Juan held out a white paper bag. “Hola, have you eaten yet? I brought you a toasted bagel with cream cheese. Sesame, your favorite. And the crazy Brazilian comedy I was telling you about. We can discuss it tonight over Chinese if you like,” he said, blushing.
“Thanks, Juan. That was kind of you. But tonight’s going to be impossible.” Claudia glanced over her shoulder with trepidation. She worried about the impression they were giving Bobby, chatting as if they were dating. She had only met Juan a week ago and she had certainly done nothing to encourage him. Now the love struck kid was bringing her breakfast and a movie to watch over Chinese food!
Juan followed her uneasy gaze. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t know you have company.”
Bobby rose from the sofa and ambled to the door, every muscle in his six foot two build possessively flexed as he gave Juan a measured look. “I’m not company. I’m Claudia’s husband.” He lifted Mikey. “And this is our son.”
Poor Juan turned beet red. “Oh. Nice to meet you. I’m Juan Ramirez. Uh, Paolo’s neighbor.” He swayed on unsteady feet before Bobby’s ferocious, territorial stare, clutching the take-out bag to his chest as if it were a life vest. “I guess I’d better get going.”
“You guessed right,” Bobby said.
“Adiós, Juan. I’ll tell Paolo you stopped by. Again, that was very nice of you,” she said, trying to smooth things over for Juan’s sake—and hers. Bobby looked incensed.
“You shouldn’t have been rude to him,” Claudia said when Juan left. “Juan is a friend, nothing else.”
“He’s a lovesick kid,” Bobby said bluntly, “and you shouldn’t be encouraging him.”
You are a jealous man, Claudia thought with a glimmer of satisfaction. “I don’t encourage him. Juan is a really nice guy and we’re friends, that’s all. He is friendly with Paolo, too, as are all of our neighbors.”
“Where is your suitcase?” Bobby asked, changing the subject. Claudia followed his gaze as he glanced around Paolo’s apartment that was cluttered with baby items.
“It’s in the closet. Why?”
The fevered glint in Bobby’s blue eyes held her captive. “We need some time alone to reconnect. I’ve booked us a suite at the Mandarin where these ‘friendly’ neighbors can leave us the hell alone.”
Claudia stared at him in surprise. The Mandarin Oriental was one of the coolest hotels in Miami where the rich and famous hung out.
“Why don’t you ask Señora Fuentes to watch Mikey for a couple of hours?” he suggested.
Nothing would have pleased her more than time alone with her estranged husband. “I wish I could,” Claudia lamented. “But I can’t just leave Mikey like that. I’m nursing him and in a few hours he’s going to wake up ravenous for his next feeding.”
Bobby’s gaze dipped to his wife’s milk-engorged breasts. “No wonder,” he murmured, the corners of his mouth turning upward. “Looks like there’s plenty of milk.”
“There is. Mikey is thriving,” she said proudly. She hid a smile. Bobby was a breast man and the look in his eyes said he loved how her full breasts were nearly doubled in size.
With a wry shake of his head, Bobby tore his gaze away from Claudia’s bosom. “Where do you and Mikey sleep?”
“In Paolo’s room,” Claudia said with a guilty pang. “I feel bad about it, but Paolo still insists on sleeping on the couch. I’m afraid Mikey and I have turned his bachelor pad into a nursery.”
“I’m going to find us a big, comfortable apartment.” Bobby eyed her and then said cautiously, “There’s something else you should know. And before you start getting upset, I want you to listen to reason.”
Every fine hair on her body stood on end. “What are you talking about?” she asked in a shaky voice.
Bobby exhaled deeply. “My shift is over. I will be here for six months.” He paused. “Then I have to leave again.”
“What? You are leaving again?” Claudia’s stomach took a nosedive when Bobby nodded affirmatively. “No!” she almost shrieked, but she stopped before she frightened Mikey.
Holding her gaze steadily, Bobby said, “I signed on again before I knew about Mikey. I was planning on making as much money as I could for a year and then I would never go away again.”
“Bobby, how could you?” Shock and despair tore at Claudia’s insides and she couldn’t stand to look at her husband. She suddenly hated him. They had a baby now and he was planning to leave again!
