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Seduction (The Secret Billionaire Asher Christmas Duet Book 1)

Page 7

by Z. L. Arkadie


  “Who’s that?” Rich asked.

  He was right behind me, careful to not touch me. Anyone could see him out in the hallway. The hospital had eyeballs everywhere, which was why he’d had some guy who was not in my ward come collect me and bring me to him.

  “As I said, goodbye, Rich.”

  I clutched my stomach and got the hell away from the scene as fast as I could. Why do I feel so nauseated? It was as if I had lost Dr. Sparrow, even though I was resigned to putting distance between us. But I didn’t know if that was what I wanted. I didn’t know anything anymore.

  Chapter Ten

  Penina Ross

  My shift ended. I hadn’t run into Dr. Sparrow since our encounter in the hall of offices, and I was sort of disappointed about that. I wanted to know how he would’ve treated me after that, and I definitely wanted to explain exactly what he’d seen. I did not have sex with Rich, which should’ve been evident by Rich’s boner. If I had banged him, he wouldn’t have had a hard-on. Surely Dr. Sparrow would know that. After all, he was a doctor.

  The apartment building wouldn’t be ready until the next morning at nine a.m. Hospital personnel that lived in the building were staying in pretty nice call rooms on the west wing of the facility. Apparently, no one had known the space even existed. My fellow tenants prattled on about how nice the call rooms were. I asked Kevin, who lived in our building with his wife, Lulu, who was a nurse, if there was a bed available for me. He said space was tight, but if I showed up, somebody would find one for me.

  That was the sort of person Kevin was. He went above and beyond to make the impossible happen. I thanked him and settled on staying at the W Hotel since that would be no hassle at all. Plus, paying homage to Dr. Sparrow’s luxury penthouse, I wanted the high-class suite and first-class room service.

  So once again, as I walked to Sparrow’s place, I passed on my regular order of bourbon wings at Bellies. Robert, the doorman, let me in. We fell into a short conversation about my being a neurosurgeon.

  “I still can’t believe it. You’re too fine to be so smart.” He giggled at his own sense of humor. “You’re supposed to be kept by one of these high-rolling motherfuckers living here.”

  I tossed my head back and laughed, knowing he truly believed in the logic of what he said. But I couldn’t be offended by his remark. A doctor should know that it took all kinds to make the world go around. Finally, I told him goodbye and rode the elevator up to the penthouse.

  I forgot to ask him if Dr. Sparrow was home, and I even forgot to check the board to see if Sparrow was in surgery. Although I didn’t want to run into him, I also did. He needed an explanation about what he’d seen between Rich and me before I packed my things and vacated. If he was attending Court’s party the next week, then he would know that Rich was her boyfriend. I didn’t want him to think I was the sort of woman who fucked around with men who made commitments to other women—even if the man didn’t practice upholding his side of the bargain.

  Once again, I appreciated how smoothly the elevator doors opened. Everything about the penthouse felt sleek.

  My phone beeped twice as I walked to the guestroom, and I sighed exasperatedly as I tossed my bag onto the bed. I searched through all the junk inside until I found my cellphone. The first message was from Jamie, stating that the fire inspector had found that the electrical wiring of the building made it unsafe. All tenants would be reimbursed the previous month’s rent in order to find lodging for the next seven to fourteen days while the building was being rewired. The only thing that kept me from groaning with disappointment was the second message I received. It was from Dr. Sparrow, and it simply read Stay. J. Sparrow.

  I sighed, scratching my head, then tiredly fell on top of the bed and tried to figure out what I really wanted to do. I could say, “Thanks for the hospitality, Dr. Sparrow, but no, thanks.”

  Flipping onto my back, I narrowed my eyes at my phone. I had several things to ask him, like whether he was staying at the penthouse or I was the only resident there. I also wanted to just say what he’d seen earlier wasn’t what it looked like. But maybe he had no suspicion about what had gone on between Rich and me at all. As far as he was concerned, Rich was a patient, and I had just ended a consultation. Dr. Sparrow had nothing to be skeptical about unless I tickled his curiosity.

