by Chanta Rand
He stood by the door outside of Viola’s office and waited. He glanced at the time on his watch. Ten twenty-two. He would give Alexa five minutes. If she didn’t come out by then, he was outta here. She couldn’t expect him to stand around waiting for her all day. And to think, he’d missed one of Tyrek’s famous Predator Parties last night for this.
As the only two black quarterbacks in the history of the California Predator’s lineup, he and Tyrek Powers had become teammates and best friends. Tyrek had warned him about doing events for charity. He said it could backfire in the worst way. The two didn’t agree on everything, but Tristan had to admit Tyrek might have been right this time.
When Alexa emerged, exactly three minutes later, Tristan gave her an annoyed look. He maintained his cool demeanor, but inside his body heated up just looking at her. God, she looked good. Despite the bad vibes between them, he could not deny her sex appeal.
He didn’t know what the hell she and Viola had discussed, but Alexa’s voice was calm when she spoke. “Mr. Rexford, Viola asked that I take you on a tour of the hospital, if you have time.”
He shrugged his shoulders. “Sure. If you can stand to be with a man who pretends to be someone he’s not.”
She took a deep breath. “I apologize for my earlier remarks,” she offered.
“Apology accepted.” He gave her a smug look, as if he had just won a battle of wills.
Looking offended, she quickly amended her statement. “I’m used to being misled by men. I should have known you would be no different.”
He’d already started walking, but he stopped dead in his tracks. “I beg your pardon?”
“No need to beg,” she chided him. “But I will pardon you anyway.”
He gave her a long, measured look before responding. “Woman, you really are some piece of work. I don’t know what kind of preconceived fantasies you have, but I guess I don’t fit into them, and that really ticks you off. I’m not some hard-up ivy league brotha who lives to serve you.”
“And I’m not some football groupie who will hang onto your every word, let you lie to me, and pretend it’s all good.”
He held up his hands, in mock surrender. “I’ve known you for less than an hour, but I can already see that you’re wound so tight, it would take a pair of pliers to get you to relax. You can’t even laugh about what happened in the elevator. I was just making conversation, that’s all. I didn’t set out with a master plan to deceive you. And I’ll tell you this, I don’t care how beautiful you are – with an attitude like yours, you’d be the last person on my list to call.”
“Then we’re in agreement,” she told him. “I’m not your type and you’re definitely not my type. Let’s just get through this tour and we’ll never have to see each other again.”
“Oh no,” he shook his head. “I still owe you a date.”
She waived him away with her hand. “That is not necessary. I’m releasing you from your obligation.”
Tristan gave a laugh that sounded more like a snort. “You can’t release me. My contract is with Mercy, not you. And despite my personal feelings, I’m a man of my word. I always honor my debts.”
* * *
The tour was enlightening. Tristan thought Alexa was just going to rush through it, show him a few select areas, and then throw him out the back door. But she surprised him by giving him a lengthy tour that lasted an hour. She was the perfect guide, giving him interesting details about every aspect of the hospital. Her voice was soothing but clear, as if she delivered this type of presentation every day. The more she talked, the more she transformed into someone else. Her attitude was gone, and she was acting like a true physician instead of a full-time ball buster.
Alexa seemed to know everything about the hospital. She escorted him to Radiology, Hematology, and Neurology, showing him how each department worked and explaining their connection to each other. They briefly walked through the sensitive areas of Cardiology, Pediatrics and the emergency room, which was crowded with people suffering with everything from broken bones to severe colds. She also showed him some of the high-tech medical equipment the hospital used to make daily diagnoses, including the CAT scan machine, MRI scanners, and ultrasound imaging. He never knew so much went on behind the scenes of a hospital. When they ventured into the physical therapy wing, he recognized the whirlpool steam bath and the treadmill. The Predators had access to similar equipment. Thankfully, he’d only suffered minor injuries while playing, so he’d rarely had to use it.
Their next stop was the third floor, where Alexa pointed out the enormous cafeteria, buzzing with activity in preparation for the lunch hour. The faint odor of chicken fried steak made his stomach growl. Then she treated him to a brief tour of the Security Lounge, which was set up like a CIA surveillance lab. Cameras monitored all the hallways and common areas of the hospital. A wall of TV monitors captured the daily action as it unfolded. He felt sorry for the employees who had sit and watch the cameras all day. He would go nuts in here. He’d never been diagnosed with ADHD, but he found it hard to sit still for more than thirty minutes without becoming fidgety. He liked to be where the action was, which was why he loved playing football.
By the end of the tour, Alexa had shown him practically every inch of Mercy. She even took time to visit the on-call rooms in the basement of the hospital. “When I first started working here, this is where I slept,” she told him. “These on-call rooms are available for hospital staff and interns who are required to be on call twenty-four hours a day.”
He looked around at the modest room equipped with three beds and a shower. There was also a coffeemaker, a couch, a television and a small table stacked with magazines. “This place has everything except a stove and the kitchen sink,” he said.
