“About the twenty-five million?”
He nodded. “That’s what she mentioned to Santa. I’m happy to do that for her.”
“Excellent, but how will you make the donation personal?”
“What do you mean?” Wes asked.
“Most sizeable donations are sent by a check or bank transfer.”
“Sadie will figure out the logistics.”
“You just told me you wanted to be personally involved.”
Wes had. “But money is what Dr. Regis wants.”
“Maybe there’s something else she needs. Something for herself.”
Someday I want a husband, kids, dog, cat, and a house with a fenced yard. That’s how I envision my happily ever after.
Nope. That was beyond Wes. Besides, she hadn’t wanted that this year.
And then he had an idea. “She likes candy canes.”
Henry rolled his eyes. “A grand gesture isn’t necessary, but you need to do something more than give her sweets.”
Wes had zero ideas that didn’t involve giving her money. “This is hard.”
“The effort makes it more special.”
A minute passed. Maybe two.
Henry straightened. “Invite Dr. Regis to the dinner in Hood Hamlet on Saturday.”
Hood Hamlet was located on Mount Hood, approximately sixty miles from Portland. The quaint alpine-inspired small town was where he spent most weekends. The place was always charming but shined brightest during the holidays. The Christmas Magic in Hood Hamlet celebration began in the morning and culminated with a dinner and silent auction to benefit Oregon Mountain Search and Rescue and the Hood Hamlet Fire and Rescue’s Christmas Toy Drive. The fun festivities benefited two good causes.
Thinking about showing Dr. Regis the town sent a thrill shooting through Wes. Until he remembered. “Why would I do that? I’m taking a break from dating.”
Henry tsked. “Who said anything about a date? Dr. Regis can be your plus-one.”
That might work, except… “I might not go.”
“You purchased two tables of eight. We’ll all be there. Adam and Cambria, Blaise and Hadley, Brett and Laurel, Dash and Raina, Kieran and Selah, Mason and Rachael, me and a beautiful woman who will think she won the lottery being my date. Of course you’re going, and you’re bringing a guest.” Henry emphasized the last word. “Not a date.”
“The foundation—”
“Give your staff the night off. It’s time you represent the foundation yourself.”
Emotion clogged Wes’s throat.
“I understood why you didn’t want to attend anything when you were feeling so bad. Plus all the germs, but now…” Henry shook his head. “You are healthy, Wes. You have nothing to prove to anyone. Stop hiding as if something’s still wrong with you.”
Wes raised his chin. “I’m not hiding.”
“Good, because the dinner is the perfect place for Dr. Regis to make the connections she needs. Several, if not all of us, met her during your treatments and hospital stays, so this will be a great time to reintroduce her to everybody.”
Wait. Had Wes missed something? With Henry, anything was possible. “Why do I need to reintroduce Dr. Regis to people?”
“Remember when I donated this hospital wing?” Henry’s voice was louder than before. Two of the catering staff glanced over.
Wes ignored them. “Yes, and you named it after your parents.”
“This hospital is the one thing I’ve done in my life that might have made my mom and dad proud.” Henry’s sad tone matched the regret in his gaze. His parents had loved him, but both had wanted him to do more with his life than be a trust-fund baby. “But it wasn’t a single donation like I thought it would be. Changes to the plans—some necessary and not extravagant—cost more.”
“You paid for the overruns.”
“I was the sole benefactor for the project. I was happy to pay for whatever they needed,” Henry explained. “But the cancer center’s budget comes from multiple sources. That’s why Dr. Regis needs to become familiar with those in our circle. That way, she’ll have additional people to go to when more money is needed.”
When, not if.
The word wasn’t lost on Wes. “No one ever approached me for a donation to the cancer center.”
“You were in the middle of treatments.” Henry’s tone was softer now. Compassionate. “Asking you for money would have been tacky and inappropriate.”
Wes shrugged. Dr. Regis hadn’t asked him for a donation this time, either. She’d told a fake Santa what she needed. If she hadn’t, Wes wouldn’t know about it. “Did you donate to the cancer center?”
