“It’s a part of the process—so, yes.”
“It requires you to work with the nurses and other staff. How do you feel about that?”
He shrugged. “I just keep to myself. I put my orders in the computer, and the nurses take care of it. I don’t have to deal with them much.”
“That’s nice.” I knew he didn’t like verbalizing with anyone. Patient care was a social job. I imagined it was the most difficult part of his work—for him.
When he finished his food, he waited for me to finish, didn’t pull out his laptop or stare at my face. Sometimes his gaze moved to the window, looking at the city lights illuminating the sky.
I wished I were rich just so I could eat like this every night, come home to a chef-prepared meal. I didn’t care about the other things billionaires had, like second homes, yachts, fancy cars, someone to pick up the dry cleaning. I’d just like to have someone cook for me and do the dishes. That was a luxury I would probably never have.
Once I was finished, I just sat there, tired now that my belly was full. I still had to take the long walk to my apartment, and I was dreading that. Maybe one day I could live in a building closer, although I shouldn’t complain that I could afford to live so close in the first place. Most people couldn’t.
When I stopped looking out the window, I realized he was staring at me. I turned to him, seeing his chocolate eyes examine my features like he’d been looking for a while. When I met his eyes, I couldn’t ignore how handsome he was, how perfect his features were. I’d never had a type of man I gravitated toward, but I realized he was my ultimate type, with dark hair, dark eyes, and beautiful tanned skin. Ripped, strong, and quiet, he was a man who didn’t need to talk a lot. And his heart…he had such a big one.
I turned away, knowing I was just tired and vulnerable right now. “Thank you for dinner.”
“You’re welcome anytime.”
I turned back to him, surprised at the offer.
“I understand you work for me and there are boundaries, but we’re friends. If you ever have a bad day or just need someone to talk to…I’m always here.” His elbows rested on the table, and he stared at me with the same expression, hardly taking the time to blink, like his eyes didn’t need the break.
I could stare at him forever, live in this simple bubble he built for himself. While others thought he was odd and difficult, I found his way of life refreshing. He said what he meant, didn’t muddle conversation with meaningless words, and only did what he really wanted to do. Now I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to stay—and forget everything else.
Valerie had obviously saved my number because she knew exactly who I was when I called. “Hello, Cleo.” Her voice was feminine but slightly pretentious. Tucker had described her as a bombshell, but her looks obviously weren’t enough for Deacon to look past all her other flaws.
But I pretended not to hate her. “Hey, Valerie. How are you?” I sat on my couch, calling her after a long day at the office.
“I’m alright. How’s Deacon?”
I assumed they hadn’t spoken. Every time I asked him, he either shook his head or didn’t say anything at all. “He’s alright. He’s been working at the hospital for the past week, doing patient care. He spends all his time working.” I didn’t tell her about the hookups, didn’t mention anything that would make her angry.
“Sounds about right. That was all he ever did when we were married.”
Because his job saved lives, it was important, it mattered…but she obviously didn’t care. And I didn’t believe what she said, because I knew Deacon always made time for his son. He probably just didn’t make time for her. “Yes, he’s very committed.”
“So, what can I do for you?”
I was hoping the reason behind my call was obvious. Guess not. “I was wondering if you’d given my request any thought.” It’d been a month since we last spoke, so I didn’t overwhelm her by constantly pestering her.
“I’m surprised Deacon didn’t ask himself.”
“He understands you’re upset with him and don’t want to talk to him.” That was the truth. Every time he called, it never went anywhere. “His birthday is in a few weeks, and I know he would love the opportunity to spend that weekend with Derek. Could we work something out?” I had to get Derek out here. I wanted to make Deacon the happiest he’d even been, to hold his son again and make his birthday a special one.
“I looked you up. You sound like the real deal.”
“I am the real deal.”