CONTEMPORARY ROMANCE TRILOGY

by Patrice Wilton

  Leila glanced at the papers on her desk, feeling torn with her need to finish, and her love for her daughter. Her daughter won out. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. It’s just that I’m trying to get caught up. But, heck, it can wait. What would you like to do?”

  “I don’t know. Something. You’ve only got another two weeks off and I remember how crazy your life got last year. I hated you working so hard. You never had time to do anything with me even on the days when I was well.”

  “Callie, I tried.” She felt torn in two again, as usual. But as long as her daughter was ill, she would feel guilty about enjoying her job so much. “I did the best I could.”

  Perhaps she should have taken an easier job at a small community college, where the expectations would have been less. But working at Rutgers, where she’d gone to school, and her own father had been tenured, had been like a dream come true. When the position in the English department became available two years ago, she hadn’t hesitated to apply. Whatever she had to do, she’d do. If it required working twenty hours a day, she’d go without sleep. She wanted this job and she aimed to keep it.

  Of course, she knew she’d had an inside track on the position because her father had been head of the English department for twenty some odd years. Many of the faculty members had already known her and had welcomed her warmly into their tight little circle, but others still withheld judgment, perhaps believing she hadn’t been the most deserving candidate for the position. Thankfully, she’d become popular with the students last year, probably because she was one of the younger women on faculty. Also, she’d made a point to be there for her students whenever they called, responding quickly by email or text-message, usually within hours.

  She knew she should keep working, but she wanted to appease her daughter. “Want to go out for some ice cream?”

  “At The Bent Spoon?”

  “Sure. It’s your favorite place, isn’t it?”

  Leila liked it because they made everything from scratch, with mostly local ingredients. The ice cream was a fusion between gelato and ice cream, and therefore had less fat but full flavor.

  “No." Callie’s sweet face turned sad. “I don’t feel much like going out. I just want to hang out here, with you.”

  “Why, honey? I thought it would be a treat and get us both out of the house.” She got up and walked over to her daughter. “What’s the problem?”

  Callie stared down at the floor. “That’s where all the kids from school hang out. I don’t want to go there.”

  Leila stiffened, feeling like someone had kicked her in the gut. “I see. Is there another place you’d rather go?” Familiar anger rose at how Callie’s friends had dumped her after she’d become so sick. Leila knew how callous and shallow teenagers could be, but understanding that and accepting it were two different things.

  “No,” Callie said. “Forget it, okay? I’m going upstairs to watch TV.”

  “Okay, hon.” Leila smiled brightly, pretending for both of them that everything was normal, and that this discussion had never happened. “I love you, sweetheart.”

  Leila tried to concentrate once her daughter was gone, but it was hard. Images kept flashing to mind. Little things like how her daughter had always been bustling with energy from the day she was born. She’d been a vibrant, outgoing child, never once timid with strangers or shy about making her presence known.

  Nick had doted on her, and had given her more than any child needed. But she’d never been spoiled. Callie was such a happy girl, and she had made everyone who knew her happy too. For the first seven years of her life, everything had been great.

  Then her father died, and a couple of years later her kidneys started failing. That was the beginning of their two-year nightmare.

  She closed her eyes and tried to quiet the swirling thoughts in her brain. Immediately, Ryan's image filled her mind. He seemed to lead a lovely, relaxed life. What did he do when he wasn’t on the boat? She couldn’t picture him in any other life. He was a free spirit, and after spending all those years locked up, why not? He certainly deserved his freedom.

  She toyed with the idea of calling him, just to find out if he’d been tested or not. Or was that simply an excuse to speak to him again? What time was it down under? She glanced at her watch. She knew Brisbane was sixteen hours ahead of east coast time, so that would make it around nine the following morning. It was a reasonable hour to call. He might be out on the boat, but she wouldn’t know unless she tried.

  An email was simpler, but she really wanted to hear his voice.