“That’s because cooking is not allowed. It’s considered a violation of the fire and sanitation safeguards. Now, at least, staff members are allowed a coffeemaker and a microwave. When I was an intern, we couldn’t even have that.” She sat down on one of the beds and patted the mattress. “Still rock solid after all these years,” she quipped.
“It must have been tough,” he empathized. “I can’t believe you actually slept here.”
“Yeah, pretty pitiful, I know. I went to medical school for six years just to camp out in the hospital basement. Being a doctor was not the glamorous life I’d envisioned.”
He smiled. “Yeah, I know what you mean. On my first day at training camp, after twelve hours of running plays, sprinting, tackling, being tackled, and being yelled at, I had a new respect for professional football players.”
“How old were you?” she asked.
“Twenty-two. Fresh out of college. How ‘bout you?”
“Twenty-five.”
He did the math in his head. It didn’t add up. “Twenty-five seems pretty young to have graduated from college and medical school. What are you, some kind of brainiac?”
This time it was her turn to smile. “I graduated from high school when I was sixteen.”
He was impressed. “Well, that explains it. So, what did your parents think about their little girl being stuck in the basement, on call for twenty-four hours a day?” He’d only meant to tease her, but when he noticed a pained look on her face, he realized he’d touched a raw nerve.
“They passed away when I was young,” she explained. “In a tragic car accident.”
Damn! Why did I have to ask? “I’m sorry,” he apologized.
“Don’t be.” She abruptly stood up and faced him. “It happened a long time ago.”
He nodded, not sure what to say. His mother was a royal pain in the butt at times, but at least she’d been around. He couldn’t imagine, losing both parents at a young age. Part of him wanted to wrap Alexa in his arms and comfort her. And he would have done it if he wasn’t damn sure he’d be rewarded with a hard slap. The other part of him wanted to ask how she’d survived all these years. Who raised her? How did she have the courage to go on? But that was none of his business. And so
mehow, he knew Dr. Kennedy would waste no time in reminding him of that.
To ease the tension, he changed the subject. “So, where do you work?” he asked.
“In the burn unit,” she said. “I purposely didn’t take you there because it’s a little hard for some people to stomach.”
He pretended to be insulted. “Woman, so far today, I’ve seen blood, broken bones, and even someone throwing up. And I can still smell the bleach from the laundry. At this point, I’m pretty sure I can handle the burn unit.”
She gave him a challenging look. “Okay, Pretty Boy. You asked for it. Follow me.”
Tristan grinned as he watched her walk away. “Hold up! You think I’m pretty?”
* * *
The burn unit was located on the fifth floor. Alexa kept her emotions in check as she pushed all thoughts of her parents from her mind. She never stopped grieving for them, but it hurt too much to relive the past right now. Especially with Tristan at her side. She didn’t want him to know her weaknesses.
She could feel her demeanor change from the moment her heels hit the polished linoleum floor. Her nurturing instinct immediately took over. She would be the first to admit that she was overprotective when it came to her patients. She felt personally responsible for each one. The burn unit was her whole purpose in life. She lived, ate and breathed for it. She felt as if God had put her on this earth to help these victims. Why else had she been given this unique talent? It was her destiny, her calling.
She was picky about letting outsiders on this floor. Many of her patients had been scarred not only physically, but mentally as well. Some felt they’d been blessed with a second chance, but others felt only the negative impact of their burned skin. This was a place for them to heal in private. She wanted them to feel peace and relaxation without having to suffer looks of horror or pity from the prying eyes of strangers. Tristan Rexford was an incredibly handsome man used to being surrounded by celebrities and beautiful people. She wondered how he would react to the patients here.
“We have thirty beds on this floor,” she told him. “There are fifteen rooms with two beds each.” She watched him nod silently as his eyes roamed the long hall. “Mercy is the premier burn unit in the city. Our facility is second only to Brooke Army Medical Center in San Antonio.”
She led him into a room where only one bed was occupied. One of her patients, a young boy of fourteen, was lying on his back in the bed against the window. His face, chest and arms were all wrapped in thick bandages. His hands, covered in white gauze, were propped up on two pillows for support. He was a difficult patient, but she needed to check on him, so now was as good a time as any.
“Hello Paul,” she said as she approached him. “How are you feeling today?”
“Horrible,” he complained. “My hands itch like crazy and I can’t even scratch ‘em.”
“Itching means the skin is healing,” Alexa smiled. “It’s a good sign.”
“Well, it ain’t fair,” he mumbled. “My face hurts too. I’m tired of being here.”
Alexa was sympathetic to his plight. It was harder for children to recover sometimes, despite the fact that their bodies usually healed more quickly than adults’ bodies. She was sure he’d rather be riding his bike or playing with his friends. “The nurse told me you refused to take your medication. The sooner you do that, the sooner you’ll be able to leave. I can’t release you until I know for sure that you’re safe from infection.”
He gave her a sour look. “I hate that stuff. It tastes nasty. And I hate the nurse. She won’t even let me use the bathroom by myself.”
Alexa heard a discreet cough behind her. Tristan. She’d almost forgotten he was there. “Paul, I hope you don’t mind. I bought a visitor with me today.” She turned and pointed. “This is –”
“T-Rex!” Paul whispered, almost in awe.