  Thanks, Dr. Sparrow. I’ll stay, I typed and hit Send.

  He immediately responded with a thumbs-up emoji and told me to order whatever I wanted for dinner.

  You’re not joining me? I replied before I realized what that question must look like to Dr. Sparrow. It almost sounded as if we were in a relationship. But he was just an accommodating attending, rewarding me for saving one of his patients’ lives.

  I sat up, believing that he was going to ignore my last question, but my phone dinged.

  I have surgeries.

  I decided to leave it at that, but then I changed my mind.

  Need help? I added a smiley face for good measure.

  No.

  I felt gratified by his quick response. Rich had rarely replied to me with such swiftness. He liked to make everyone who needed something from him wait. I always believed it had something to do with him being a professional athlete. When people were willing to kiss his ass just to be near him, he derived a sense of satisfaction by making them anticipate his reply, even his girlfriend.

  Deciding to think of my ex no more, I forced myself to stand then went into the living room to order a shrimp po’ boy salad and hot mint tea with lemon. Room service informed me that they would be up in eight minutes with my order.

  “That’s fast,” I said.

  “You have express service, ma’am,” the woman said.

  After she said that, I was done vacillating about whether to enjoy the gift of the luxury accommodations. I would remain in the penthouse until he asked me to leave.

  I nearly skipped to strip out of my clothes and put on the fluffy white robe and slippers, then I sauntered back into the living room. As I gaped at the view of the buildings sprawled across the city below, which was kissed by the Mississippi River, I suddenly realized it was the first time I’d ever witnessed such a sight from a place I was living in. A neurosurgeon could make a lot of money to one day afford a place like that, but I’d never pictured myself being one of those people. I wasn’t in it for the money.

  The doorbell rang, and I quickly went over to answer it. It was room service, and she once again reminded me that I didn’t have to tip.

  I sat at the table and ate as much of the salad as I could before my eyelids became too heavy for me to stay awake. It was time to wrap myself in the most comfortable bed linens that had ever touched my body. So I rolled the silver food cart out into the hallway, hopped into the shower attached to my guest room, and once I towel-dried my skin, crawled into bed and went straight to sleep.

  I was awakened by “Double Dare” by Jan Wilder. It was the song my alarm played the mornings of my on-call days.

  Goodness, I was counting the days to the end of my residency. I didn’t know what it felt like to have a vacation, but I planned to take one in August. I hadn’t decided where to yet, but I suspected it would be somewhere tropical and exotic. I moaned as I dragged myself out of bed. At least I’d slept comfortably again.

  After getting dressed, I found the standard continental breakfast in the kitchen but no flower. I’d forgotten all about the red rose I stuffed in my bag. It had gotten lost with all the other shit I hauled on a daily basis. I couldn’t help but feel that Sparrow was sending me a message and had indeed thought something sexual had occurred between Rich and me the day before.

  I wasn’t late so I ate one of the blueberry-glazed-and-sweet-cream-cheese-filled croissants, some apple slices, and some bacon. Next, I put coffee in a to-go cup and added cream. Then I got in the elevator and headed down.

  As I walked the path I usually took to the hospital, passing Bernard’s Bakery, I ran into Eloise, who was on the sidewalk, setting up a sign prom
oting their summer buns, which were melt-in-the-mouth flaky pastries filled with cinnamon-encrusted pecans, warm caramel, and a butter-rum ganache. Each bun was over eight hundred calories, which was why I never ate more than one a month.

  “Penina, is that you?” she asked, spotting me before I said something first.

  I waved. “Morning, Eloise. It’s me.”

  We hugged.

  After we released each other, Eloise put her hands on her hips. “Where’s Zara?”

  I turned down the corners of my mouth. “She’s not with me this morning.”

  “Is she okay?”

  “As far as I know.” My tone rang optimistically.

  The nosey baker smiled, and I knew she was pressing me for the same information my colleagues at the hospital wanted to know.