Bobby reached out to touch her, but Claudia recoiled instantly. “Stop it, Bambi. You gotta understand. I’m doing it for us…for our son.” His earnest blue eyes searched her face, seeking to convince her. “I need to make sure I can provide for Mikey. One more six-month term and then no more.” He held his right hand up. “I promise.”
A feeling of deceit crept into Claudia’s heart as she stared at her prodigal husband. Her worst fear had come true—Bobby still had wanderlust. He was so addicted to travel and adventures that nothing would make him change, not even their baby, and certainly not her!
She snatched Mikey from his arms and held on to her baby for dear life. “Either get another job and stay with us or get out of our lives!” she cried, fury roiling inside her until she thought her skin would break out in angry red hives. Mikey woke up and started to wail. “Look, now Mikey is upset! I mean it, Bobby. Next time you won’t find us so easily.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Michaela found Tiffany at the first floor lobby of the hospital leaning against a vending machine, munching on a granola bar and sipping coffee. Her mass of golden curls had gone awry, but she still looked sexy in her hot pink mini and silver stiletto sandals. The addition of Paolo’s oversized, gray warm-up jacket slung over her bare shoulders made her little sister look like she was on the walk of shame.
“Well, well, well. Look who’s all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed,” Tiffany drawled, giving Michaela a sassy once-over. “Did you have a good night’s rest, Mic?” Her question oozed innuendo. She glanced at her watch. “Hmm…ten o’clock. How was breakfast in bed?”
“Hush up.” Michaela grinned. “How are Willow and Magda doing?”
“No trace of blood in Aunt Willow’s urine, so they took the catheter out. They both seem to be on the mend.”
Michaela breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh, good.”
“Everything is under control, as I told you when I called this morning. Remember?” Tiffany raised an eyebrow and gave Michaela an expectant look. “Don’t change the subject on me. I heard your Latin lover’s sultry voice in the background.”
“Let’s just say everything worked out fine between us,” Michaela said, downplaying the wonderful night she and Paolo had shared. It was so new and so special she wanted to treasure it just for herself.
“I’ll say. You’re glowing like a candle.” Tiffany flashed a knowing grin. “Even if you probably didn’t get much sleep last night—”
“Back to our aunts,” Michaela said, deftly changing the subject before Tiffany started to dig for details. “Were you able to get them into the same room?”
“Yes, they’re together.”
“Great! I see you haven’t lost your touch,” Michaela observed dryly. “That was nice of Dr. Jackson to arrange it.”
Tiffany gave her a disgruntled look. “Well…Dr. Jackson didn’t exactly agree to help. He wasn’t very nice to me,” she confided, pushing long curls away from her flushed face.
Michaela wondered at Tiffany’s reaction. “What do you mean?” She followed Tiffany to the elevator and waited while Tiff punched the button.
“He was too grouchy to even listen to me. For some reason, I annoy him,” Tiffany replied with a mystified look.
“You? Impossible.” Michaela stifled a smile. Dr. Jackson had to be a real stiff not to be won over by Tiffany. “Maybe he’s married,” she volunteered when the elevator doors opened and they got in.
>
“Nope. He’s single. Aunt Magda already asked him. She also found out his first name is Troy and that he’s thirty-two years old.”
“Troy Jackson. Sounds like a football player’s name. Maybe he played in college,” Michaela speculated.
“He sure has the body for it,” Tiffany said grudgingly.
Michaela smiled. “Aunt Magda can’t be that bad off if she’s already scouting for suitors.”
“I know.” Tiffany yawned and tapped her mouth with the palm of her hand. “Back to the grouch—”
“You mean Dr. Jackson?” They got out on the third floor and Michaela followed Tiffany down a long corridor.
“Yeah. When I politely asked him if he would arrange for Willow and Magda to share a room, he lectured me. He said, ‘This is a hospital, not a hotel, Miss Willoughby’. Can you believe how rude he was?”
Michaela patted her shoulder. “Don’t take it personally. I’m sure he was just exhausted from a long shift.”
