running out.

  The lights changed and dimmed, and the diners started clapping and cheering. Cassidy joined in, excitement bubbling in her stomach. She couldn’t wait to see the doc’s reaction… and secretly hoped Lady Tata would rope him onstage.

  Halfway through the first song, Cassidy’s phone vibrated across the tabletop. Shellie. She ignored the call and shot her a text.

  At dinner. What’s up?

  Cassidy’s leg bounced as she waited for a response, and a snort bellowed out of her nose as Lady Tata spotted Dr. Bateman and pointed directly at him.

  More money missing. Call me ASAP.

  As much as Cassidy wanted to see the doc’s blush as he was ravished by drag queens, she let out a sigh and leaned over to Julie to let her know where she was going.

  She dialed Shellie back and made her way to the much quieter ladies room. She picked up before the second ring.

  “Another wonky balance for Bateman,” Shellie said without a hello. “I’ve gone through all the coding, and the insurance approved eighty percent with a five-hundred deductible.”

  “Cesarean benefit?” Cassidy asked, wrinkling her nose at a questionable stain in the sink. She slowly moved toward the other end of the counter.

  “Yep, same. Insurance sent me a voided copy of the check, which matches the one we deposited, but we billed it under seventy percent, and the bottom line evened out.”

  “Who put the payment in?”

  Shellie paused. “System says you did.”

  Confusion pulled at Cassidy’s brow. “This was today?”

  “Yeah.”

  A wrecking ball crashed into her, and she put her hand right into a wet spot on the counter.

  “I haven’t given anyone my login information,” she promised, trapping her phone between her ear and shoulder. Whatever she stuck her hand in needed to come off now.

  “I know. I don’t know if this is a system error or a coding issue or…”

  Or someone stealing from the company and framing me for it. Cassidy blew out a sigh and stuck her hands under the dryer. “What time did it get logged?”

  “Noon.”

  That was unusual. Hallie and Bethany were way too lazy to stick around during lunch, let alone actually working through it.

  “I’ll log in when I get back to the hotel and look into it.”

  The phone fuzzed with Shelli
e’s breath of relief. “Thank you. I’ve been here since eight, and my brain is fried.”

  “You’re still at the office?” With two providers gone, the office should’ve closed up around five. It was nearly seven, and Cassidy would bet Shellie was surviving off of the suckers they kept up at reception. “Geez, go home and get some food. We’ll figure this out.”

  “I hope so. Can you imagine this getting out? New doctors beware! This billing manager loses your money!”

  “This isn’t your fault.” Shellie was the best thing that could’ve happened to the billing department, whether she knew it or not. Cassidy had less headaches the moment she’d stepped into the manager role.

  Shellie didn’t respond, just let out another long sigh like she’d had a day she’d rather not relive. Cassidy bit her tongue; if only she’d sent someone else to this boring-as-hell conference, Cassidy would be back with her solving the case right now.

  “Go home and play with Bob.”

  “He needs batteries.”

  Cassidy laughed. “I meant your cat.”

  “Sure you did.” At least she seemed in better spirits. “Let me know if you get any closer to solving this crap tonight.”

  “You got it, boss.”

  They said their goodbyes, and Cassidy tapped her phone into her open palm and played with the corner of her bottom lip. She was changing her password the second she got back to the hotel. Ten percent of a c-section charge was no small amount, and this most likely wasn’t the first one gone missing. Dumb and Dumber didn’t seem the type to steal money from the company… at least on purpose. Unless the whole naivety was an act. If so, they were pros.

  She tried to shake off the confusion around the whole thing and stepped back out to the dining floor where the show was now in full force. Lady Tata, Bouncy Knowles, and Giselle were all on stage, singing perfect harmonies to “Boy is a Bottom” around a beet red and totally handsome face.

  Dr. Bateman’s eyes could not get any wider with each suggestive lyric, and his smile was equally embarrassed and adorable. Cassidy let out a small laugh and leaned against the restroom doorway. Was he not sure what to do with his hands? They were dead weights on his thighs, his back straight as a board, his fingers curled over his knees. Bouncy Knowles bent forward to do her solo part, singing to him through perfectly painted lips and wrapping him up in an orange boa decorated with fuzzy black spiders. His smile curved upward, and when the mic turned to him, he shyly finished the lyric, much to the joy of the audience. Nat was using her napkin to wipe the happy tears from her cheeks.

  What a fabulous sport. The docs were all outgoing and never shy, and when new providers were brought in, the group either scared them away or slowly converted them. Dr. Bateman struck her as someone willing to try new things, even if they scared him. Not a bad quality, if Cassidy did say so herself.

  The song wrapped up, and Cassidy stuck her fingers in her mouth and blew a loud wolf whistle, heart skipping as his eyes met hers across the room. She clapped toward him, nodding emphatically at his performance. He stood and took a bow with flair, even if his ears were still bright red.

  Cassidy licked her lips, heart now pounding against her ear drums. It was a good thing she had a lot of work ahead to distract her; she did not have time for wishes and fantasies of the young doctor turning out to be her Westley—wishful thinking, since he hadn’t even been there. That would be way too good to be true, and her brain was not going to let her entertain the idea only to be let down.

  A rumbling filled Jon’s ears, and a fuzzy bear appeared in his field of vision. It crawled slowly toward his slice of pizza, and he sharply tugged the food toward him. That thing would get his pizza over his dead body.

