“If I have my way”—the gruff voice is close enough to my ear I jump a little—“I’ll never step foot in this overpriced place again.”
“If you set your account to autopay like I suggested,” Blond and Burly fires back, “you won’t have to.”
“That’s how they get your information!”
As I slip past, close enough to the younger of the men to pick up a delicious whiff of palo santo, musk, and citrus, his deep voice rumbles, “Hell. This is my version of hell.”
Chapter Two
A few minutes later, I come out of the bathroom and smooth a hand down my hair, put together for the second time. Between cracking the window and the ever-present humidity, the natural wave is fighting to break free, and there’s not enough blotting pads in the world to avoid looking a little shiny in the forehead.
Sometimes I wonder what it’d be like to get ready only once in a day, no sticky, soupy air working against you every time you step outside.
Since that’s a problem not even I can solve, I lift my chin and stride through the lobby. My shoes clack against the earth-toned flooring, the staccato beats helping me step into my confidence. Problem is, it’s shaky. Also, that it’s never been very sturdy in the first place, as my worth’s always been wrapped up in what services I can provide people before they grow too weary of me.
Baggage for another time.
Clusters of people stroll the wide hallway, chatting with one another or talking on speakerphone and, given the demographic, there’s not a lot of volume control going on. Something I understand, for the record. But I’m not sure the same can be said for Gary, as everyone in the vicinity just overheard about his bowel cancer, the removal of one-third of his colon, and how “now he has to carry around a shit sack.”
I veer toward the open archway to my right to avoid a collision, pausing to read the gold placard declaring it theLakeview Medical Clinic.
“Can I help you?” The voice is smooth and masculine, and I turn to see a man in a white doctor’s jacket leaning an elbow on the counter of a tall receptionist desk. A stethoscope hangs around his neck ever-so-casually, and my heart thumps a little harder and faster, as if to prove it’s working just fine.
With hair that borders on black, russet eyes, and dimples set in bronze skin, the best description for him is droolworthy.So,here’s where they’ve been hiding all the hot doctors—it’s eitherGrey’s Anatomyor the retirement community.
“I’m not sure where I’m supposed to be.” Frowning, I cross the threshold, walking through the archway and onto the shiny white floor of a medical clinic. “I mean, of course I know where I’m supposed to be. I’m just trying to figure out where that is.”
Ugh, why weren’t words working today? It probably had something to do with crossing the paths of two of the hottest guys I’ve ever seen in the most unexpected of places. This man appeared to be mid-to-upper thirties, nowhere close to the requisite fifty-five age minimum, although plenty of people worked inside the community without residing there.
“Hi, my name is Mia Andrews,” I say, extending my hand and then wishing I’d waited until I’d crossed the lobby. “I’m starting a position at the village today.”
Dr. Droolworthy takes a step to meet me, his arm outstretched. “Nice to meet you, Mia. I’m Dr. Vasquez. This is Zuri.”
A woman in navy scrubs and fuchsia lipstick that matches the headband holding back inky coils lifts her hand in a wave. The two of them have a quick aside, and I catch his “the admin building across the courtyard?”
Then Dr. Vasquez slides his hands in his pockets, rocking onto his toes as his attention returns to me. “I’ll walk you.”
I fight my first instinct—to insist he not bother. Mostly so I won’t end up asking the person I’m supposed to impress for help next. An antsy sensation crawls through me, bordering on frantic from several weeks of living with it.Get a job, get a job, get a job.
Fix it, fix it, fix it.
The flirty smile the doctor aims at me lifts his lips a little too naturally, but it’s a really nice smile, so I decide to let him act as my guide.
“Like a sexy Gollum.”Through a neighborhood of senior citizens in middle Florida.It’s about as hot and bizarre in this community as Mordor, if not quite as volcanic.
“What was that?” the doctor asks, and I quickly clamp my lips. Guess I’m not the best at regulating volume, either, as I’d meant for the nerdy commentary to remain under my breath.
Engaging my filter and volumizing mascara, I bat my lashes and say, “Nothing. Just thank you. For your help.”
Okay, so now I was talking like a robot, but I hadn’t completely botched it.Yet.“How many doctors work at the on-site clinic?”
“Requesting a second opinion already?” Dr. Vasquez says teasingly.
His joke startles a laugh out of me, and as we near the stone fountain in the center of the open-air courtyard, I marvel at the plants bringing in color and oxygen. Tables and chairs sit under a line of misters next to a deli, and I note the coffee cart, currently as unmanned as I am undercaffeinated.
“Don’t worry,” I say. “I’ll keep you as my tour guide until you get us lost. I’m just gathering information for my new position—hazards of my publicity brain kicking in.” I tap a temple, as if otherwisethe doctorwould be unfamiliar with my anatomy. With that dimple of his popping in his cheek and leaving me weak in the knees, I’m afraid desperation’s practically wafting off me. It’s been months and months of never making it past a third date; a year since I was laid; and two since it’d been done properly.
“Publicity, huh?” Dr. Vasquez says.
