“You’re not falling for him, Andy!”
Dammit. What’s wrong with me?
On one of the shelves, I hit paydirt. An album filled with press clipping and photos. Mateo receiving awards. Mateo dressed in fatigues with a bunch of tough-looking men. Mateo in boxing shorts, pounding a bag…I sneak that one out and tuck it into my jeans pocket. It’ll probably help later tonight when I bury my nose into his t-shirt again. There are photos of him in a law enforcement uniform too. Jesus, but the man can rock anything he wears. I wonder if he has a set of handcuffs…
As I shut the album to tuck it away, a faded polaroid slips out of the back cover. A woman who could be Sophia Loren in her younger days has a small boy on her lap. There’s no mistaking the earnest dark eyes that stare from his serious little face. It’s Mateo. I swallow hard, then slide it carefully back where it came from and set the album on its shelf.
The man’s an enigma. And made even more so by the door that I notice when I straighten and turn away from the bookshelf. I haven’t noticed it before. It’s in a corner of the room, and when I turn the handle, it doesn’t budge. Why would he lock it? I look around for a key, running my fingertips along the lintel, and inside the nearby shelves. There’s no sign of a key anywhere. So of course, now I’m itching to get in there.
“Just what are you hiding, Mateo?” I tap my bottom lip with my fingertip, remembering that strange call he made when I first came here. The conversation in which he said he was marrying someone’s daughter. Obviously, he was talking about my father…and he was talking about some kind of plans.
What plans? And what business would take him out of town for so long?
“Get a grip, Andy. The man clearly has to do something to keep a place like this.” I wonder about the stories I’d heard about his involvement with Dario, and some sort of FBI connection. Through all of this, I’ve simply accepted his ability to protect me. But like a sex-crazed lunatic, I haven’t wanted to delve into what that might actually mean.
I’m about to jiggle the handle again when my phone rings and almost has me shooting three feet into the air. I tug the buzzing device from my back pocket and eagerly swipe the screen. When I see the number there, I feel my face fall.
“Hey, Callum,” I say.
“Hey back at ya,” Callum O’Connell responds. “How’s our favorite doctor doing?”
“All good,” I respond.
“Did you get my pics?” His voice is teasing. Not the cool professionalism of the recent days while we’ve interacted together.
“Yeah, they were great. Thank you.” I’d scrolled through the dozen photos he’d sent earlier of me and the kids from the clinic he runs.
“I just wanted to thank you again for all you’ve been doing these last few days. We couldn’t have managed without you.”
“It was no big deal,” I say. When Callum had called a couple of days back to ask me to stand in for one of his regular pediatricians, it had come as a blessing in disguise. I’d been happy to volunteer my time. It filled the hours of loneliness that seemed to descend when Mateo had left.
“Actually, I’ve loved it.” The pics he’d sent had been of me and half a dozen kids doing the chicken dance earlier this morning. For some, it’s the only medical care they can access, and Callum’s an angel for keeping the clinic running. He’s just not my angel…though, he seems determined to change that.
“So…I was wondering if you’d like to get a drink later?” he asks.
Dammit.
“Oh! Um…shoot… You know, I’m uh…busy tonight.” I fumble for words.
Tell him you’re engaged to be married, you idiot!
But for some reason, I feel like that would be wrong. Besides, it’s not like he never had any encouragement. Callum and I were residents together years back, and we got between the sheets a couple of times. Never anything serious, though he’s cute and fun. And obviously a great guy – what man would dedicate so much time to taking care of underprivileged kids?
Probably Mateo. Because he’s so fucking perfect.Asshole.
“How about tomorrow?” Callum persists.
“Um…look, Callum…”Shit.“Look, I’m sorry if you got the wrong impression, but…”
“You’re seeing someone.” I hear him sigh. He’s obviously smart enough to have figured it out for himself – Callum’s not the type to pick up the society pages where he would have seen the tabloid pieces about me and Mateo. Though I’m pretty sure he’s been wondering why I would have been tailed by two giant bodyguards all the time.
“I’m really sorry.” I feel like a complete bitch.
“No! Don’t be sorry, Andz. Jeez, it would be a crime if a woman like you wasn’t involved by now.”
By now.
Because why wouldn’t I have been married by thirty like half the women on the planet?