Tiffany shrugged as if she didn’t care. “Whatever. Anyway, by the time Dr. Killjoy’s shift was over, they still didn’t have two rooms for them. So I sidled up to Dr. Mumford, the new doctor who came on duty, and asked if he could help me. What a great guy! He was more than willing to help, and voila, Aunt Magda and Aunt Willow are now roomies,” she said with a victorious grin.
“Are they getting along?” Michaela asked cautiously.
“I think Magda is beginning to get on Willow’s nerves. She’s itching to get out of there.”
When they reached Room 326, Tiffany stopped in front of it. “They’re in this room. Mom and Dad are in there too.” She gave Michaela an odd look and lowered her voice to a confidential whisper. “You’ll never guess where Mom and Dad were this week. It wasn’t a lawyers’ conference at all.”
“Where were they?” Michaela whispered back, wondering why Tiffany was acting as if she had something scandalous to share.
Tiffany’s blue eyes shined with the fun of revealing juicy news. “They spent the weekend at a marriage retreat—together!”
“Really? But they’re divorced. I thought Dad had a new girlfriend.”
“Me too.” Tiffany made a comical face. “Go figure.”
The atmosphere in the patients’ room was pleasant when Michaela and Tiffany entered. Despite the dire circumstances of their hospital visit, her parents looked relaxed and amiable with each other, which really surprised Michaela.
She kissed her aunts hello and inquired how they were doing.
“I’m just dying to get out of here,” Aunt Magda said. “Don’t worry, Willow, I’ll tend your shop till you’re released.”
“Thanks, Magda, but I told Jamie to put a sign on the window explaining I would reopen next week.” Aunt Willow gave her a wan smile. “It’s not as if I have tons of customers coming in.”
Seeing how pale and forlorn Aunt Willow looked huddled beneath two blankets on the hospital bed, Michaela rushed to her side. “Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable? Do you want some juice or a cup of tea?”
“No, dear, I’m just happy you’re all here with me,” Aunt Willow replied. Her face looked drawn and ashen in the stark fluorescent light.
“I know what would make her feel better, but it’s not allowed in the hospital,” Aunt Magda teased. “While you were sleeping, I found Manny’s number and told him that we’re here. His shift ends at five today. Maybe your firefighter will come rescue you through the window.”
“Maybe,” Aunt Willow replied coolly.
“Magda, stop baiting Willow. Dr. Mumford went out of his way to arrange for the two of you to share this room,” Mom reminded her.
“I wasn’t baiting her. I wish I had a boyfriend like Willow,” Aunt Magda replied.
Michaela wondered if it was such a good idea for Willow to be holed up with Magda, who seemed to have energy to spare this morning, in spite of her fractured ribs.
“Mom, Dad. You two look great,” Michaela said, turning the attention away from Willow, so her aunt could relax.
“Thanks. I just wish we’d been here with you last night during the long ordeal,” Dad said gruffly.
“Don’t worry. Mic was not alone. She was very well-accompanied last night.” Tiffany wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.
“Oh? By whom?” Aunt Magda asked, perking up. “A man?”
“A hot, manly one,” Tiffany confirmed. “Unfortunately for her show, Michaela has stepped over into enemy territory.”
“What do you mean?” Dad asked, looking confused.
“What do you think she means?” Mom’s face registered shock. “Tell me you didn’t, Michaela.”
“She sure did! Paolo Santos didn’t budge from Mic’s side the whole time she was at the hospital waiting to find out how the aunties were doing.” Tiffany paused and made a production of sighing happily, as she put her clutched hands over her heart. “And then he took her home,” she said in a wistful voice.
“To his place?” Aunt Magda asked eagerly.
Tiffany gave Michaela a sidelong glance. “I don’t know. Why don’t you tell us, Mic?”
Michaela face flamed as all eyes turned to stare at her with intense curiosity. “It’s nobody’s business but mine,” she said, drawing chuckles from everyone but her parents.
“Aren’t you worried he might be trying to soften the enemy?” Mom asked in her usual brash way. “The stakes are too high for you to be naïve about him.”
