Angel in Armani

by Melanie Scott

  He didn’t want to think about her. Normally if he dismissed something from his mind, it stayed dismissed. But Sara Charles was bucking that trend.

  Which meant he had to decide what to do about her.

  His first trip to the Saints’ spring training camp in Florida was in two days. Which meant the travel schedule from hell started, too. Every second he could save on travel was time he had for his patients. And that meant using choppers to get around where he could.

  So he needed to find another pilot he trusted. Sara’s check refunding his fare seemed to be a fairly clear message that she didn’t expect him to patronize her business again. Combined with the hire car boosting and the near-dawn abandonment, that was.

  Christ. Near-dawn abandonment? He needed to get a grip. They’d agreed to a one-night thing and she’d taken that to its logical conclusion and left first.

  He’d done his share of leaving women’s bedrooms at the end of one-night stands. A few had left his, too. True, he usually tried to be gentlemanly about things and offer breakfast, but that didn’t always work out.

  He always made his position clear. Short-term only. One night usually.

  He just didn’t have time for anything more complicated. Not now. Relationships were always complicated, in his experience.

  His mother had started trying to throw eligible girls in his path when he’d been in college. He’d avoided those—the girls his mother approved of were generally the kind who wanted to have the same sort of life she had, and he’d been doggedly working to avoid the life his parents expected him to have for as long as he could remember.

  In medical school and during his internship he’d barely had time for women. But he’d had a few longer-term relationships. With beautiful intelligent women who should have been perfect for him. But either they hadn’t liked playing second fiddle to his crazy schedule—which he couldn’t blame them for—or they revealed themselves to be more interested in the Angelo money than in Lucas himself. Or things just hadn’t worked out.

  And then there’d been Elena.

  Elena whom he had met at one of his mother’s fund-raisers. Elena who was beyond beautiful and smart and busy with her own career. Elena the biochemist.

  He’d thought she was perfect. Until she, too, started talking marriage after only a few months and he’d realized that once again his name was more interesting to her than anything else he might have to offer.

  Since then he’d decided that, until his life was more under control, and God knew when that would be, casual was the better option.

  He’d broken up with Elena well over a year ago now, and he’d stuck to that plan since then. Which was just as well, given that becoming part owner of the New York Saints hadn’t exactly freed up his schedule.

  So sue him, he hadn’t said no to Sara Charles when she’d made a move.

  He hadn’t been expecting it—hadn’t pegged her for the type—but he’d been more than happy to oblige.

  And now he was wondering exactly why he couldn’t consign her to memory where she belonged.

  What was it about her exactly? He had no idea. She wasn’t the most beautiful woman he’d dated. But there’d been something about her.

  His hands flexed … remembering. Her skin. Her mouth. The way she’d felt wrapped around him and calling his name.

  Maybe he’d lost his mind due to the storm or something.

  Maybe there was a scientific explanation for it. Wasn’t a near-death experience meant to draw people together? It was certainly a theory espoused by almost every Hollywood action movie he’d even seen. He didn’t know the science, though. He’d never been terribly interested in psychology. Too much theory. Not enough scalpels.

  The close encounter that he and Sara had had with the tree counted, he supposed.

  So was that it? The fact that their systems had been flooded with adrenaline, heightening the experience? Maybe that explained her unexpected pass as well.

  He swore suddenly and shoved the paper back into the wallet.

  What did it matter why he couldn’t forget her?

  She obviously hadn’t wanted to see him again or she wouldn’t have snuck out. And if she’d regretted it since, she’d made no attempt to contact him. She knew who he was, and he wasn’t exactly hard to find on the Internet these days. A few seconds with Google and she would have had contact details for him at the hospitals he worked at, at his office, and at Deacon Field.

  So no, it was clear enough that he was the only one having inconvenient flashbacks.

  Which meant that he was going to have to do what needed to be done. He was going to accept the situation and really put her out of his mind. And the first step in that was finding another helicopter firm.