  “Well, you know that missing Christmas brother?” she asked as I checked my watch. If I stayed a full minute, I would be late.

  “Huh?” I asked, distracted.

  “One of my customers said they spotted him around here.”

  I wanted to get my feet moving as fast as possible. “Spotted who?” I asked, feeling my frown tug at my temples.

  She flapped her hand, waving me away. “Go, sweetheart. You hospital people are always in a rush.”

  That was exactly what I did, practically running the rest of the way to the hospital.

  My day began as it usually had. I logged in to the EMR system and did handovers, then I started rounds, then Deb sent me to float in emergency, where I ended up performing an aneurysm clipping that took four hours and a craniotomy to drain a hematoma. Next, I repaired a ruptured blood vessel, which took three hours. I was going on eight hours with only a turkey-and-cheese sandwich that I scarfed down between procedures along with two juice boxes. I hadn’t seen Dr. Sparrow all day, either, and was sort of relieved about it.

  I sat out on the patio of the fourth-floor terrace with Angela. We both needed fresh air, food, and a moment to talk about anything but work. She had just told me about her call with Zara.

  Angela checked over her shoulder to make sure no one was listening then leaned toward me. “I think she’s getting married,” she whispered.

  My jaw dropped so fast and low that it could’ve hit the floor. “You think?”

  She shrugged indifferently. “She sort of alluded to it.”

  I scooted to the edge of my seat. “What does alluding to getting married sound like?”

  Angela threw her hands up in surrender. “I don’t know, but don’t bust my balls, okay?”

  I sat back and relaxed as much as I could. “I’m not busting your balls. I just know Zara’s not the marrying type.”

  She checked over both shoulders. “I never thought she was the type to quit the program when she only had one month to finish.”

  I raised a finger. “One month, one week, and one day, actually.”

  Angela had been frowning at something behind me, so I turned to look. When I saw, I quickly faced forward.

  “Why is Dr. Sparrow always staring at you that way?” Angela asked.

  He was with a man and a woman. I presumed one or both were related to a patient of his. We often brought consults or family members on the terrace to deliver updates or treatment plans since the seating, the sun, and the view of the water made it such a pleasant place to be. My head felt floaty, as I couldn’t stop thinking about how he hadn’t looked away even when our gazes met.

  I shrugged indifferently. “He doesn’t like me so…”

  She tilted her head. “Do you really think that?”

  “He doesn’t want me in on any of his teams, and he has the most severe cases, which means I could learn a lot from him.” I didn’t feel a need to mention that I knew why he felt so uncomfortable in the OR with me.

  Angela rolled her eyes. “You don’t need to be on his team, Pen. You’re a fucking awesome surgeon. Fuck him. Even though he’s amazing, you could still probably teach him a thing or two.”

  I snorted a chuckle.

  Then she abruptly scooted to the edge of her seat. “He’s still staring at you. Tell me the truth. Have the two of you screwed?”

  “No,” I said emphatically. Not yet at least.

  She kept watching him with her hand hiding her mouth. “He doesn’t even know he’s doing it.”

  I patted the table. “Well, you’re staring at him, too, so eyes on me.”

  “You don’t care,” she said as the corners of her mouth lifted in a tiny smile.

  “I don’t care about what?”

  Her eyes narrowed to slits as she studied me. Holy shit, Angela is figuring it all out. Regardless, I wasn’t going to tell her that he’d taken me to his office, and we’d kissed like two sex-starved individuals. And I sure as hell wasn’t going to tell her that he had been putting me up in a luxury penthouse in the business district.

  “He’s coming,” she said and nailed her back against her chair.

  Of course, she didn’t do as I said and continued gazing at him.

  My heart ran a hundred-meter dash when he appeared at the edge of our table. Then we both watched him inquisitively.

  “Good afternoon, Dr. Baker,” he said to her and waited for her response.

  She gulped. “Good afternoon.”

  Then he looked at me, and butterflies fluttered in my stomach. “Dr. Ross, good afternoon.”