“Paolo sincerely wanted to be there for me during a time of crisis. He’s not trying to sabotage my chances,” Michaela said, her feelings wounded and insulted that her own mother would insinuate such a mean thing. “You don’t know him. Paolo is a wonderful, decent man.” She refrained from adding, “And I love him.”
“Ooh! Look at that dreamy look on Mic’s face,” Tiffany squealed. “I want somma dat, sistah.”
“I quite agree. Paolo Santos is dreamy,” Aunt Willow said, beaming.
“You’re defending him too, Willow?” Dad stared at all of them and shook his head in exasperation. “Women. I’ll never understand you,” he muttered as if they were an alien race. “We have been trying to outdo that guy for weeks and now all of you are practically drooling over the fellow.”
Poor Dad, between his ex-wife, her two sisters, and his two daughters, he was constantly surrounded by women and he still could not figure them out.
“I’m not defending him, Lawrence,” Sylvia said, giving her ex-husband a supportive look. She turned to her oldest daughter with a cautionary glance. “Michaela, maybe you should step back and assess the error of letting your guard down only a week before the showdown. Or have you given up your goal to win?” she challenged.
Michaela felt heat rise from the back of her neck, up her ears and over her cheeks, surely staining them scarlet. “Of course not! I want to win just as much as Paolo does, but I have come to realize that I want other things too.”
“Such as?” Sylvia’s keen eyes were upon her daughter like a hawk watching her baby take the first flight.
“Love, laughter, companionship. I want all those things and more!” Michaela said fervently.
“Hear, hear!” Aunt Magda cried. “We also want those things for you. And for Tiffany too!” Her blue eyes glinted merrily. “Although, from the way Tiffany worked the floor in that little sequined mini this morning, I have a feeling she might be dating a doctor soon.”
Two vigorous knocks on the door silenced their laughter as all eyes turned to watch Dr. Jackson enter, followed by a matronly, gray-haired nurse. He strode into the room, looking far more refreshed than he had last night. His wavy, dark hair was brushed back from a square-jawed face that held a straight, high-bridged nose above a firm mouth. Penetrating jade eyes surveyed the room and lit on Tiffany briefly. He nodded and then turned his attention to her two aunts.
From the
corner of her eye, Michaela caught Tiffany’s frosty reaction to Dr. Jackson’s arrival. Tiffany had turned away from him, slouched slightly in a blasé pose and was twirling a blonde lock, not paying one bit of attention to the good-looking doctor.
“Good morning. Would everyone please clear the room? I’d like to examine the patients,” he said briskly.
Aunt Magda said, “Can you check me first, Dr. Troy? I’m ready to leave.”
Dr. Jackson’s stern face relaxed into a kind smile. “Of course.” He turned to Willow. “I’ll be with you shortly, Mrs. Reese, as soon as I examine your sister.” The nurse pulled the privacy curtain dividing the two patients.
“Gee, who would have thought he knows how to smile,” Tiffany muttered in a voice loud enough for all to hear as she exited the room with her family.
Even though he had barely slept last night, Paolo felt fantastic. As soon as he got home and took a hot shower, he would shoo Claudia to the mall so she could have an outing. He couldn’t wait to spend the morning playing with his little nephew. Poor Mikey; the little tyke needed quality time with his Tio Paolo.
But when he turned the key in the lock of his apartment door, he found Claudia still dressed in her robe, complaining to Señora Fuentes, her eyes red from crying.
“Claudia! ¿Qué pasa?” He looked from his teary sister to the distraught Señora Fuentes and a chill ran up his spine. “Is Mikey all right?”
“Sí, your nephew is fine. But his father es un desgraciado!” the meddlesome widow said tartly.
Paolo’s eyebrows shot up. She had just called Bobby a jerk. “Tell me what happened.” He closed the distance between them with hurried strides.
“Bobby just left,” Claudia said, between hiccupping sobs.
“Why do you look so upset? Did he hurt you?” Paolo demanded, hot blood rising to his head. “I’ll kill him if he did.”
Señora Fuentes sniffed. “He didn’t hurt her physically, but he hurt her feelings. Very much! Pobrecita,” she clucked, calling Claudia a poor little thing.
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