by Keeland, Vi
He flexed both his hands open and closed. “Not too bad. Except my hands and feet tingle all the time. Doc said it’s nerve damage from the chemo. It better just be temporary.”
Otto had been diagnosed with stage four colon cancer last year. He was getting treatment, but the outlook wasn’t great, especially since it had spread in the months after he’d stopped his first round of treatments.
“Anything you can do for it?” I asked.
“More drugs. Doc said physical therapy might help. But I hate that shit.”
I smiled. Hockey players lived in a PT office. I always dreaded going, too. Just tell me the exercises, and I’ll be on my merry way. “What about acupuncture?”
“Pins and needles? That’s what I’m trying to get rid of, jackass. But you know what might help?”
“What?”
“Warmer weather. If you happen to know anyone looking for a facilities manager out on the West Coast, put in a good word for me.”
I shook my head with a grin. Otto had no intention of going anywhere, and we both knew it. But I hadn’t yet told him I was in talks with the LA team, though somehow he must’ve gotten wind. “I would say these walls must talk, but I’ve never had a conversation about another team in this place.”
Otto stood. He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, “No fucking selfies while driving that thing!” He grumbled as he sat back down. “Bunch of morons with those phones.”
I smiled. Yep. There was no better way to start my Saturday than time with Otto.
• • •
“Thank you for helping me.”
Jenna set a tray of veggies on my dining room table. She smacked her hands together, cleaning them off, and looked around. “Helping would imply you did something to contribute.”
I reached to take a carrot from the tray, but she swatted my hand. “Those are for the guests.”
“So I can’t eat any before they come?”
“I’ll let you eat one. But don’t dip it in the dip. You’ll mess up how nice it looks.”
Jenna’s husband, Tomasso, walked over. He grinned. “She won’t let you dip, huh? I warned you she was bonkers about shit like this when she offered you help.”
Jenna’s hands flew to her hips. “You called me bonkers? Next time you want to have people over, you can order and make things look nice. I’m sure everyone will love Ritz crackers with Cheez Whiz.” She was all of about five-two, a solid foot shorter than her tree trunk of a husband.
Yet he shoved his hands into his pockets with a sulk. “Sorry, babe.”
I chuckled.
“What are you laughing at?” She wagged a finger my way. “Go do something about that little furball over there. He keeps trying to get up on the coffee table where the charcuterie board is.”
I lifted my hands in surrender. “Yes, ma’am.”
I took the dogs into the kitchen and fed them, even though it wouldn’t stop them from trying to swipe something.
A little while later, the first guests arrived. I’d invited twelve people—or rather Jenna had. She’d said it was the perfect number to qualify as a party, but also not so many that I’d have to spend all night playing host, which would take away from my time with Georgia. I didn’t argue, since she was doing all the work, but the people coming were my friends—they wouldn’t give a crap if I ignored them. Which was exactly what I’d be doing once Georgia got here. The woman had gotten to me.
At about eight, almost everyone had arrived, except the person I was throwing this sham of a party for. My cell was on the charger in the kitchen, so I went to go check if maybe she’d texted.
There’d been a missed call around six thirty and then a text around seven.
Georgia: Hey. I just wanted to make sure you got my voicemail. I’m sorry for canceling last minute.
Shit.
I swiped into my voicemail and hit play next to her name.
“Hey. It’s Georgia. I’m sorry to call at the last second, but I’m not going to be able to come tonight. I wasn’t feeling so hot yesterday, and this morning I woke up sort of achy and wiped out. I took some Motrin a few hours ago hoping I’d feel better and laid down for a little while, and I actually just woke up. I never nap, so I didn’t expect to pass out for almost three hours or I would’ve called sooner. Now my throat is a little sore, and I’m running a low fever. I feel awful for canceling on your birthday, but I’m not going to be able to come. I’m sorry, Max. I hope you have a great party.”
