“Phone book.” Finn smiled a perfect smile.
“Don’t even think you can keep up with me,” Cecelia said, quickening her pace. Guilt jolted through her with every footfall. What would Jack think?
“Oh, I don’t know, I’ve been known to hold my own on the streets.” He matched her pace easily, punching at the air like Rocky Balboa.
“Now I know how you’re going to die. A heart attack on the third mile trying to keep up with me,” she teased. She tried not to notice the jolly little elf who seemed to be doing a jig in her stomach. I am not happy to see Finn.
“Is that all? Three miles?” Finn threw another one-two punch into the air. “Good thing I’ve already done two to warm up.”
She ran faster, but he matched her pace. They ran side by side for a while before she found breath enough to ask, “What are you doing here?”
“Hitting on you.”
She missed a step and almost tripped.
“Whoa,” he said, catching her. “Careful there, Doctor. I was just kidding. I thought we established that the romance was off. Something about a ring. But I could use a running partner. And when you said you went running in the morning, well, so do I.”
She kept her eyes straight ahead. A running partner beside her, in pace with her, felt like a gift. Was she that lonely?
No. She shouldn’t be with him. Yesterday, it was for the welfare of a child. But this? This was for that damn dancing elf.
A person wasn’t supposed to feel giddy around another person by their mere presence. A person wasn’t supposed to notice that other person’s legs—
They reached the park and turned down a tree-lined path. She quickened the pace again. Maybe if I lose him, I can go back to my normal life. Maybe I can outrun them all. Maybe it’s all a test.
“I hate to pry, but you looked upset when you came out to play this morning,” he said. His voice was easy, as if he weren’t running at all.
She increased the pace. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”
“Running? Oh, no. All the experts say exercise is good for you—”
“You know what I mean.” She tried not to smile. I am a serious doctor. The elf is an invader.
“I don’t. Talk to me.” His voice was low and serious.
They were sprinting now.
He shook his head. “You can’t run away from life, Doctor.”
Did this man understand everything about her? Well, one thing he didn’t know: she was a champion runaway artist. The best. She pushed her body forward with all her strength, but he followed easily. Their feet hit the ground in tandem. A hill loomed ahead and she cursed, but pushed on, even faster. Her legs felt like they were going to collapse. Pain zipped up her side. There, that was more like it. More like what she deserved.
She deserved the pain for flirting with a hunky stranger just moments after being in her fiancé’s arms.
She ran faster. He kept up easily, his breath even beside her.
She deserved the pain for having spent years scamming innocent people who only wanted True Love. Who was she to enjoy True Love when she had denied it to so many?
She upped the pace again, her lungs straining.
He pulled a little ahead of her. “Cecelia. Stop.”
She deserved the pain for wanting more than a poor gypsy wanderer could have: medical school, a career, a future. And now, to add to all that, she wanted this man. Wanted him desperately, here, now. Well, you couldn’t have everything. That wasn’t the way life worked. You chose and she had chosen and this man did not fit.
He was a full stride ahead of her now. “Slow down.”
They reached the top of the hill and began the long descent to the fields and playground that lay below. The slope steepened. A jagged hole in the pavement loomed. She noticed it just as he reached out and touched her shoulder. The shock of his firm hand on her heaving shoulder threw her into confusion. Why does his touch feel so right if he’s everything I fought against—?
Suddenly her foot caught. Her body flew forward and she put out her hands to catch her plunging body. A sharp pain radiated up her arm, and she cried out. She collapsed on the cold sidewalk, aware of the piercing heat radiating from her hand.
A shard of glass stuck out of her palm like the sail of a tiny sinking ship.
Chapter 14
Finn was at her side in an instant. “We gotta get that out.” He took her hand.
“It’s superficial,” she said. She wasn’t sure if she meant the wound or her feelings for this incredibly beautiful man. “I need—” she began. I need you to tell me that it’s okay. To tell me that I’m okay.
