Unbelievable, Page 2

  “You like pastrami on rye?” He held the sandwich out to me. “I don’t want you to faint.” I looked up at him, unsure of what he meant. “You know, low blood sugar.” He gestured to the office we’d just left.

  “Oh, yeah, right. Thanks.” I took the sandwich, baffled by the gesture. Booker Gatto was proving to be a bit more complicated than I anticipated.

  The sandwich was amazing, and I hated that I liked it. If I weren’t starving, I wouldn’t have eaten it in the first place.

  I followed Booker across town to Port Fare General Hospital, concentrating on remaining calm. “You need to stay in control, girl.”

  The hospital stood six floors high and had two impressive sized wings on either side. Booker and I entered through the main entrance after parking in the visitor’s lot. I kept my portfolio tucked tight under my arm. I didn’t want to bring it in, but Booker insisted. The front doors slid open as we approached.

  I stepped back. I’d forgotten about the antiseptic smell that haunted hospitals. The scent pulled memories, some old and some not so old, I’d buried deep down in my soul. A reminder of all I’d lost. This is going to be harder than I thought.

  “You okay?” Booker took my elbow.

  I nodded. “So, this friend of yours, does he have a specific style in mind?” I asked, hoping to stay the memories as we approached the elevators.

  Booker pressed the up button on the wall, and the steel doors creaked opened. “Cole’s style. Hmm.” Booker seemed to be fighting a grin as we stepped inside. He pressed the third floor button. “Tell me, is utter bedlam a style, really?” He laughed. “In truth, Cole is one of the most generous and unassuming men that I’ve had the luck of knowing. His organizational skills, or lack thereof, are pretty much his only fault.” He shook his head and continued, speaking with just a hint of envy now. “There’s not a bit of guile in the man. He gives everyone the benefit of the doubt, and he never, ever crosses the line.” Booker looked at my quizzical expressions and laughed again. “I’m not kidding. Cole’s never even had a ticket, ever. Not for speeding, not for parking on the wrong side of the road, nothing. The guy’s a saint.”

  “I see. I’m not too fond of perfect people. They tend to make you feel inferior.” I ran a hand nervously over my hair again, smoothing the fly-aways down.

  “I may have painted him a little too perfectly,” Booker admitted as we stopped and the doors opened. He put his hand on the small of my back, guiding me out. It took every ounce of self-control I had not to rip it off. A shiver tore down my spine.

  “It’s a little chilly in here, isn’t it?” I said, trying to cover my reaction to him.

  “Maybe a little,” he said, looking at me strangely.

  Time to redirect. “What were you saying about Cole?”

  “Oh, yeah. The guy has zero organizational skills. He’s a brilliant doctor, mind you, but he’s not organized. He was promoted last month and his office is still a shambles.” Booker pointed to the second hall on the right and we headed for the second door. “He’s also a klutz. A serious klutz.”

  “Unorganized and a klutz aren’t such bad traits,” I pointed out as he reached for the door.

  “You’re right, they’re not. All kidding aside, Cole’s the most pure hearted person I’ve ever met. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear Mother Theresa had given birth to him herself. He makes me want to be a better man, know what I mean?”

  “I think he’s lucky to have a devoted friend like you,” I said honestly. The sincere expression in his eyes left no doubt he cared deeply about the klutz doctor.

  “Nope. I’m the lucky one,” Booker insisted as he shoved hard on the door. “It gets stuck. Think you can fix that while you’re decorating?” He rammed the door with his shoulder. It flew open and Booker stumbled inside, catching the door before it hit the wall.

  A tall man dressed in blue scrubs spun around to face us, hands wrapped tight behind his back, reminding me of a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. I opened my mouth to introduce myself when I looked up into the most amazing deep blue eyes I’d ever seen. The words froze in my throat. Booker forgot to mention that Cole was breathtakingly gorgeous.

  Chapter 2

  Cole

  Perfect timing. Of course Booker would show up just now. Maybe he won’t notice. I sighed aloud. Who was I kidding? He’d noticed. I pressed the gauze pad tight against the scrape on my elbow behind my back.