  I nodded. Shit, say something. I cleared my throat. “Dr. Sparrow.”

  “I heard about your two surgeries from the ER. Good work.”

  “Thank you.” My voice was too high-pitched for my liking.

  Without another word, he walked away, and we couldn’t take our eyes off him until he was out of sight.

  Angela sank deeper into her seat, releasing all the tension from her body. “Where the hell did he come from? It’s like he’s not even human.”

  I grunted cynically, thinking about some of our run-ins. “Oh, he’s human.” I shot to my feet and gathered the plastic from the sandwich I’d devoured along with an empty bag of chips because I had rounds to make. “I have to go.”

  She stood too. “So do I.”

  And that was the last time we spoke for the day.

  The ER was busier than usual that night, and before my shift ended, I had three more emergency surgeries. On my way out, both Deb and Chief Brown mentioned that they wanted to talk to me about a fellowship. Chief even walked me to the exit, pitching all the benefits of taking up my fellowship at Unity Memorial instead of Boston. I wanted to ask him if he was giving me the full-court press because he’d heard from Boston. Have they accepted my application? But I didn’t ask. I still didn’t want to know.

  Before walking to the penthouse, I stopped by my place and checked my mail. It had the test results from a DNA test I had taken back in March or April. I had forgotten all about it. I had taken the test because I was hoping to find connections to relatives on my father’s side of my family. And maybe I would score the gold medal and find out who my sperm donor was. I felt more nervous about seeing those results than learning whether I would be moving to Boston at the end of my residency or not.

  My fingers were crossed that Sparrow would be inside when I entered the penthouse, but he wasn’t. I even searched each room to confirm his absence. I was too tired after that long, arduous shift to eat right away, so I stripped off my clothes and went straight to bed.

  I woke up around midnight to pee. My stomach growled, so I dragged my tired body into the kitchen. A single white rose wrapped in gold leafy paper and a note card were on the island. I immediately hurried over to read the card.

  This was missed with your breakfast.

  J. Sparrow

  I felt my entire face collapse into a frown. That was just super weird. The only time he’d spoken to me was on the fourth-floor terrace. We shouldn’t let others know we were flirting with each other, falling into some sort of hot and heavy relationship, but he could’ve at least sought me out other than just running into me on the patio to say hello, go
od morning, or good night.

  I smelled the rose then found a tall glass, filled it with water, and placed the beautiful flower in the liquid. Then I ordered room service before going back to bed.

  My next two shifts were again action-packed. I saw Dr. Sparrow three times in one day and six in the next. On each occasion, he pretended as if I didn’t exist. And I hadn’t ended up on his service yet. However, each morning, there were roses with my breakfast. The guy was the master of mixed messages.

  It was day four of living in the penthouse after getting the message that my apartment wouldn’t be inhabitable for seven to fourteen days. All had gone just as it had on the previous day, only at the end of my shift, on my way to the care station, I ran into someone else I wanted to avoid in the hallway.

  Court slapped both hands on her cheeks. “Oh my God, there you are,” she said, rolling the R sound on her tongue like a Valley girl. “I’ve haven’t seen you in, like, forever.”

  I forced a smile. “Actually, I saw you earlier this week.” I didn’t want to talk to her since I was ready to finish handoffs then go to Sparrow’s penthouse, order food, and go directly to bed.

  “Listen,” she said, taking me by the arm in a friendly way. “Rich and I were talking, and I thought Greg Carrol should be your date for the party. What do you think?”

  I was already out of work mode, reserving what was left of my brain power for handoffs. So I was barely able to process what she had said. “Who?” I asked.

  “Greg Carrol? Tight end. Hot guy. He saw you before, and he’s into you.”

  I glared at her. “No.” Although I sounded tired, there should’ve been no doubt I meant what I said.

  “Hello, Court,” Dr. Sparrow said from behind us.

  The sound of his voice made me jump before I turned to face him.

  “Hi, Dr. Sparrow. I was just talking to Dr. Ross. I think she should go on a date with a hot football player. Don’t you?”

 

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