  ***

  Once Jamie left, Ryan threw his dirty laundry into the wash, made his bed, tidied up, then went for his three mile run on the beach. He was a highly disciplined man, and even after all these years of being able to do whatever he wanted, he kept to a routine. Sometimes, just to prove he could, he wouldn’t shave or make his bed in the morning, but usually by noon he was clean-faced, his bed was rumple-free, and his apartment was spotless.

  He figured it was his ADHD thing that kept him regimented, but whatever it was, he’d long ago accepted it. He showered after his run, and was just hanging his towel when he heard his cell phone ring. Due to the nature of his business, he had an international plan so he could talk to customers anywhere in the world.

  The towel wasn't hung evenly, the back hanging longer than the front. The phone would just have to wait until the towel was even. He gave it a tug, straightened the edges, and finally reached for his cell.

  “Ryan Warner,” he answered as he always did.

  “Ryan? Hi. This is Leila. I hope I’m not calling at a bad time.”

  Leila! This was unexpected—as was the light-hearted pleasure he felt at the sound of her voice. “No, not a bad time at all.” He cleared his throat, trying not to sound too glad to hear from her. “Everything’s fine. How’s Callie?”

  “Good for the moment. Thanks for asking.” There was a pause, and he knew she was probably angling away to ask whether or not he’d been tested.

  “Look,” he said, “I’m sure you didn’t call just to chit-chat, and I know what you want, but—“

  “Ryan,” she interrupted, “I have more than just Callie’s interests at heart.” He could hear her breathing, a couple of quick breaths. “I’ve been thinking about you, non-stop, and I’ve wondered how you’ve been. Obviously, I’m also concerned whether you’ve given any consideration to what we talked about.”

  He smiled at her rather formal manner—her professor mode, he decided. He guessed it meant she was nervous. “Sure, I have. I’m still torn about that," he told her honestly. "You know I’d love to help you out, but sometimes a man just can’t go back, and this is one of those times.”

  “Come on, Ryan. I’m not buying that. All I’m asking is one little favor.”

  Her pleasant tone wasn’t so pleasant anymore. She sounded ticked off. Not that he could really blame her, but hell, he had his reasons too.

  “All you have to do,” she said a little more sweetly, “is go to a lab and give them a blood sample, and they can fax the result to our hospital. How easy is that?”

  “Easy enough, but what’s the point if I’m not strapping me and my kidney into a seat and flying home?” He shouldn’t be feeling guilty about this, but she had managed to make him look like the bad guy without even trying. If something happened to the girl, everybody would once again blame him. Shit. He’d probably even blame himself.

  “I’m not coming back, Leila. I’m sorry. Hell, I wish I could get that kidney to you some other way.”

  “There isn’t any other way,” she snapped. “How selfish can you get? You don’t need to see your parents, if that’s a problem for you.”

  “Yeah, it’s a problem for me.”

  She sighed. “Would you let a little girl die because you’re too stubborn and filled with hate for your fellow man to do the right thing?”

  “I don’t hate my fellow man," he said, his voice rising. "I happen to like the company of my Aussie
mates very much. It’s the States that I never want to see again.”

  “Oh, get over it, will you? Grow up. Be a man for once.”

  “Excuse me?” he practically snarled. “You’re calling to ask me—no, to demand that I do something that pleases you for a niece that I’ve never met, and you do this by insulting me? Why the hell would I do anything for you or your family? It’s your family, not mine.”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to insult you. You just made me so mad.” Leila was silent for a long moment, then she spoke in a calm, reasonable tone. “There are no rules in life, Ryan. We make them up as we go along. You can do anything you want to do, and if you let the past define who you are and what your future holds, then you aren’t a free man after all, are you? Please come back home. I want this as much for you as for Callie. I really do.”

  “Why does my past or my future matter to you?” He knew neither did, of course. She was only playing him, working his emotions. Well, when it came to his family, he didn’t have any. “Look, you can’t fool me. The only reason you pretend to care is because of your daughter.”