  “Hey, Doc.” Booker strutted in, his Cheshire grin solidly in place. Yup, he noticed. “What’s behind your back? Did you get me a gift?” he teased. “If it’s flowers, I hope they’re lilacs. You know I’m allergic to roses.” The petite girl with the chestnut brown hair standing by his side cocked an eyebrow up at him. Despite her black rimmed glasses, I couldn’t help but notice her soft brown eyes. A pretty little thing, but young. I’d guess her to be sixteen, maybe seventeen.

  “What are you doing here, Book? Shoot yourself again?” I grinned as Booker laughed.

  “No, not today. I finally decided what to get you as a ‘Congratulations on your promotion’ gift.” He held his hand out to the girl as she stepped into the room.

  “Umm, you got me a girl? I don’t think that’s legal. Besides, she’s a little young, don’t you think?” The girl giggled. I liked her laugh.

  “Good one, Doc. I do believe my sense of humor is finally rubbing off onto you.” He stepped closer. I moved a half-step back.

  “I’d like to hire her to organize this chaos.” He motioned to the stacks of papers and notebooks that were, well, in all the corners, really. “Her name is Lilah, and she is a per diem designer for Design-Aholics.” I looked at him blankly. “That’s the team I hired to decorate my new office complex. You never listen to me when we talk. I’m starting to think you don’t really care about me.” He sighed dramatically.

  That’s right. He did mention he hired Haley. Booker dated her a couple times, and when he realized she felt more for him than he did for her, he broke it off. Then, feeling guilty, he hired her to decorate his office.

  “I don’t need someone to organize my chaos. I’ve been busy, that’s all. This new assignment’s been one headache after another, literally. I’ve purchased so much aspirin lately, I’m thinking about acquiring stock in Excedrin to help recoup the money I’ve spent.” I rubbed the ache I felt building in my forehead already today. “Besides, this is a lot of work for one person. I wouldn’t want her to get behind in her school work. No offense,” I added to Lilah.

  “That’s exactly what I’m talking about, Doc. You work twenty-four/seven. Look around. You need help.” Booker parked himself on the corner of my desk.

  I shook my head in defeat. “Yeah, okay. I need help. But in my defense, I do plan on cutting back on my schedule soon.”

  “It’s in your blood, Doc. You’ll cut back when I cut back,” he pointed out accurately. “Come on. Let me stimulate the economy a little. Give this poor kid a job.”

  “Do you think you can finish it before school starts back up? How old are you anyway?” I asked.

  “I’m no longer in school. I’m—” she started.

  “Okay, Cole.” Natalie, a perky blonde nurse with small Korean flags embroidered on her scrubs entered the room carrying a roll of medical tape and a small pair of scissors. “I have the tape. Do you—oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

  “Hi, Natalie. Cole have another accident?” Booker pointed to the supplies.

  “Yes, but it wasn’t his fault,” she insisted, stepping over next to me and tugging my arm around. Heat flooded my ears. “He was trying to help a senior citizen.” She smiled up at me proudly before reposition the gauze I’d been holding on the scrape.

  “Ouch. How did our little hero get such a nasty boo-boo?” Booker grimaced.

  “I’m not a hero. It was no big deal.” I slid my chair out from under my desk and sat, wishing this would all just go away.

  “No big deal? Let me tell you what happened.” She rubbed on an
tibiotic cream as she spoke. “We were in the cafeteria getting some lunch and a little gray-haired senior in line lost her balance. Cole didn’t think twice. He raced over to try and catch her.” She beamed at me.

  I desperately wanted to change the subject. “How’s the new baby, Natalie? He has to be walking by now.”

  “Yes, Natalie, as soon as you’re done telling us about Cole, I’d love to hear about little Gabe,” Booker said. Should have known he wouldn’t let me redirect.

  “As I was saying, he raced over to catch her when his lunch slid off his tray and splattered across the floor. Cole stepped in the mess and slid a good ten feet before falling.” She wrapped the tape around my elbow a few times. Overkill, really.

  “So are you telling me our not-so-graceful ballerina here slid into the little old lady?” Booker looked hopefully at her.

  “No, but he did slosh some red Jell-O on her pants. She was none too happy about it, either.” Natalie tossed the leftover gauze into the garbage can.