I frowned. This sucks. When I read the text, I assumed she was blowing me off. But she didn’t sound so good, and that caused an ache in my chest. So I hit Call Back and leaned against the counter, waiting for her to answer.
On the third ring, I thought I was about to go to voicemail, but then she answered. Her voice sounded worse than on the message.
“Hey,” she croaked.
“You don’t sound so good.”
“Yeah, I don’t feel too hot. It hurts when I swallow, and my head weighs a hundred pounds. I’m really sorry I can’t come.”
“It’s fine. I’m sorry you’re not feeling well.”
“I don’t think I’ve been sick in ten years. Not even a cold. I’m sort of a big baby when I don’t feel well. You must think I’m a total wimp. Hockey players play with broken bones and injuries all the time.”
“Nah. That’s different.”
She laughed. “Thank you for lying. How’s your party going?”
“It’s fine. Four is being his usual con self. He’s perfected the big-eyed, pitiful stare that women fall for. He sits at their feet and looks up until they lift him and tell him how cute he is. Then he eyes whatever they’re eating as if he hasn’t been fed in a year. Nine times out of ten, I get yelled at for not feeding him enough. Meanwhile his bowl of dog food is full in the kitchen. If he were a human, he’d be one of those guys who run shill card games that take tourists for all their money near Penn Station.”
Georgia laughed, but the laugh rolled into a coughing fit. “Sorry. Excuse me.”
“No problem.”
She sighed. “I was looking forward to meeting Four.”
“He was looking forward to meeting you, too. You’ll have to make it up to him.”
I heard the smile in her voice. “Just him? Not the birthday boy?”
“Well, if you’re offering…”
Jenna burst into the kitchen. “The caterer is here with the hot food for dinner.”
“Hang on a second, okay?” I covered the phone. “Will you do me a favor and tell them to come in here. I’ll be off in a minute.”
“Sure. I also need you to open more red wine.”
“Okay.”
Once Jenna shut the kitchen door, I took my hand off the phone. “Sorry about that.”
“It sounds like you’re busy. I’ll let you go.”
As much as I didn’t want to hang up, I knew I should. “Alright, yeah. I’ll check in with you tomorrow to see how you feel.”
“Have a great time at your party, and happy birthday, Max.”
“Thank you. Feel better. Get some sleep.”
After I hung up, I paid the caterers and opened a few more bottles of wine. I tried to keep my head in a few conversations, but my heart just wasn’t in it. So when I noticed Jenna going into the kitchen with an empty tray, I followed her.
“How much of an asshole would I be if I slipped out of my own party for an hour or two?”
“Where the hell would you go?”
“To Georgia’s. She’s not feeling well.”
“I was wondering why she wasn’t here. Do you think she’s lying and you want to go over and see if she’s really home or something?”
I shook my head. “No, I believe her. Thought maybe I’d pick up some soup and throat lozenges.”
Jenna smiled. “You really like her, huh?”
“I know I’m going to regret telling you this, but…the only reason I even had people over tonight was because she agreed to come to a party, bu
t she wouldn’t go out with me.”
Her smile widened and she sing-songed her words. “Pretty Boy got turned do-own.”
“Why does that make people so happy to hear?”
“Because it’s entertaining to watch you be treated like a mere mortal—you know, like the rest of us.”
I rolled my eyes. “Will you hold down the fort for an hour or two? Just feed people and liquor them up.”
Jenna waved her hand. “Go.”
I leaned down and kissed her cheek. “Thanks, Jen.”
As I reached the kitchen door, she yelled after me, “Wait!”
I turned back.
“Take Four with you. Women are suckers for that little guy.”
• • •
I might’ve overdone it.
I’d bought so much crap on my way over that I had to set two of the bags on the floor to knock on Georgia’s apartment door. I’d decided not to call first, which right about now I was second-guessing. The woman didn’t even want to go out with me, and here I was showing up at her building and checking the mailboxes like a stalker to see what apartment she lived in. What had seemed like a good idea suddenly felt a little desperate.