  “That’s not true. I want you to be a part of this family. Nick would have wanted that too." He heard her voice waver. “Please, Ryan. This is important to me. I want to see that you get the respect you deserve. Your father had a stroke last year, and he won’t be around forever. I would like to see you make peace with him before it’s too late.”

  “I think that gesture needs to come from him, don’t you?” Ryan raked his hair back off his brow and closed his eyes. Heat was rising in the pit of his stomach, angry, hurting heat. His fingers tightened into a fist.

  “Not really. You’re the younger man. Why not be the better man?”

  His eyes popped open and he nearly laughed. “You’re pushy, you know that?” He rolled his head back and forth, working the kinks out of his neck.

  “So I’ve been told.”

  “The answer is still no.”

  “I would enjoy seeing you again, and I’d love for you to meet Callie. You’re the only uncle she has.”

  His shoulders slumped and all the tension went out of him. He knew he’d like to see Leila again too—and all for the wrong reasons. Even thinking of romancing his brother’s wife was wrong, and why did he always want to do the wrong thing? Couldn’t he, for once in his life, do the right thing?

  “I’ll tell you what,” he said. “I’ll go down tomorrow and have the blood test done. At least we’ll know if I’m a match.”

  She sighed, and he knew she’d won a small victory. But her voice was subdued when she asked, “If Callie starts to fail and you are a match, will you come?”

  “Maybe. But no promises, okay? Let’s take this one step at a time.”

  “Yes.” Her voice rose with excitement. “Thank you, Ryan. I knew it. I just knew it.”

  “You knew what?”

  “That you were a good guy inside.”

  After he hung up, Ryan stood motionless for a minute, wondering what in the world had gotten into him. A smug smile was on his face and he didn’t care. It was okay to feel good. He had as much right as the next guy.

  A couple of hours later he picked Jared up at his house to take him to the marina. The kid was mad about boats, and Ryan had taught him everything he needed to know about sailing, weather charts, the electronics on board, but mostly they just talked.

  “So, how’s it going at home?” he asked, watching Jared steer the boat away from the dock. They were on his private thirty-two foot sloop, just the right size vessel to still handle alone. Anything larger and he’d need help, which didn’t appeal to him at all. He was a loner by nature, and spending a couple of hours with a boy like Jared--or a woman--was about all the quality time he cared to share.

  “It sucks, you know.” Jared didn’t look at him, but kept his eyes glued ahead. As he should until they were well clear of other boats at the marina.

  “Beats the streets,” Ryan said casually.

  “Only just. Some nights I think I was better off fending for myself. At least I didn’t have to listen to my old man telling me what a loser I am.”

  “You’re not a loser, and one of these days you’re going to prove him wrong. Remember that. Stay away from alcohol and drugs, and show him that you can be a better man than he is. That’s your ultimate revenge, if you still think you need revenge.”

  “What about you?” Jared shot back. “You don’t talk to your family, so why should I?”

  He thought about Leila and Callie, and realized that he didn’t want to cut his ties to family completely. His mother and father were another story, but he’d been close to his brother growing up, and Nick would probably want him to keep an eye out for his wife and child. After so many years of feeling completely alone, it was kind of nice to think he might have someone to care about.

  He didn’t share his thoughts with Jared. Instead, he said what was expected of him. “You’re still a minor, and your parents love you and want what’s best for you.”

  “Bullshit. They stopped caring when I went to jail.” Jared looked at him out of the corner of his eye. “Like yours, right?”

  “My circumstances were different. I was older, for starters.”

  “Yeah, but how long does it take to live your past down?” Jared banged his hand on the wheel. “I mean, when will people start realizing that I paid for my fucking mistake and let it go, man?”

  “First you’ve got to forgive yourself.” Ryan tipped his cap lower on his forehead and looked out to sea. Maybe his forgiveness would come by helping out his niece. He hoped so, but first he had to be tested, and he had to be a match. Suddenly, he very much wanted to be.