  * * *

  Four days later Lucas stood in Alex’s office at Deacon Field, having caught a red-eye back from Orlando to perform emergency surgery on a world-class golfer who’d managed, of all things, to roll his golf cart and smash up his knee pretty good.

  He’d endured five hours of flying and twice that in getting through all the airport security bullshit that came with flying these days. All for just over twenty-four hours in Florida. Barely time to be introduced to all the potential players they were trying out or speak to Dan Ellis about the training program.

  He was tired and hungry and he very much did not want to turn around and drive back to Manhattan and catch a plane to get back to Vero Beach in the morning. But he definitely didn’t want to get back in a helicopter with the cowboy who’d flown him back from JFK. The guy had decided to show off a little, and it had been only a very iron force of will that had kept Lucas from reacting to the swooping maneuvers he’d put the chopper through or from punching him when they landed. He was the third pilot Lucas had hired so far. And the third who’d come up short in the fly-the-chopper-in-a-manner-that-didn’t-make-him-think-of-imminent-death stakes.

  Sara didn’t swoop.

  The thought of Sara Charles and the fact that so far, he hadn’t found another chopper pilot who managed to fly the way she did, didn’t improve his mood.

  He scowled down at the field, currently empty with the team in Florida.

  “What’s eating him? Girl trouble?” Mal said from behind him. Lucas didn’t turn around. He wasn’t in the mood for Mal’s idea of wit.

  “Lucas doesn’t do girl trouble,” Alex replied, his voice somewhat amused.

  Lucas gritted his teeth.

  “Remember, he has his new tap-’em-and-toss-’em policy,” Alex continued. “No trouble to be had.”

  Lucas turned at that one. “I do not,” he said, trying not to give in to the urge to toss Alex somewhere, “toss women. We come to mutually agreeable terms”—he held up a hand before either of his so-called best friends could come up with some stupid joke about that—“and we part ways amicably.”

  “That’s what he thinks,” Alex said to Mal. “How much do you want to bet there’s a trail of women a mile wide across Manhattan pining for ol’ blue eyes?”

  “I don’t have to bet on that,” Mal said. “There’ve been women pining after ol’ blue eyes for the last twenty years. Ever since Texas.”

  Lucas rolled his eyes at Mal. “I never noticed you lacking for female company at college, either. Nor,” he pointed out in a steely tone, “do I see any sign of you having a regular girlfriend. And yet, I don’t think you’ve taken a vow of celibacy. Those who live in glass houses…”

  “I’m not throwing stones,” Mal said. “But if it isn’t girl trouble, then what’s put the bug up your butt? Because Alex was just talking to you about TV licensing and you nearly took his head off.”

  Had he? Fuck. He was more tired than he thought. He parked himself back in one of the chairs facing Alex’s desk. “I’m sorry. I need sleep.” He didn’t sleep on planes, and he’d gone straight into surgery and then come right on out to Staten Island for this meeting.

  Alex regarded him, head cocked to one side. “Are you sure that’s it?”

  �
��What else would it be?”

  “I don’t know, but you’ve been in a mood ever since you got back from that party at Margot’s a couple of weeks ago.”

  “Like I said. I’m tired. In case you hadn’t noticed, the schedule is kind of crazy around here.”

  “I noticed,” Alex said. “And I’m sorry you got the short end of the stick with the travel. I’m trying to get everything else set up as fast as possible so I can get to Florida more often myself. But these things take time.”

  Lucas nodded and dug his fingers into the muscles at the back of his neck. “I know.” Owning a baseball team was a lot more complicated than it sounded. And he’d been thorough about weighing the pros and cons before he’d agreed to sign up to this insanity. He’d gone in with his eyes open.

  This was just the hard part. Getting things established. They’d known the Saints were in trouble when they’d bought them, known there was work to do. So he just had to plow through and get it done.

  “You really need to learn to nap on planes,” Mal said.

  Lucas gave him a death glare. Mal, thanks to his years of being the globe-trotting soldier, slept anywhere at the drop of the hat. Lucas, who had also learned to catch any sleep he could as an intern, could usually sleep like a log in almost any situation, too.