  “Mad? He was trying to save her life.” Booker, being Booker, exaggerated now. “The ingrate!”

  “Well, turns out she wasn’t really falling. She was telling a story to her friend and Cole misinterpreted her actions,” Natalie said defensively.

  “She spoke very animatedly,” I added. The girl next to Booker dipped her head in laughter. Embarrassed, I still grinned. Hearing it retold did sound rather humorous.

  “That should do.” She patted the oversized bandage. “Got to get back to the desk.” Natalie left with a wave.

  “So, my klutzy friend, what do you say? Are you going to take my gift of Lilah, or are you going to send her on her way, penniless? I mean, seriously, look at this sweet, innocent face.” Book held his hand out to Lilah’s face. “Look sad, kid. You have to know how to work it.”

  Lilah pouted. “I am rather hungry. And a job like this would put a lot of food on my table, not to mention a roof over my head.” She added a sniffle to her words.

  “Oh, you’re good. You don’t need me.” Booker’s lips turned upward.

  “Gatto,” his talkie squawked.

  He pressed the black button on the side. “Sorry, Booker Gatto, Agent Extraordinaire, is off duty. Please check back tomorrow.”

  “Booker, you’re so adorable. This is Sandy at the switch desk. Your electrician’s on the line. He said he’s been trying to catch you all morning but you’ve not returned his calls. He claims it’s an emergency. Should I patch him through?”

  Booker dropped his head back and groaned. Last summer he purchased an old office building downtown, and he’d spent the year restoring it in preparation for renters. Everything had been running smoothly until the two months ago. Since then it had been one problem after another.

  “Thanks, Sandy. Patch him through.”

  “Hello, Booker. Sorry to bug you at work,” apologized a man’s voice over the talkie.

  “Not a big deal, Billy. I was on a stakeout last night and had to mute my phone.” Book shoved his hand through his hair. He looked tired. His emotions had taken a real beating over the past couple years. I felt for him. Booker pulled out his phone, rolling his eyes at the display. Twenty-seven missed calls, he mouthed to me.

  “The electrical system failed final inspection. We are going to have to tear half of it out and redo it. We’ll need to postpone the design team you hired for at least three weeks.”

  Booker stormed out into the hallway to talk, leaving me and Lilah alone. I leaned back nervously in my dilapidated chair, almost tipping it over. Quickly righting myself, I decided standing might be a safer option. Standing in one spot. Not moving. Because if I moved, I’d probably trip over something.

  “So, Lilah, is there hope for my office?” I stuffed my hands into the pockets of my scrub pants. I tried looking casual standing next to my desk. I probably just looked stupid.

  “Nothing is hopeless if you have an open mind, Cole.” She smiled. Wow. Great smile. “Is it all right if I call you Cole?”

  “Y-yes, of course.” I straightened as she stepped over next to me.

  “I take it you and Booker are good friends?” She smiled again. Why would God give someone so young such a knockout smile? I decided it’d be best if I looked into her eyes instead. Too young.

  “Booker and I’ve been friends for a number of years. He’s probably my best friend. He and Seth Prescott, actually.” I tugged on my scrub top nervously. “I moved to Port Fare to attend the U of R, and met Seth in a chemistry class. He introduced me to Booker, and we’ve been friends ever since. The Three Musketeers.”

  I can’t believe I just said that. Shut up, Cole! The young girl had me babbling like a nervous high school boy on his first date. Her eyes narrowed slightly at my lame musketeer comment. Humiliating.

  “I’d like to meet this Seth Prescott. If he’s half as good looking as you and Booker, ‘The Three Musketeers’ must have every single woman in town after you. Probably some married ones, too.”

  Her bluntness took me by surprise. “Well, ah, Seth is engaged actually. He and his fiancée are getting married in a couple weeks.” Needing to put some space between me and the flirtatious child, I risked moving across the room. Not that the room was big, but some space was better than no space.

  “I guess I’ll have to focus on you and Booker then.” And with that declaration, another killer smile. I tried not to look, really I did, but being a mere mortal, I failed.