“Yes, and I’d give more now, but Brett has cut me off from additional charitable giving until January. This party and the presents for the patients was my last hurrah for the year. Other than the toy I’ll bring to the dinner on Saturday night.”
Wes laughed. Henry had been Brett’s first investment client, but their lifelong friendship was…complicated. “Giving away too much money again?”
“I have more than I could spend in several lifetimes, but you know Brett. He worries too much about my ability to maintain my lifestyle in the future.”
“That’s what a friend and financial advisor should do.”
“He’s annoying.” Henry sighed. “Can you believe Brett laughed when I told him I see myself as a modern-day Robin Hood?”
“Yes.” But no matter Brett’s concerns, Henry was the most generous person Wes knew. Given their friend group, that was saying something. “You realize you’re stealing from yourself.”
“Semantics. The gesture is the same. Or will be again, once the new year arrives.” Henry tilted his head, motioning to his right. “Dr. Regis is back. Now’s your chance to make a donation and invite her to the dinner.”
Butterflies set flight in Wes’s stomach. An unexpected reaction because talking with Dr. Regis was business. Nothing else. “Okay.”
“Let me know what she says about both,” Henry whispered in a conspiratorial tone. “I’m off to Brett and Laurel’s house. I want to see Noelle before she goes to bed.”
Henry was Noelle’s godfather, and he adored the little girl. On his way out, he said something to Dr. Regis.
She laughed.
The melodic sound smacked into Wes like a sucker punch.
The butterflies in his stomach quadrupled or maybe they doubled in size or turned into helicopters. The reaction surprised him. When he’d been her patient, he’d noticed she was attractive. He had been sick, but he was still a man. He also might have had a crush—albeit a slight one—when she’d been so dedicated and focused on helping him kick the cancer to the curb. Something she’d done like a real-life superhero minus the cape.
But he’d never analyzed or thought much about her looks. Now, he couldn’t stop noticing everything about her.
How when she laughed, her nose crinkled at the top. That her blue eyes shone bright like precious gemstones. The way her wide smile lit up her heart-shaped face with a radiant glow. And her full, pink lips…
He blinked.
What was he doing? What was he thinking?
Dr. Regis was a professional. She’d saved his life. Sure, attractive no longer seemed the right adjective to describe her, but she deserved better than him leering.
As she headed his way, his muscles twitched.
What was wrong with him? He’d known Dr. Regis for over two years. She’d seen him at his worst. The realization immediately humbled him.
Embarrassed him.
Even if Wes wanted to date—which he didn’t—he wouldn’t want to go out with someone who knew his weaknesses, had watched him fall apart more than once, and had seen him sob.
Her smile wavered, but only for a second. “You’re still here.”
“So are you.” Wes fought the urge to grimace. That wasn’t the most eloquent response. At least he hadn’t called her dude as Dash often did. “I thought you left.”
“A patient’s parents couldn’t
be here today,” she explained. “I went to his room with him for a few minutes.”
He respected how she showed the same kindness and compassion to people whether or not they were her patients. “Was that the little boy you were coloring with?”
Great, now Wes sounded like he was stalking her. He should forget wanting to do more and just send a check before he made a bigger fool out of himself.
“Yes, his name is Dalton. He’s very sweet,” she said. “Artistic, too. His picture came out nicer than mine.”
“He paid a visit to Santa.” Dalton had told Santa the only thing he wanted was to have his family together for Christmas, but that request wasn’t to be shared with anyone, including Dr. Regis.
“I bet he mentioned his family to you,” she said.
Not only intelligent, but perceptive. Wes nodded.
“He misses them,” she continued. “But Christmas is still seventeen days away. Lots can happen between now and then.”
Wes wondered if she was only talking about Dalton. “Are you spending the holidays with your family?”
“No. I’m on call this year.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be,” she replied quickly. “It’s part of the job. I’ll still have a nice holiday.”
Wes glanced at her ring finger. Bare. That made him curious. “With your boyfriend?”