Before she could finish her sentence, he steadied her hand and expertly extracted the glass. “Stay put. I’ll be right back.”
She held her hand gingerly. Good. He was going. Breathing room. Her body was reacting to this man like it was beyond her control.
What was it with her and this guy and parks?
Okay, pull yourself together. Stay in the present. She looked around her. The playground was below them. A solitary father shouldered a cranky baby. A pickup basketball game raged full guns farther off, the men’s shouts and the ball slapping the concrete, echoing to where she still sat in the middle of the path. A hot-dog vendor served steaming coffee in paper cups and donuts. His hot dogs spun patiently in their rows, waiting for lunchtime.
Finn jogged over the grass and down the steep slope. He stopped at the hot-dog stand. The man handed Finn a bottled water, some napkins, and two hot dogs. Finn raced back up to Cecelia. He put the hot dogs carefully by her side.
“Ah. The ancient Chinese hot-dog remedy.”
“Hell no. I’m not getting our breakfast all bloody. Hold still.” He poured water on the cut. When the blood cleared, they saw that it wasn’t too bad. Cecelia held a wad of napkins to it and they walked the rest of the way down the hill. They collapsed onto a bench.
Finn offered her a hot dog. “For strength.”
“Those things are filthy. Plus, it’s not even eight in the morning. They’re probably raw.”
“Breakfast of champions.” He bit into one.
It smelled divine. “Oh, hell. So long as I’m covered with blood and hanging out with a stranger in the park, I might as well.”
She accepted the hot dog.
“I don’t have to be a stranger, you know.”
“I’m engaged.”
“So what? I just want a running partner. Although now, I’m not so sure about you as a running partner. Don’t pull a stunt like that again.”
How long had it been since anyone had made her feel so relaxed? She thought back to the time Jack had tried to teach her golf, a pastime they were planning to share. But she didn’t have the patience. And of course, he didn’t have the time.
“So, ask me something,” he said.
She tentatively nibbled at the end of the hot dog. It tasted better than she remembered. “I don’t have to ask, I know exactly who you are.” She took a bigger bite. She could eat five of these things.
“If you know so much, then go ahead. Tell me who I am.” He leaned back and stretched out his legs, his food already gone.
Cecelia tried not to notice his calves. She loved runner’s calves, long and lean. “You’ve got no address, no phone, so you’re a drifter.”
“We’re here to visit Maya’s grandmother.”
She hesitated, momentarily silenced. “So, you’re barging into my life for a few days and then you’re disappearing back to wherever you came from.”
“Wrong again. One of the regulars at Trudy’s offered me some carpentry work. Trudy set it up. I start on Monday. We might even be here for the whole summer.”
“Your sneakers are circa 2002, so you’re broke.” She finished the hot dog and longed for more.
“I love these sneakers. I wouldn’t replace them if I was a millionaire.”
“I knew that too.”
He smiled. “You want another hot dog?”
“You’r
e disgusting.”
“And you’re hungry.”
“All right, but I’m buying.” She fished into her sock and pulled out a sweaty five-dollar bill.
He made a face. “I can’t eat after touching that.” He trotted off to the hot-dog man. This time, he came back with four. “Pre-breakfast special today.”
“That’s gross.”
He handed her two. “You can do it.” He ate half of his in one bite.
She bit into hers. It was better than the first. She swallowed, then said, “I bet you ride a motorcycle. A Harley.”
“Kawasaki. Until I sold it to pay off some of Sally’s medical bills. We had some pretty lean times after she died. But we’re back on our feet now.”
Without thinking, she handed him her last dog. He ate it in three bites.
They sat in silence. The combination of the sun and her full stomach made her sleepy. She closed her eyes.
“Now I’ll tell you all the stuff you forgot to ask.”
She opened one eye.