But fuck it, I was here already—and with enough over-the-counter medicines to open a small pharmacy—so I knocked.
Once I did, my heart raced like I was thirteen, alone in the dark movie theater with Amy Chase. What the hell had come over me? I wasn’t sure, but when no one came to the door right away, I debated whether I would knock a second time. What if she was sleeping? I didn’t want to wake her if she was resting. Just as I’d decided to head back home if she didn’t come to the door in the next minute, someone opened the door to the apartment next to hers, and Four started to bark like a lunatic. His high-pitched chirp echoed through the hallway, and the old man who’d stepped out jumped. He was so startled, he nearly fell over. I tried to calm my six-pound guard dog while apologizing.
Then before I could shut Four up, Georgia’s door whipped open.
“Max?” Her brows pulled together. “What are you doing here?”
I bent and scooped up the bags of supplies, holding them like a peace offering. “I brought you some soup. And throat lozenges. And…other stuff.”
She patted a big knot of hair on top of her head. “I look like crap.”
Georgia had on a fluffy pink robe, not a stitch of makeup, and oversized, dark-rimmed glasses that were crooked on her face. Her eyes were puffy and her nose red, yet she still looked beautiful.
I reached out and straightened her glasses. “You look adorable.”
“You’ll get sick.”
“I’ll risk it.” She looked clammy, so I felt her forehead. “You have a fever.”
“I ran out of Motrin.”
“Well, then it’s a good thing I came. Can I come in?”
Her eyes dropped down to Four. “Oh my God, he’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”
I inwardly fist pumped. Nice call, Jenna. I’d have to remember to send her flowers.
Georgia opened the door all the way and stepped aside with her hands out. “Can I hold him? Or maybe keep him forever?”
Or a car. I might owe Jenna a car.
Inside, her apartment was really nice—exposed brick in the living room, a decent-size kitchen with stainless-steel appliances, high ceilings, and not surprisingly, there were flower arrangements all over. It also smelled pretty incredible. I walked to the kitchen counter and started to unpack the stuff I’d picked up at the drug store. Finding the Motrin, I peeled open the bottle and shook out two pills. Then I helped myself to the refrigerator and grabbed a water, twisting open the cap as I walked to the living room where Georgia already had Four on her lap on the couch.
“Take these,” I said.
“Thank you.” She swallowed the pills and chugged some water.
“Are you hungry? I brought some chicken soup.”
Georgia shook her head. “I haven’t had much of an appetite at all today. But maybe I’ll force myself to eat some in a bit, when I’m done loving on this little guy.”
She dug her nails into Four’s head, and he nuzzled against her chest. With his head in her cleavage, the little furball glanced back in my direction. I could’ve sworn he was gloating.
Yeah, I am jealous, you little shit.
I grabbed the other bag I’d brought and sat beside Georgia on the couch.
“There’s an old record store next to the pharmacy I stopped at. The sign in the window said they also sold movies, but the pickings were pretty slim.” I reached into the bag and pulled out two of the three movies I’d bought. “This one is silent, and this one isn’t. I didn’t know if you preferred one over the other.”
Georgia’s mouth hung open. “Black and white? How did you know I loved old movies?”
“You mentioned it the night we met.”
“I did?”
I nodded. “I think it was when you were telling me how little you had in common with your blind date.”
“I don’t even remember that.”
I shrugged. “I also got this one.”
Georgia took the movie from my hand, laughing. “The Phantom Menace? Didn’t you tell me this one is the worst of all the Star Wars movies?”
“It is. But I was hoping maybe it would bring me luck again.” I wiggled my eyebrows.
Georgia smiled. “You’re going to try to feel me up when I’m sick?”
I held up my hands. “I wasn’t going to, but if that’s what the powers that be wanted…”
She laughed and then grabbed her throat. “Oww… Don’t make me laugh. It hurts.”
Damn, her smile made my chest feel funny. I wondered if I might be coming down with something, too.