“No boyfriend.” She laughed, more of a nervous giggle than amusement over his question. “I suppose that’s the first step to having a husband, so maybe I should have asked Santa for one of those.”
“I can help you out.”
Her eyes widened, and her mouth dropped open, but no words came out.
He realized what he’d said.
“I meant with the other thing you wanted. Not a boyfriend. A donation.” Just shoot him now because he appeared hopeless where Dr. Regis was concerned. “I want to help you with the cancer center.”
“Wonderful, while having a boyfriend might be nice, the cancer center is my priority, so thank you.” Excitement filled her eyes. “What do you have in mind?”
People were still cleaning up. Rachael Reese watched him closely. She would report back to Mason, who would ask about what his wife mentioned on their group chat, and then everyone would have questions. That had happened to Blaise when he first met Hadley and when Dash went out with Raina. The same thing occurred with Adam, Kieran, and Mason and their respective girlfriends-now wives.
No, thanks.
“Do you have time to grab a coffee?” That would give them a place to talk with no one trying to eavesdrop. Not that Rachael was. Yet. “I remember a place not too far away.”
“I’m free,” Paige said. “There’s a coffee shop half a block from here that’s open late.”
“Sounds great. Ready to go?”
She nodded. “I just need to grab my purse on our way out.”
Ten minutes later, Wes sat across from her at a small round table tucked in a back corner. He sipped his Americano.
“I would have taken you for the caramel macchiato type.” He eyed her mug, which was topped with whipped cream, chocolate sprinkles, and a candy cane. “Not peppermint hot chocolate.”
“It’s a Christmas drink. Not as traditional as eggnog, but a close second.”
She took a sip. When she lowered her mug from her mouth, a dollop of whipped cream stuck to her upper lip.
Wes shouldn’t be staring or wishing he could help her with it. He tried to look away, but he couldn’t. Fighting the urge to wipe it off, he handed her a napkin. “You have whipped cream on your mouth.”
“That always happens with these drinks.” She patted her face with the napkin. “But it’s worth it.”
Glad she thought so. Wes never imagined himself envying a napkin, especially when he wasn’t interested in dating. Since Annabelle, he’d been on one date set up by a matchmaker—Blaise Mortenson’s misguided attempt to win the last-single-man-standing bet. Wes had done his duty as a friend and gone out with a woman, but his heart hadn’t been in it. He didn’t want—couldn’t have—anyone in his life. Not like that.
“Nice place,” he said.
“I come here a lot.”
The cozy setting with low lighting and soft instrumental versions of Christmas carols playing would be perfect for a date. “After work?”
“All the time. My condo is around the corner.”
“I had no idea you lived this close.” And then it hit him. Why would he? Wes only knew what was written on the oncology practice’s website’s bio. He’d been focused on himself at his appointments. He’d never thought to ask about her. “Do you walk to the hospital?”
She nodded. “It’s faster than driving because of parking.”
“That would be convenient.”
“For me, yes. I’m guessing you work as much at home as you do at your office.”
“I used to,” he admitted. “I’ve been working less since…”
Wes sipped his coffee. He hadn’t wanted to bring up the cancer. She’d probably had enough of that.
“I’m happy to hear you’re finding more balance,” she said. “It’s something many people struggle with.”
“You?”
Her mouth slanted. “More than I care to admit.”
“And living this close…”
“As you said, convenient, but it has drawbacks, too.”
He set his drink on the table. “The center will bring more work.”
“At the beginning, yes. There are times I feel I’m wearing multiple hats besides my doctor one, but once we are fully staffed, my involvement in the actual project will lessen.”
Was that why she talked about “someday” for the other things she wanted? That would make sense, though it was none of his business. But something else was. “So let’s discuss your cancer center, Dr. Regis.”
“Please, call me Paige.”
“Paige.” Wes liked how the name sounded. “I want to donate twenty-five million dollars.”
Her lips parted. “You… Really? Just like that?”