“My wife died two years ago and I miss her like hell. Every minute of every day, I feel her gone, right here.” He put his open palm over his chest. “Maya feels the same. Whatever goes on in the world, it doesn’t matter compared to that hole that’s left. That’s the most important thing about my life. And the second most important thing is protecting Maya. I’d do anything for that kid. Anything. She lost her mom—and you of all people should know how awful that is. So you can ask me about my crummy shoes and my ordinary job, but that really says more about you, Doctor, than it does about me.”
Cecelia sat up. She felt strangely grateful for his stinging criticism.
He shrugged. “Sorry. But you were starting to piss me off.”
“Well, I certainly won’t risk pissing you off again,” she said. She tried to keep her voice light to hide the tender spot his words had hit. Was Maya right? Did no one like her?
“Now I’ll tell you about you,” he said.
“I think you already have.”
“You work all the time.”
“I’m a doctor. That’s what we do.”
“Yeah, but you work because you have no friends. You don’t let people in. That’s why you’re marrying a guy who barely knows you.”
“You’ve never met Jack. You don’t know anything about him.”
“Neither do you.”
Cecelia sat up. “Tell me again why you’re here.”
“If I don’t make friends with you, my daughter isn’t going to speak to me again. She thinks that because of all this True Love crap, you’re going to be her mother.”
Cecelia lay back and closed her eyes again. “Well, that was honest.”
“Plus, you’re just weird enough to keep me interested.”
She smiled. Something about being called weird by him felt good. It was better, at least, than what he had said before.
He gave her a funny look. “Want to hear something truly weird?”
She sat forward. Something about his face had changed, as if he’d aged in the last few moments. She felt the urge to touch the worry lines that had emerged on his forehead.
“It was back in Florida with Maya. I’m nailing new boards onto our porch, thinking about how hard it is to work and take care of her. About how my house is driving me nuts, because Sally died there. I see her everywhere.”
“See her? Your wife?”
“Not weirdo psychic seeing. I mean I think about her all the time. Her stuff’s all over the house. I’m thinking, we’ve got to get out of there. Then, Maya tells me about this pen pal granny she hooked up with who wants us to come to Baltimore. We go around about it for a while. I have no idea what to do. So I say to myself, ‘Sally, if we should go, give me a sign.’” He stopped to see how she was taking all this.
She tried to encourage him with her eyes. “I don’t think that’s weird.”
“No. You wouldn’t. So anyway, bam, the phone rings. It’s my boss. The next project’s canceled—a city job that was going to keep us going all summer. He’s laying off the whole crew. It’s gonna be hard for me to get work with a new crew, because I had this sweet deal with my boss where I could get Maya off to school or camp or whatever, and then show at the site. But no one else is gonna be that soft. So there’s Maya with her big blue eyes and a map with this crazy line she drew to Baltimore. What can I do? I call this granny in a daze. I mean, I’m on autopilot. I hardly know what I’m saying. But this lady offers me a carpentry job with one of her regulars, and tells me she’ll take care of Maya. She offers us a place to stay, and tells us she’ll feed us.” He got a faraway look in his eyes. He said softly, “It was like a sign.”
“Maybe it was.”
He shook his head at what he obviously considered his craziness. “A sign that I’m losing it.”
Cecelia said quietly, “It’s not nuts. Your wife could be looking out for you. And Maya.”
He seemed to consider this. Then he snapped back into the present. He jumped up, and looked around nervously. “Hey, you wanna race?”
Cecelia looked at him doubtfully. “Race?” The hot dogs formed a lump in her stomach. “To see who can throw up first?”
“Exactly,” he said.
“No thanks. I think I’ll just sit here until a crane comes to take me away.”
“Suit yourself. But I have to get going. Me and Maya are taking the train to D.C. today. Get her a little historical perspective on this great country.” He started a slow jog away from her. Then he stopped. “Hey, Doctor. I had fun this morning.”
“Was it the bloody hand or the toxic hot dogs?”
“The conversation and the spandex.” He let his eyes roam quickly over her.
“In that order?” She felt the blush rise and hoped her face was already red from the exercise.