  “So what are your thoughts on this room?” I learned against the filing cabinet, forgetting it was empty. It wobbled back and forth, but thankfully didn’t tip over. Lilah giggled into her hand.

  “I’m hoping you like color, because this drab little space could sure use it,” she said, glancing around.

  “Color? What kind of color?”

  She turned to the wall and waved her hand over the space. “I’d like to paint the far wall a dark burgundy, then use some black paint for a faux leather finish. It will give it a rich, sophisticated feel,” she explained.

  “Black and burgundy? Oh. I was thinking more along the lines of beige.” Now worried about the girl’s taste, I wondered what Booker had gotten me into.

  “You don’t trust me? Here, look over my portfolio.” She handed me a leather album.

  I avoided her smile this time and busied myself with the photos. The girl had talent, no doubt about it. Each photo was more impressive than the last. She’d worked on both offices and homes. “How long have you been designing?”

  “I started in high school. That one right there,” she pointed to a photo of a warm, inviting family room, “was my first project. And this,” she flipped over a couple pages, “was my senior project.” I studied the bright, colorful room filled with books. In the corner stood an impressive pink Cinderella castle surrounded with blue and pink bean bag chairs.

  “Senior project?”

  “My high school required all seniors to do twenty hours of community service. I worked with the local library, designing an enchanted reading land. It was a blast.” She beamed proudly, as she should.

  “Impressive work, Lilah.”

  Booker strolled back in, his face tight. “I’m beginning to think that building is cursed.”

  “That bad?” I asked, as Lilah took the portfolio from me.

  “I’m sick of all the ridiculous regulations in this state. I’m ready to move.” He rubbed his hand over his jaw. It was a vain threat. Booker would never leave Port Fare. Seth, Maggie and I were all the family he had. If Booker valued anything, it was family. No, he’d never leave.

  “I don’t want to deal with this now. I’m tired,” he said to me. “Lilah, I let Donna and Haley know that the project’s been pushed back at least three weeks. Donna said to apologize and she hopes you won’t abandon ship. She’ll call you on Monday.” Lilah nodded. “So now the pressure is on you, my clothing impaired friend.”

  “There is nothing wrong with the way . . . Never mind.” I sat carefully in my wreck-of-a-chair and signaled for
Booker to continue with a wave of my hand.

  “I really want to do this for you, Cole. Lilah’s very good, at least judging from the photos I’ve seen and from what Haley just told me on the phone. I think you should let her breathe a little life and some organization into this place. Come on. Do you want her begging for food on the streets of Port Fare?”

  “I hardly doubt she’ll be begging for food if. . . .” Lilah, with her soft brown eyes, gazed at me in the most heart-breaking, doe-eyed expression I’d ever seen, before dipping her head forlornly.

  Booker laughed. “Oh, yeah. You are good.”

  And pretty, and a flirt, and young, I thought.

  She popped her head up, all smiles again. “Thanks. I get it from my dad.”

  “Remind me to never try and broker a deal with him, unless he’s working for me, of course,” Booker said.

  “Will do,” Lilah answered brightly.

  “So what do you say? Are you going to graciously accept my gift?” Booker pressed me.

  I thought for a moment. If I said no, he’d just hound me until I changed my mind. He was right. The place needed help and I hadn’t a clue what to do.

  “Okay. Let’s do it.”

  Lilah glowed. “Great. I’ll spend the weekend coming up with a design and drop back by for you to look it over. Do you work on Monday?” she asked, wrapping her arms tightly around her portfolio.

  “Monday, Tuesday. Truthfully, Lilah, any day ending in ‘y’, you’ll find Cole here,” Booker said.

  “Great. Any requests? Modern, office chic, urban professional?”

  Yeah, like I knew what any of that meant. “I’ll need a desk, some bookshelves and a of couple filing cabinets. Other than that, it’s up to you,” I assured her.

  You’d think she just won the lottery, judging from the expression of pure joy on her pretty face. Then I remember what she’d said about color. “But no burgundy,” I added. Her expression dropped minutely, but she nodded.

  “Come on, Lilah. I’ll walk you to your car and we can discuss budget.” Lilah followed Booker out the door still hugging her portfolio.