Her dumbfounded expression was cute. “I need to run this by my foundation, but yes. Just like that.”
“I…” Her eyes gleamed. “Thank you. There’s so much more I should say, but my brain isn’t functioning at the moment.”
Wes understood because he was having trouble, too. He wanted to celebrate with a hug, but he ignored the urge. “I’d also like to do something else.”
“Twenty-five million is plenty.” The words shot out. Her jaw tensed. “I know I’m supposed to say I’ll graciously accept whatever you want to do, but fundraising is hard for me. I prefer working for what I want, not having to ask someone for it.”
He respected her work ethic. “With the center, you don’t have a choice.”
She nodded. “But I don’t want you to feel obligated—”
“I don’t,” he said before she could finish. This was more about her than his being sick. “The cancer center will fulfill a need. That’s why I’m donating.”
“Okay, thanks.”
“The center may need more donations if the plans change or you need to implement a new technology. Assets aren’t always liquid, which could stop me or Henry from helping. That’s why I want you to get to know friends of mine. You met them briefly when I was having treatments, but I want to reintroduce you. Not at the hospital though.”
“Okay. Wow.” Her smile reached her eyes. “That sounds wonderful. Tell me when.”
“Saturday. There’s a fundraising dinner in Hood Hamlet. Everyone will be there.”
She checked her phone. “I’m not on call, so all I need to know is the time and location.”
“Great.”
Paige nodded. “I’ve heard Hood Hamlet is a charming small town.”
“I own a house there.” That gave Wes an idea. “You should drive up in the morning and make a day of it. I can show you around. The dinner is only one part of the Christmas Magic in Hood Hamlet celebration. There’s caroling, hor
se-drawn sleigh rides, cookie decorating, a craft bazaar, chocolate tasting, and a snow-sculpture contest.”
“Sounds like something from a Christmas movie.”
“That’s exactly what it is.”
“Then I’ll enjoy it because I’m addicted to a certain cable channel during the holidays.”
“You’ll love Hood Hamlet.”
“I can’t wait.” She sounded breathless, but she had every right to be tonight. “Twenty-five million dollars, an intro to the movers and shakers in the Silicon Forest, and a day exploring a small-town holiday celebration. Are you really Santa Claus in disguise, pretending to be a billionaire?”
That made him laugh. “I’m just Wes. The suit belongs to Henry. But I enjoyed playing Kris Kringle so much, I might have to be a secret Santa this year.”
“Too late,” she quipped. “You’re already my not-so-secret Santa. But I’m sure no one will complain if you want to keep it up.”
He laughed.
So did she.
Then they both sipped their drinks.
Wes hadn’t felt so lighthearted in… He couldn’t remember the last time. He lowered his coffee and unlocked his phone before handing it to her. “Before I forget, give me your number.”
She tapped on the screen. A second later a beep sounded from her purse. “Now we have each other’s contact info.”
“Thanks.” He placed his cell phone in his pocket. “I’ll speak with the head of my foundation to find out how we proceed with the donation, and then I’ll be in touch about that and Hood Hamlet.”
“Perfect,” she said.
Wes had the feeling everything, including this coming weekend, would be perfect. And he couldn’t wait.
CHAPTER FOUR
Perfect.
The word described how Paige felt about hearing Wes would be in touch with her, but it also described what sitting with him in her favorite coffee shop felt like. The night couldn’t get any better. She wiggled her toes.
The twenty-five-million-dollar donation would make her Christmas wish come true. His wanting her to get to know his affluent friends could help the cancer center in the future. And having the undivided attention of a hot billionaire tonight didn’t suck.
This wasn’t a date, but she imagined the same scenario happening in one of the holiday movies she loved to watch. Wes could easily be a leading man with his thick, dark hair, classically handsome features, expressive hazel eyes, and an easy smile. His gray peacoat hung off the back of his chair. His V-neck black sweater hugged his chest and arms, showing off a fit physique.
The Wish Maker (The Billionaires 0f Silicon Forest Book 2) Page 4