Seeing Wes looking so healthy and seemingly happy sent warmth and pride flowing through Paige. Tonight was a far cry from where he’d been at the crux of his illness, and the reason she loved her job. No, she couldn’t help all patients, even though she did everything she could, but those like Wes, who went into remission, helped her deal with the bad stuff.
He set his glass on the table before glancing around.
Was it time to say goodbye?
Wes knew how to contact her, but Paige wasn’t ready for the night to end. She wanted to know more about his life post-cancer.
She glanced into her cup. “I still have some hot cocoa left. If you have to be somewhere, go ahead and take off. I want to finish my drink before I leave.”
“I can stay.” He leaned back in his chair. “I haven’t drunk all of mine and don’t want it to go to waste.”
She nearly laughed. Wes could buy his own coffee shop without a second thought, but he wanted to drink the last drop of his Americano. Maybe that was why he’d amassed so much wealth. He didn’t waste money.
“So what have you been up to?” she asked.
He stretched out his legs. “I was just about to ask how you spend your time when you’re not working.”
“I’ll start because my life is the definition of boring, so it won’t take me long,” she admitted. “My days don’t vary. Everything revolves around work. When I get home, I eat. I might watch television and read, but there are times I’m too tired and fall into bed. I occasionally go out with a group of friends, but most of them are now in relationships or married. It can be difficult being the odd person out, so I try not to put myself into that situation too often.”
Pathetic, but true.
“I have little free time outside of the hospital, and I tend toward being a homebody. As I said, boring,” she added.
Wes leaned forward. “Having a routine isn’t boring. It’s better than filling every minute with things you don’t really enjoy doing.”
She raised a brow. “Speaking from experience?”
“Maybe.” Humor lit his eyes. “Let’s just say, some positives came out of the cancer. I rethought what I was doing.”
“That happens more than you’d think.” She took a sip. “Second chances and all.”
A thoughtful expression crossed his face before he nodded. “I understand about being single when everyone else is part of a couple. Last year, my friend Brett got married. He was the only one of our friends who was. But now, four more have said ‘I do.’ Another has a girlfriend. Henry and I are the only unattached ones now.”
The two were flat-out catches as far as she could tell. “Both of you could remedy your relationship status if you wanted to.”
Wes smiled. “I suppose we could, but I don’t want to. Henry feels the same way.”
Paige remembered when Wes’s girlfriend had stopped coming to his appointments, and his friends stepped in to support him. He’d never said a word to her, but rumors about the socialite dumping him over his illness had been everywhere.
“So that’s why you need a plus-one for the dinner,” Paige teased.
“Guilty.” A beat later, he shook his head. “To be honest, I wasn’t sure I was going until tonight. I haven’t been to any events for a while.”
That surprised her. From what she’d heard, Wes had been a mainstay at galas and parties but maybe he’d stopped attending after his diagnosis. She would have thought he’d returned to the same social activities since he was better. “I’m honored, then.”
“You should be,” he deadpanned. “Seriously, Saturday will be good for both of us.”
“It will.”
Before she met Wes Lockhart, his reputation had preceded him. Her partners at the practice had raised concerns about his strong ego and personality to the point Paige worried how he would be as a patient. But the man who arrived for his first office visit had been the opposite of a brash, corporate raider who fired employees at the companies he took over.
Something clattered against the floor behind the counter.
The sound jolted Paige. She’d forgotten they weren’t alone in the coffee shop.
“I told you about me.” What little there was to tell, but he didn’t know that. “It’s your turn.”
Wes fiddled with the edge of a small napkin. “Work is still the biggest part of my life, but I’ve cut back my hours.”
She remembered when he’d told her his daily schedule. “Does that mean you’ve gone from a hundred twenty-plus hours a week to what, eighty or ninety?”
Wes laughed. “I didn’t realize you knew me that well.”
Paige shrugged, but the last thing she felt was indifferent. His workload had concerned her when he was sick because she’d known he wouldn’t be able to keep up that pace during his treatments. “You get to know someone after two years.”
Though she had a feeling he couldn’t say the same thing about her. Which was on purpose.
“I’ve been trying to find a better balance,” he admitted.
One of his biggest fears had been what effect his cancer would have on his company, W.E. Lockhart Inc., aka WEL. But both had survived, and he appeared to be thriving. She hoped his company was, too.
Paige respected Wes, but it had nothing to do with his success or wealth. At his weakest physically, he’d shown admirable strength and determination. Now he was taking care of himself, which made her proud.
“I don’t want work to be my life,” he added.
“I’m so happy to hear that.” Paige worked even when she planned to be off. But one of these days, she would have the life and schedule she wanted. “Maybe you can give me pointers on how to do that.”
He flashed her a lopsided grin. “Isn’t the doctor supposed to know best?”
“We’re still human.”
“No, you’re not.” His voice was firm, and she couldn’t tell whether or not he was kidding. “You keep your cape and superpowers hidden, but you have them and use them.”
If he wanted to see her as a caped cancer crusader, who was Paige to argue with that? She feigned outrage. “Who told you?”