  But he didn’t sleep in the air. Never had since that airlift to the hospital twenty years ago. It was irrational and he knew it, but he hadn’t managed to convince his body that if he fell asleep in a plane or a chopper, he wouldn’t wake up in a hospital again. Or maybe just not wake up at all.

  “You worry about your wheeling and dealing,” Lucas said. “Let me worry about me.”

  Alex and Mal both frowned at him. “You’re no good to us if you keel over,” Alex said.

  “I can do twelve-hour surgeries, I’m not going to keel over from a little travel.”

  They both kept frowning at him. It was their way of expressing concern, he guessed. They both knew he didn’t sleep in planes, but he’d never let them know why exactly.

  “Fair enough,” Alex said. “But don’t be stupid about it. If there are things that will make this easier, then do them. Whatever you need.”

  What he needed was Sara Charles.

  Wait. What? No.

  He stomped down on the thought but it sprang back up with annoying persistence. Sara Charles piloting for him. Sara Charles doing—

  He stomped harder. Not going to happen.

  “What was that?” Mal asked.

  “What was what?”

  Mal cocked his head, dark eyes narrowing. “Your face went kind of weird.”

  “My face is not weird.”

  “Have you looked in the mirror lately?”

  “No, because it broke last time you looked in it,” Lucas retorted.

  Alex held up a hand. “Much as I love this little double act you’ve got going on, I have to agree with Mal on this one. You were thinking about something.”

  “Is thinking a crime?”

  “No, but that wasn’t your usual analyze-the-situation-six-ways-from-Sunday look.”

  “I do not have an analyzing look.”

  “Yeah, you do,” Alex said. “But that wasn’t it. What’s up?”

  He started to say Nothing but then his mouth seemed to detach itself from his brain and said, “I think we need a helicopter.”

  Alex’s eyebrows shot skyward. Lucas couldn’t blame him for that. He was pretty surprised by what he’d just said himself.

  “You want us to hire a helicopter?” Alex said.

  No, Lucas thought. Then “Yes,” he said. “If I’m going to have the commute from hell then this will make life easier.”

  “Helicopters aren’t exactly cheap,” Mal pointed out. “And there are many other things we need.”

  “Leasing the chopper will work out cheaper than me chartering one several times a week, surely?”

  “It’s a helo, not a chopper,” Mal corrected.

  “I’m not in the army,” Lucas said. “Normal people call them choppers.”

  “Normal people don’t rent helicopters all that often,” Alex said. He was wearing his usual combination of blazer, business shirt with no tie, and jeans, and he shoved his hands into his pockets while watching Lucas, looking vaguely amused.

  “Yeah, well, normal people don’t buy baseball teams, either. And they don’t try and run a baseball team and a surgical practice at the same time. So I’m not putting myself in the category of normal just now. I’m putting myself in the category of guy whose friends are making him spend insane amounts of time traveling and whose life would be made much easier if he had a helo”—he grinned at Mal as he stressed the word—“on standby.”

  Mal folded his arms. He wore jeans, too, and Lucas suddenly wished he had a job where he could wear jeans. But nope, his wardrobe was suits for patient consultations and business stuff and scrubs the rest of the time. Mal’s jeans were paired with a faded black Metallica T-shirt rather than Alex’s shirt-and-blazer combo and only looked even more appealing because of it. Why hadn’t he gone into security?

  Because he didn’t want to spend the decade in the army being shot at in exotic locations prior to that? Right.

  “And exactly who is going to be flying this on-standby chopper?” Mal asked.

  “Well, obviously we’ll need to hire a pilot as well,” Lucas said. “Or come to an arrangement with one to be on standby. Though hiring one would be better. They could travel with me, fly me in Florida as well.” Okay, he was seriously losing his mind. Mal and Alex were going to have him committed.

  “If the pilot travels with you, then the rest of us wouldn’t be able to use the chopper,” Alex said. “If we’re going to spend that much money, I think the rest of us should benefit, too. You’re not the only one commuting.”