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  Ryan answered, “You’re the one you have to please.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  “Tell me this isn’t going to hurt.” Ryan grinned at the nurse preparing to draw his blood. She reminded him of Michelle Pfeiffer, and he was falling in love fast.

  “This won’t hurt,” she answered softly, and then jabbed him with the mother of all needles. With an obvious effort she kept the smile off her face, even though Ryan saw a dimple flash. She was enjoying this, he knew.

  “Ouch! Thought you said you were good at this.”

  “I am. Sorry.” She gave him a big smile, which almost made up for the pain. “I was distracted when I caught you looking down my shirt.”

  “You can’t blame a man for that,” he said, grimacing as he saw red blood filling the vial attached to the monstrous needle. “You don’t mind me looking at you instead of the needle, do you?”

  “Not at all.” She met his eyes and he wasn’t sure, but he thought she blushed.

  Having a rather large needle stuck into his arm wasn’t really a bad thing, he decided. Not if it meant he could gaze into her baby blues and admire her pronounced cheekbones, the delicate nose, her delectable mouth. Hell, she looked so scrumptious, he might see if he could make a weekly appointment to give blood.

  She slipped the needle out and placed a cotton ball on the point of entry. “Hold that for a moment,” she said, sounding professional again.

  His time was running out, and he needed to make a move. “How long does it normally take to run a test?" he asked as she applied a plastic bandage over the cotton ball. “My niece has kidney failure, and I’m seeing if I’m a match.”

  “Why, that is very nice of you.” She smiled and he couldn’t tear his eyes away from that sexy mouth. “How old is your niece?”

  “She’s twelve. I think.” He shrugged. “I’ve never met her, but I saw her pictures and she looks older than that. Probably because she’s so darn sick. I’d hate to see anything happen to her.”

  “Of course you would. With any luck you’ll be able to come to her rescue.”

  “Problem is”--he ran his fingers through his hair, pushing it off his face--“she lives in the States, and I own my own business and can’t leave it for weeks on end. Is there any way the kid
ney can be transported without me? Her mother said no, but I’m not sure if that’s true. Can’t they just pack it in ice and have her ready to go?”

  “Don’t think so. It's a very expensive operation and they don’t have healthy kidneys to spare.” She’d moved to the other side of the small room to label his vial of blood. “The transplant team will want to give this the very best chance to succeed so she can live a long and healthy life. Isn’t that what you want for her?”

  She glanced at him, and he saw a little frown between her eyebrows. Wanting to get rid of it and win her full approval, he nodded solemnly. “It sure is, but I have a little problem with the logistics of returning to the States.”

  “Well, I hope you can figure something out, because if you are a match, she’s probably going to need it.”

  “I know. Her doctors are saying she can’t stay on dialysis much longer.” He stood up. “I thought dialysis patients lived normal, productive lives.”

  “Have you ever seen what these patients go through? If you’ve got some free time, I’m going to be off in an hour.” She tilted her head and pursed her lips, as if taking his measure. “I can take you to the ward and you can see for yourself.”

  “Haven’t had a better offer all day,” he replied, with a devilish grin.

  She didn’t smile back. “I’ll meet you in the lobby, near the flower shop, at two.”

  Ryan was there at two, admittedly not so much because he wanted to see what dialysis was like, but because he was hoping to score a date with the nurse, who had told him her name was Natalie. She took him to the hemodialysis unit, telling him that the patients came three times a week for four hours at a time.

  He knew basically what dialysis did—sent a patient's blood through a machine that removed waste, chemicals, and fluid from the blood, and then returned it to the patient. Seeing the actual procedure, however, was much different from just hearing about it.

  He watched as the nurses placed a soft plastic tube into an arm or a leg of a patient, and Natalie explained they were joining an artery and a vein under the skin. Some patients had a catheter inserted into a large vein in their neck, a treatment sometimes used for long-term care.