That made him laugh. Her, too.
Paige had no idea how long she and Wes talked, but she enjoyed every minute. When she raised her cup to take a sip, no hot cocoa remained, that didn’t stop their conversation that never dragged. Topics bounced from football—both of them rooted for Seattle—to the Nutcracker ballet—they disagreed over whether it needed to be seen more than once.
A barista approached the table. He wore a black apron over his long-sleeved T-shirt and jeans. “We’re closing in a few minutes. If you want anything to go, please order it now.”
As the guy returned to the counter, Paige pulled out her phone. It was almost ten. “I lost track of the time.”
“Me, too. I had no idea they were about to close.” Wes scooted back in his chair. “Ready?”
Nodding, she stood, put on her coat, and exited the coffee shop. As he shrugged on his jacket, he followed her.
Outside an older man with a small white dog wearing a pink sweater passed by them. A few cars were on the road, but not as many as earlier.
The temperature had dropped, too. Her breath hung on the air. “Thanks for the drink. This was nice.”
“It was.” Wes put on his gloves. “I’ll walk you home.”
“It isn’t far.” She left her mittens in her pocket to emphasize how close she lived.
“Humor me.”
Two words that could be taken a different way, but his tone was concerned, not condescending.
Paige knew the risks of living in the city. If she felt unsafe, she didn’t walk home alone, but Wes didn’t know that about her. Not really. He’d only interacted with her as his doctor until tonight. “Okay, I’ll humor you. It’s to the left.”
She headed in that direction.
As he fell in step beside her, his smile warmed her insides, reaffirming she’d done the right thing.
“Thank you,�
�� he said.
She zipped up her jacket to keep from getting chilled. “That should be my line after everything you’ve done or are doing for the cancer center and me.”
“What you did when I was sick trumps everything, including the donation.”
Paige probably shouldn’t ask, but she wanted to know. “Is that why you’re donating?”
“Yes and no,” Wes admitted. “You did so much for me, I want to help you. But others need the cancer center.”
“I appreciate your honesty.” Wishing she’d pulled out her gloves, she shoved her hands into her pockets. “I hope you know a payback isn’t required.”
“I know. But…”
The way his voice trailed off piqued her curiosity. “What?”
“With the cancer in remission, I’ve been given a second chance.” His earnest tone tugged at her heart. “I want to make the most of it.”
“Is that how you ended up being Santa tonight?”
“Henry needed help. He thought this was a good start.”
“A great one. I can’t wait to see what you do next.”
“Really?” He spoke louder, like an excited kid.
Talk about adorable. Which was a word she had never associated with Wes Lockhart before.
“Really,” Paige repeated. “After everything you’ve been through, this new direction is inspiring. I’m so happy you want to live life to the fullest and help others.”
His grin lit up his face. “That means a lot.”
She stopped in front of her building’s entrance. “This is me.”
He appeared to study each of the four floors. “Cool place. Lots of character.”
“It was built in 1905 but has gone through many updates since then. The former owners of my condo kept the architectural details when they remodeled. When I saw it during an open house, I fell in love and made an offer on the spot.” Paige wasn’t ready to say goodbye, but she didn’t feel like inviting him up, either. That might be too much. “Well, it’s getting colder, and you need to get to your car. Thanks for hanging out with me tonight. It was a nice way to cap off the weekend.”
“We can do it again next week.”
“It’s a date.” Heat pooled in her cheeks. “Er, plan.”
He laughed. “Either works.”
If this were a date, a kiss would happen. Either by her or him. But it wasn’t a date, so she wouldn’t. Hugging him probably wasn’t a good idea, either, even if it would be one of gratitude. She pulled out her key ring from her purse.
“I’ll be in touch soon,” he said.
“Okay.” She stared at him as if transfixed. Funny, but he was looking at her the same way.
A horn honked on the street around the corner. The noise jolted her back to reality. She’d better get inside before she did or said something she might regret. Focusing on the door, she stuck her key in and opened it. “Goodnight, Wes.”
* * *
I didn’t say goodnight.
Heading toward the coffee shop, Wes groaned. He’d enjoyed being with Paige, but he felt off. Uncertain. Stupid. He’d spoken with some of the richest and most powerful people in the world. But none made him as nervous as she had.
Why?
An SUV double-parked on the street. As the passenger window rolled down, the sound of Christmas music grew louder. Craig, a member of Wes’s security team, smiled. “A little cold for a stroll.”
“Brisk air is good for the lungs,” Wes replied.
“Until you wind up with pneumonia.”
Craig was in his late forties with salt-and-pepper hair and a muscular frame. He’d followed them from the hospital to the coffee shop and then to her condo. Wes barely paid attention to the guys anymore. They were just part of his life, but Paige hadn’t seemed to notice.
“Ready to go home?” Craig asked.
“Yes.” Wes slid into the back seat and shut the door. Welcome heat surrounded him. “Didn’t mean to keep you out so long.”
“It’s my job.” Craig glanced in the rearview mirror. “You’re smiling big. You must have had fun.”
“I did.”