Georgia held Four up in the air, smiling at his tiny face. “I can’t believe this little guy is your dog. He’s so freaking cute. What you must look like walking the streets with him. Do you even notice the women fainting as you pass?”
When I smiled, she pointed to my cheeks. “Put those things away, Yearwood. I’m weak. Flashing those dimples isn’t playing fair.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I smiled more, making sure to showcase what she apparently liked.
Georgia stroked Four’s head. “I’m surprised your party ended so early. It’s barely nine o’clock.”
I shook my head. “It’s not over. I just ducked out for a little while.”
“You left your own birthday party?”
I shrugged. “There’s plenty of food and booze. Most of them won’t even notice I’m gone.”
“I cannot believe you left your own birthday party to come nurse me.”
I leaned to her. “Can I tell you a secret?”
“What?”
“I only threw the party so you’d come anyway.”
Georgia stopped petting Four. “Are you serious?”
I nodded. “It didn’t work out too well, did it?”
“I don’t quite get you, Max Yearwood.”
“What do you mean?”
“You have to be able to walk into a room full of beautiful, single women and cozy up to almost anyone you want. So why are you over here risking getting sick for someone who comes with a truckload of baggage?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. We can’t control chemistry, I guess. Can you honestly say you don’t feel anything when we’re near each other?”
“I’m attracted to you, yes. I’ve admitted that.”
“Chemistry is more than an attraction. I want to spend time with you, even if it’s just sitting here right now.”
She studied me. She still seemed to be trying to figure out if I was feeding her a line of shit. I’m not sure if she made it to a final conclusion on the subject, because she suddenly started sneezing. Not once, not twice, but at least a dozen times. Each time, the pile of chestnut hair on top of her head bounced around and jerked back and forth. She reached forward to the coffee table, grabbed a box of tissues, and buried her face in them until she finally stopped.
“God bless you,” I said.
“Thank you.” Her nose and mouth were still covered when she looked over the tissues with watery eyes. “Still feeling that chemistry?”
I grinned. “I do find the way your bun flops back and forth kinda cute.”
She laughed and blew her nose. “You’ve taken one too many sticks to the head, Pretty Boy.”
“Maybe.” I felt Mother Nature calling, so I looked around the room. “Is it alright if I use your bathroom?”
Georgia pointed to a hallway. “Of course. First door on your right.”
After I relieved myself and washed my hands, I turned to find a hand towel. But the bar that usually had one was filled with something else. Thongs. Lace ones. Two black, two cream, and a red. I stared down at them longer than was likely appropriate. For a few seconds, I might’ve even wondered if she would notice one missing. But then I dried my hands on my pants and forced myself to exit the bathroom like a respectable human being.
Georgia was slouched on the couch in the middle of a yawn when I walked back in.
“Why don’t you have a little soup, and I’ll put on one of the movies I bought so you can rest, and I’ll get going.”
“Will you have some soup with me?”
I hadn’t eaten anything before I left the party, so I nodded. “Sure.”
Georgia went to stand. I put my hand up. “Stay there. I’ll bring it to you.”
“Thank you.”
In the kitchen, I rummaged through her cabinets until I found the bowls. Then I searched some more to see if she had any saltines. She didn’t, and I noticed her food stock was pretty sparse overall.
“I take it you don’t cook much?” I passed her a bowl of soup and a spoon and sat down with my own on the couch next to her. “Your cabinets are pretty bleak.”
“Yeah, not really. I work late a lot, and it sort of sucks to cook for one person.”
“Are you hinting that you’d like to make dinner for me? Because if you are, I accept.”
She laughed. “What about you? Do you cook?”
“Now you want me to cook for you? Make up your mind, woman.”
Her smile widened. I could sit here all night breathing in her germs if she kept that smile on her face. Even her pale skin and puffy eyes didn’t stop me from wanting to kiss her. I had to force my eyes back to my soup.