Alexa saw his eyes light up with excitement. “You know him?” she asked.
“Yeah,” Paul answered, his eyes never leaving Tristan. “Man, you’re like the greatest quarterback ever,” he told him.
“Thanks,” Tristan replied. “I appreciate that.”
“My friends are never going to believe I met you. I would shake your hand, but …”
“Don’t sweat it,” Tristan said. “Shaking hands is overrated anyway. But I’ll tell you what. If you listen to Dr. Kennedy and do everything she tells you, I’ll send over a signed football for you. You and your friends can play with it as soon as you’re better. Deal?”
Paul smiled, his grin slightly restricted by the bandages on his face. “Deal!”
Tristan smiled back. “All right. Give me high five, playa.”
Paul was beaming as he lightly touched his gauze-encased hand to Tristan’s open palm. Swabbed in bandages, his hand was double its normal size, but it still dwarfed in comparison to Tristan’s large fingers.
Alexa stared in amazement at the two of them. In less than five seconds, Tristan had managed to change Paul’s mood and make him smile – something she hadn’t been able to do since he’d arrived a week ago. “I’ll be back to check on you later,” she told Paul.
“Okay,” he happily agreed.
Alexa marveled at his improved disposition as she and Tristan left the room. “Thank you,” she told him. “I’d never seen that boy smile until you came through the door.”
He gave her a seductive grin. “I have that effect on people.”
Her breath caught like a butterfly in a net. Tristan was too gorgeous for his own good. But he was right about one thing – he did have quite an effect on people, including her.
“So what happened to him?” Tristan asked.
“His mom’s a single mother. She left him home alone. He was playing with firecrackers when one blew up in his face. He suffered second and third-degree burns over his face, chest, arms and hands.”
“Poor kid.”
“Yeah,” Alexa agreed. “But he got off lucky. We have patients that come here in much worse condition. Some of them spend months here. For the really severe cases, we offer skin grafts, cosmetic surgery, physical therapy, and even lifestyle counseling. We try to make them as comfortable as possible during their stay.”
“I didn’t know the hospital offered so many services.”
“We do the best we can. Of course, all of this comes with a high cost. We rely on contributions from sponsors and generous donors to help us pay for the treatments we use, all of the machinery we use, and the salaries to pay the staff members. I’ll show you some of the equipment we use if you have time.”
“I’d like that.”
Alexa walked him through the rest of the floor. She could see that Paul wasn’t the only one in awe of Tristan. When word got out that the famous quarterback was on site, a small following of nurses hovered like a swarm of honeybees. Alexa was amused by their behavior. Ordinarily levelheaded nurses she’d known for years had turned into giggling groupies desperately hoping for a glance of the great T-Rex. As if a chance encounter with a famous athlete was the sole event they’d dreamed of since they’d left the womb!
Normally, there were anywhere from ten to twelve nurses assigned to this floor. But today, she’d seen at least thirty strange females and three male nurses – yes, they recognized a fine brotha too – all clamoring for a glimpse of Tristan. She’d never seen so many smiles, so many winks, and so much cleavage. It was sad, and yet somehow very comical.
Tristan seemed to be taking it all in stride. He even humored some of the staff by signing autographs and posing for pictures. Alexa watched his smooth manner. Everything about him exuded a sensual confidence. Even his walk was sexy – and he probably knew it. He was easy-going with everyone and people seemed to adore him. He had the whole package. Dark eyes you could get lost in, a brilliant smile that belonged on a toothpaste commercial, and a body to rival all bodies.
For a few moments, she allowed herself to imagine the lines of his hard body beneath his business suit. She wondered what it would feel like to be
in his arms. To have his strong muscles wrapped around her. To have his hands stroking her in places that she’d kept hidden so long from any other man. She felt a shiver of excitement tiptoe down her spine. It was only when she heard Tristan’s deep voice ring out that she snapped from her erotic trance.
“We’d better get out of here,” he laughed. “I think I’m about to be mobbed.”
Quickly recovering, she grabbed his hand and led him down the hall and away from the chaos. Her body immediately reacted to his warm flesh, and she forced herself to ignore the intense heat that burned her fingertips. She imagined this was how her patients must feel. But she knew no medicine could assuage her symptoms.
By the time they arrived at her office, they were alone. She shut the door for privacy. “That completes the tour,” she told him. “This is my office, where I read up on the latest medical procedures and order equipment the hospital can scarcely afford.”
He laughed. “You’ve shown me everything except the broom closet.”
She shrugged her shoulders and smiled back. “No surprises there. Just a bunch of old mops.”
“I want to make a donation to the hospital,” he said. “I’ll have my agent contact the administrative offices later today and take care of it.”
Thank God. She already felt like a greedy politician begging for money. She hoped the Board would finally be satisfied. “Thank you,” she replied. “That’s very generous of you. And once again, thank you for the way you handled Paul. I’m so impressed with you.”
“No, you’re the impressive one,” he objected. “You’re saving lives and giving people a second chance. I can see how committed you are to your work.”