Tonight hadn’t turned out as Wes expected, but he enjoyed getting to know Paige. Saturday night would be more bearable with her at the dinner.
“She’s pretty,” Craig said in a matter-of-fact tone.
“We weren’t on a date.” If they had been, Wes would have kissed Paige. That would have been a nice way to end…
No, he shouldn’t go there.
“Didn’t say it was.” Craig sounded like he was trying not to laugh, which was typical for the former Special Forces staff sergeant. “But she’s still pretty.”
Paige was. Fresh-faced rather than made up. “Don’t let your wife hear that.”
“I’m married, not dead.” A new song played on the radio. Craig tapped his fingers against the steering wheel to the strains of “Sleigh Ride.” “My wife and I have an agreement. We can each look all we want but no touching. That’s served us well the past twenty-odd years.”
“Good to know.” Not that Wes needed an arrangement like that or would anytime soon. Throughout his twenties and early thirties, he’d dated casually. And then he’d met Annabelle.
Knots filled his stomach.
Wes pulled out his phone. He’d silenced it while he was playing Santa.
Text after text appeared on the screen.
His pulse kicked up. His hand shook.
Had something happened?
He unlocked the phone and scrolled to the first message.
Henry: Wes might bring a plus-one to Saturday’s dinner.
Kieran: Who is she?
Mason: It’s about time.
Adam: Let Wes do things on his own time.
Blaise: Is it the woman Hadley introduced him to?
Dash: Maybe I can still win the bet?
Brett: Wes will tell us if he’s bringing someone.
Henry: Is your goal in life, Brett Matthews, to take away all my fun?
Brett: You’ll thank me when you’re old and gray, Henry.
Henry: You mean when I’m a silver fox.
Mason: Tell us more about Wes’s date.
Wes groaned. Okay, he was relieved nothing bad had happened to anyone, but he hadn’t expected their group chat to turn into a discussion about his social life or the lack of one.
Craig glanced over his shoulder. “You okay, Wes?”
“Yes, it’s just…Henry.”
He laughed. “Say no more.”
Wes returned to the messages.
Dash: I thought Wes was taking a break from dating.
Blaise: He was still on a break last week when Hadley spoke with him.
Kieran: Maybe he changed his mind.
Henry: Wes is trying to figure out what he wants.
Mason: I hope it’s this woman. We need him to marry. Dash, too. That way, the bet’s called off, and we split the fund.
Dash: Marriage isn’t part of my five-year plan. It’s only recently been added to my vocabulary thanks to you lovesick fools.
Adam: Does Raina know this?
Dash: I’m pretty sure I told her.
Mason: Which means we’ll be getting a wedding invitation soon.
Brett: You should mention how you feel again, Dash. Raina seems really into you.
Kieran: Let’s get back on topic. I want to know who Wes is asking out.
Henry: I know the lucky lady, and he should have asked her by now.
Wes needed to stop them before they—well, Henry with an assist from Mason—had his life decided and non-existent children named. He tapped on his screen and sent a reply.
Wes: She’s not my date. I needed a plus-one.
Henry: I take it she said yes!!!!
Mason: Plus-ones can turn into more. A wife, even.
Henry: That’s the first intelligent thing you’ve said in three days. Good job, Mase.
Dash: Tell us who she is.
Wes gritted his teeth. He couldn’t have one evening with
out everyone wanting to know everything. But then again, he was guilty of doing the same to the others.
Wes: Paige Regis.
Blaise: Dr. Regis? Your oncologist?
Henry: Her specialty is hematology-oncology.
Kieran: Not an obvious choice for a plus-one, but good for you, Wes.
Dash: She’s smart.
Mason: She’s hot.
Adam: Mase!
Mason: She is. I’m just the only one brave enough to admit it.
Brett: Not sure I’d call it brave.
Wes rolled his eyes. Maybe asking Paige to go on Saturday hadn’t been such a good idea. His friends were as close as brothers, which meant they ribbed each other and argued like family.
Wes: I’m almost home. Later.
Dash: We want to know more.
Mason: Dating again is a big deal.
Adam: Wes said not a date.
Mason: Semantics. I can see the two of them together.
Henry: You may be onto something, Mase.
Kieran: Stop encouraging him!
Brett: Don’t encourage Henry, either.
Henry: I’m right here.
Blowing out a breath, Wes closed the app. He would rather replay the evening with Paige than listen to his friends bicker about his upcoming non-date.
Although Wes should make plans for Saturday. He wanted to give Paige a taste of Hood Hamlet. First on his list was a call to Muffy, who owned the coffee shop, to ask if she served peppermint hot chocolate. If not, he’d pay her to add it to the menu for the day.
Craig turned on to Wes’s street. They were almost home.
His phone rang. Based on the timing, he didn’t have to look at the screen to know who it was. “What do you want, Henry?”
“She said yes!”
The guy had reverted to a teenager. Ridiculous, but Wes answered because Henry was a friend despite how annoying he could be at times. “Paige did.”
The Wish Maker (The Billionaires 0f Silicon Forest Book 2) Page 5