  Another rumble sounded through the air, and Jon turned to run from the beast only to find himself at the edge of a cliff. His feet teetered on the edge, a deep swoop of dread flying through his stomach as he lost his balance.

  The world dropped, and a snort shook his eyes open. The legs of his chair slammed back to the ground, steadying him before he fell flat on his ass in the first class of the day.

  Quiet laughter surrounded him, and he blinked his groggy eyes around the room, his brain slowly catching up to where he was.

  They weren’t kidding about this conference. Not a half hour in and he had zonked out.

  He rubbed his eyes and leaned against the desk, tempted to take a swig from the coffee cup of his desk mate. He wasn’t a coffee person, really, but he was going to need it before the next session.

  A soft flump hit him in the head, and he furrowed his brow, reaching up and rubbing the spot. He turned, eyes searching the room until they stopped on Cassidy’s. Her gaze was a shot of caffeine, better than any coffee buzz, and he quirked a grin and let his heart rate thump right up to a hundred beats per minute.

  She pointed with her mustache-tattooed finger at the desk where a crumpled piece of paper rested. Well, wasn’t that an oldie move? She didn’t think he was ancient, did she? He was capable of texting; he was a pro at swiping left, after all.

  Or was it right? He couldn’t remember. He hadn’t taken his phone out since he’d fallen asleep gazing at that goofy picture they’d taken together.

  He pulled the paper to the edge of the desk and opened it in his lap like a middle schooler in English class, hoping not to get caught by the teacher and have the note read aloud. It would be more embarrassing than being serenaded by drag queens with a butt song.

  It’s only day one and you’re sleeping? How are you gonna survive this week???

  The rest of the page was filled with a comic that was drawn amazingly well. It was him in class, organizing his desk with a pen and paper, laptop up, clock on the wall reading 9:00. The next box was him zonked out and drooling, the clock reading 9:01. The next box was an award ceremony for the Doctors of America, and there were a bunch of Zzzz’s coming from all the tables.

  He glanced over his shoulder at her, biting his laughter away. Her eyes studied him, probably making sure she was okay teasing her boss like this. She had no idea he’d keep this piece of paper for the rest of his life, tucked away with all his other precious treasures—like his Disney collection.

  His fingers ran over the desktop and fumbled for his notepad. He was no artist, but that wasn’t going to stop him from attempting his own little comic. He drew a stick figure with a phone and a cane. A dialogue bubble said, “I’m old, but I text good.” As soon as the teacher was distracted by the packet he was reading from, Jon turned and took a shot, chucking the crumpled paper hard enough he smacked her square in the forehead.

  He quickly turned back around and laughed into his chest, shaking silently, his heart and body as light as it had been at the party.

  It took all he had in him not to peek at her reaction. After a few minutes without getting struck again, he chanced a glance. She was bent over, scribbling with the paper inches from her glasses. She made faces when she drew, like she was trying to mimic the expressions her little characters were supposed to be making. He turned back around, grinning like a damn fool. How had he never noticed her before? Sure, they worked on separate ends of the office, but he’d run into her. She’d been eating in the break room a few times when he came in, but it was never more than a friendly hello and how’s your day going.

  Her aim was the same the second throw, bouncing off the side of his head and landing on the desk. He didn’t even check to see if they were in the clear with the instructor, snatching up the paper and smoothing it out against his leg.

  Another comic, this one with him and his cracked phone. It ended with his comic version’s thumbs squirting blood everywhere, and all that was texted on the phone was “Hi.”

  He covered his laugh, running his hand over his mouth. Before he could overthink it, he grabbed a new piece of paper and drew some stick figures going to the cell phone store, the girl stick figure forking out money up to her neck for a shiny new phone for him.

  He was rather impressed with his drawi
ng—it was no Monet, but it was better than his chicken scratch penmanship—and crumpled it up into a tight ball. When he turned, Cassidy had created a wall with a large coding book and her laptop, which she quickly ducked behind. She held a small sign that said, “Softly, please.”

  Damn it, he was falling again. He said he wouldn’t, but how could he not with how adorable she was, how fun, how quirky? What were the chances of him finding someone just like her on that app? Guess he’d find out during the stats class tomorrow afternoon.

  As soon as she poked her head up, he chucked the paper back at her. She let out a tiny squeal that earned everyone’s attention, including their instructor’s. A beautiful shade of pink flowed over her cheeks as she apologized for the interruption.

  “So sorry… there was a… bug.” She slapped the desk. “I got it.”

  Jon chuckled into his hand, and she gave him a playful, dirty look as she smoothed out his note. He waited the rest of the class for a response, but the buzzer went off, and he only had the two for keepsakes.

  She got to the door first, and his body warmed like the sun at the fact that she’d waited for him there.

  “I kept you awake at least,” she teased as they walked into the crowded hallway. “Next class you’re on your own.”

  “Maybe I can get someone else to smack me in the head every time I doze off.”

  “Nat should be with you. I’ll give her a head’s up.”

  Her hand swung down next to his, and it took everything in him not to grab hold of it. Luckily his phone buzzed, and he was able to grab that instead.

  Rae’s name and picture lit up the screen. He declined, but promised himself to call as soon as he wasn’t with Cassidy. Even if that meant taking it during the next class. Even better, actually.

  “You really do need a new phone.” Cassidy frowned and talked to her feet. “I can get you one at break.”

  He paused for just a second before blurting, “Is there a cell repair place around here?”