“Yeah. In that order. Especially if you keep scarfing down those disgusting hot dogs.”
She watched him jog away. Suddenly she felt so alone, she couldn’t bear it. She liked to talk to him. He was almost at the edge of the park when she sprung after him. “Finn—wait!”
He stopped.
She approached him warily. A voice in her head told her to let him go, but she didn’t listen. “What time are you getting back from D.C.?” she asked.
“Dinnerish. Why?”
“You wanna go somewhere with me tonight? As friends?”
He looked her in the eyes long and hard, as if looking elsewhere might be dangerous. “You think that’s a good idea?”
It was a terrible idea. The worst idea she’d had in ages. What was she doing? “I’m sure. It’s a big, boring doctor’s fund-raiser. It’ll be—”
“Awful?” He moved a step toward her.
“Yeah,” she managed to get out. She felt like touching him. Just a lock of hair.
“Maya will be delighted. But your fiancé—”
“He has to work,” she said quickly. “Plus, we’d be going as friends.” The air had become charged between them. If she moved, the entire park might ignite.
“Running buddies.”
“Right. Nothing more.” Their eyes locked. “Every tourist should see the incredible view from the Hyatt.”
“Right. The view,” he said. “Pick you up at—?”
“Seven-thirty. Meet me at the Hyatt on the waterfront. Oh, hell. You need a tux.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll manage. That’s why they have rental shops—for bums like me. See you tonight. Buddy.” Then he turned away again and disappeared over the hill before she could change her mind.
What on earth had she just done?
Chapter 15
What had been in those hot dogs to make her think this was a good idea? Cecelia walked into the ballroom with Finn in a very nicely fitting tux at her side. It would be fine. He was a friend. It was okay to spend some time with a friend at a work-related social event just so long as she didn’t notice how that tux fit—
Cecelia gasped.
Finn grinned. “You didn’t t
ell me to wear my head scarf.”
Cecelia couldn’t speak, her confused feelings for Finn were replaced by pure horror.
The room was decorated like a giant gypsy carnival. Well, a gypsy carnival under six sparkling faux-crystal chandeliers, on top of a purple Stainmaster rug, and populated by five-hundred middle-aged doctors and their spouses. Despite the obvious impossibility, someone had gone to elaborate trouble to transform the top floor of the Hyatt into an exotic den of unbridled gypsy lawlessness.
Whoever had chosen this theme had obviously never met a doctor.
Or a gypsy.
Red and gold batiks hung from golden trellises around the outskirts of the room. Huge mirrors tiled in glittering colored glass were propped strategically to reflect red and purple lights, giving the room a sundown-at-the-Casbah disco glow. Each table was draped in a bloodred cloth with a huge hookah at the center blowing smoke.
“Think they’re real?” Cecelia asked hopefully, indicating the opium bongs.
Finn grabbed a purple drink off a passing waiter’s tray. “No, but this is.” Finn handed her the purple drink. Its stirrer was topped with a tiny crystal ball.
The poor waiter was dressed as a badly imagined snake charmer. Other waiters wore eye patches and swords, as if the differences between gypsy and pirate were too small to make a difference.
She gulped the drink gratefully and glanced at Finn. “You’re laughing at me.”
“Me? No. I would never do that.” He grabbed another drink. This time he broke off the crystal ball and tossed it into the pipe of the nearest hookah. He took an enormous gulp. “I thought maybe the party fund-raiser bit was a lie and you really wanted to introduce me to your gypsy family—ouch!”
Cecelia had stomped soundly on his rental loafers with her two-inch heel. “This is just the kind of stereotypical nonsense that makes me cringe whenever people think about gypsies.” She wished she hadn’t worn bright red tonight, that her dress didn’t have such a swishy skirt, or at least had sleeves. She checked her hair to make sure it was securely plastered to her head. A waitress in an I Dream of Jeannie costume passed. “Aunt Betty,” Cecelia whispered to Finn with a wink.
Make Me a Match Page 11