  “I’m the only one commuting to Florida. And it would save me the drive to and from Vero Beach,” Lucas said. “You’re welcome to use the chopper when I’m in New York.”

  “So really you want to us to hire two choppers, one here and one in Florida?”

  “We can probably make a deal with a charter firm in Florida to use a chopper,” Lucas said.

  “You could do the same thing here in New York,” Alex said. “And use their pilots.”

  “I want a pilot I can trust,” Lucas said. “I swear the guy who flew me today had a death wish.”

  Mal looked unsympathetic. “Did you have someone in mind?”

  “Perhaps,” Lucas said.

  “Ah,” Alex said. “The plot thickens. Who is she?”

  “Why do you think it’s a she?”

  “Because you’re suddenly on fire to have a helicopter at your beck and call, which makes me think that maybe something else is on fire, too,” Alex said. “Who is she, Angelo?”

  Lucas looked at Mal, who only shrugged and grinned at him, as if to say, I’m with Alex on this one, buddy.

  “Well, as it happens, there is someone I used a few times who was reliable. Her name is Sara Charles.”

  “Know any guys named Sara?” Alex said to Mal.

  “Not that I can think of,” Mal said. “Sounds pretty female to me.”

  Damn right she was female. But that was beside the point. He wanted her for her piloting skills, nothing more. Part of his mind snorted at that. Apparently he wasn’t fooling himself very well. Hopefully he was doing a better job with Mal and Alex. “Yes, she’s a woman,” he said. “She’s also an excellent pilot and that’s all I care about.”

  “Looks like Lucas has found a way to distract himself from his fear of flying,” Mal said. “Improve the scenery.”

  Alex laughed.

  Lucas began to wonder why he was friends with them. “I am not afraid of flying. People who are afraid of flying don’t fly multiple times a week.”

  “You don’t enjoy it, though.”

  “There are many things I do I don’t enjoy,” Lucas retorted. “It’s called being an adult.”

  “So this Sara Charles
… what is it? Do you like her or something?”

  “I told you, she’s a good pilot. I trust her. Isn’t that enough? You said whatever I need.”

  Alex raised one eyebrow. “I just want to be clear on what need she’s fulfilling. Because things are complicated enough around here.”

  Lucas blew out a breath. “Look, she was the one who flew me down to Sag Harbor when there was that big storm. You know, Margot’s fund-raiser thing.”

  “I remember,” Alex said.

  “So she was good in a crisis.” He left out the part where she’d left him stranded. Up until that point she had been good in a crisis. Very good.

  Very very good, the unhelpful part of him piped up.

  He stomped again. “And we need someone who can cope with a bit of chaos.”

  “It’s a lot of money for us to spend,” Alex said, still looking somewhat skeptical. “Plus it’ll take some time to organize.”

  “Surely one of your companies already has a chopper somewhere that’s not being used? You could lease it to us. Or sublease it or however the hell helicopter financing works.”

  Alex shrugged. “Maybe. I’d have to check what’s in the fleet at the moment. And how it’s being used.” He opened his sleek silver laptop and typed something quickly.

  Sometimes Lucas forgot just how much money Alex had. His own family was wealthy, but they didn’t keep a fleet of aircraft. “If you do, we can use it, and if it turns out we don’t use it as much as we think or that it’s not working out, we can give it back.”

  “You’ve got this all planned out.” Alex flipped the laptop closed. “Have you asked her already?”

  “No. I’m not an idiot. It would be cruel to make an offer I couldn’t follow through on.”

  Mal nodded. “Yes, it would. As would giving her a job because you like having her around. So you need to be clear why you’re doing this. If you like this girl, then hiring her is not the smartest thing in the world. Just ask Alex.”

  “I hired Maggie before I liked her,” Alex said. “And it’s worked out pretty well. But Mal’s right. It’s not an easy situation. If you are interested in her. So are you?”

  “That’s nobody’s business but mine right now,” Lucas said.