The Hookup Plan, page 5
Still, this was Drew Sullivan. Nothing good could ever come from what she’d allowed to happen last night.
Well, other than the multiple orgasms. Those had been pretty damn good.
She reached for her coffee but then thought better of it. Signaling for the server, she called, “Can I have a new cup of coffee? I put too much sugar in this one.”
“Hmm,” Taylor hummed.
“Yeah, yeah. You told me so,” London said. She thought about the warning she’d received from her primary care doc a few weeks ago and suddenly regretted eating that second pancake. “I need to start paying better attention to what I put in my mouth.”
“I just want to clarify that you’re talking about food,” Taylor said. “Because there’s actually health benefits to giving a blow job.”
“Please, shut up,” London pleaded.
Needing to get her mind away from her own issues, she turned the conversation to her two friends. She’d been so busy with last-minute reunion preparations that they’d skipped their usual Friday girls’ night out. Samiah excitedly filled them both in on the tech conference where the phone app she’d created was featured in a spotlight for up-and-coming entrepreneurs.
Taylor, on the other hand, lamented about every one of the classes she was taking in her first semester of college. London knew she didn’t say it often enough, but she was proud as hell of her. Taylor had recently been diagnosed with a learning disorder, but she didn’t allow it to deter her from pursuing her degree to grow her fitness consulting business.
“Just hang in there,” London told her. “I can’t promise that it’ll get easier, but it’ll be more interesting once you get past these core requirements and start taking classes in your actual field of study.”
“Why can’t I just skip the core requirements?”
“Because they are requirements,” London said. “It’s right there in the name.”
Pushing her plate away, London leaned back against the booth’s soft vinyl and released a contented sigh. She really did feel better, as she knew she would after loading up on carbs and talking to these two. She probably should have skipped the salty, perfectly fried bacon, but how could a comfort meal not include bacon?
The server returned with the bill.
“This one is my treat,” London said as she reached for the check. “Thanks for coming to my rescue. I needed you both today.”
She got along well enough with her colleagues, but she hadn’t realized what she had been missing out on by not having close friends that she could call on whenever she needed them. That was just a small part of what Samiah and Taylor brought to her life.
London glanced on both sides of her seat, then looked around the table. “Wait,” she said. She must have left her purse in the car. “I’ll be right back.”
She slid out of the booth and rushed for the exit, jabbing her Mini’s key fob the moment she walked out the door.
“Please be there, please be there,” London prayed under her breath. She opened the door and did a quick search of the car, looking underneath both the driver’s and passenger’s side seats before checking the back. Her heart sank.
“Damn!” London said.
“What now?” Samiah asked as she and Taylor approached.
London closed the driver’s side door and slumped against it. “My purse,” she said. “It’s not here.” London closed her eyes tight. “I must have left my clutch in Drew’s room.”
“I covered breakfast, so don’t worry about it,” Samiah said.
Just then, London’s phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out. It was a text from a number she didn’t recognize.
How did you get this number?
The class directory.
London rolled her eyes.
You left something in my room.
“Fuck!” London shouted.
The woman who’d just walked past her car covered the ears of the kid walking alongside her.
“Sorry,” London called out to her.
But really. Fuck!
“Is that him?” Samiah asked.
“Yes.” She sighed. She answered his text.
Leave it at the front desk.
His response was almost instant.
That’s not safe. Just come up to my room and pick it up. I’ll be here until five.
“Ugh. Why is he so hardheaded?” she groused. She looked to Samiah and Taylor. “I have to go. I have a ton of charts to review, and now I have to drive back downtown to pick up my stupid purse.”
They all shared hugs and promised to meet up on Friday.
“There’s a restaurant on South Lamar I’ve been wanting to try,” Samiah called as they walked away. “They serve a spicy hibiscus margarita that’s supposed to be spectacular!”
“Sounds like a plan,” London said. “See you all Friday.”
She slipped behind the wheel and made her way back downtown. Once at the Hilton, she refused to acknowledge her quickening pulse as she stepped inside the lobby and boarded the elevator. She was here to retrieve her clutch. Nothing else.
“Knock on the door. Grab the purse. Leave,” she mumbled.
Simple and easy.
Drew must have been waiting for her at the door. The moment she knocked, it opened. He now wore a slate-gray T-shirt to match his lounging pants, but he was still barefoot and much too sexy for words.
London held out her hand. “Can I please have my clutch?”
“You can come in,” he said, turning from the door and walking back into the room.
“I don’t want to come in,” she said. She inwardly cringed at her churlish tone. She didn’t mean to sound so rude but couldn’t seem to help herself when it came to Drew.
His head fell forward. “Really, London? Don’t you think that’s a bit harsh, especially after last night?”
“I’m sorry,” she said. She was upset with herself. It wasn’t fair to take it out on him. After all, Drew had done exactly what she’d asked of him, ending her dry spell in spectacular fashion. “I just…Never mind.”
Against her better judgment, she entered the room and closed the door behind her.
Drew turned back around, and London was struck by how good the stubble she hadn’t taken the time to notice this morning looked on his strong, square jaw. His T-shirt wasn’t tight by any means, but it was just snug enough to highlight the detail of his chiseled chest.
He cleared his throat, and her eyes shot to his.
Shit. Had she really been staring at him? What was wrong with her?
She still wanted him. That’s what was wrong with her.
“My clutch,” London said again, her voice catching on the last word.
His eyes never leaving hers, Drew picked up the black clutch from the conference table and sauntered back toward her. London suppressed the urge to meet him halfway. She was not moving a single inch farther into this den of sinful pleasure.
Once he made it to her, he held out the clutch. But before she could retrieve it, he pulled back, holding it just out of her reach.
“As I said earlier, you don’t have to leave.”
Yes, I do.
But she wasn’t going to.
5
Drew stared out the window of the Uber he’d called not long after London fled his hotel room for the second time in less than twenty-four hours. He’d left soon after, moving into the furnished apartment his assistant had rented for the duration of his time in Austin. His clothes were already hanging neatly in the closet, and the fridge was fully stocked.
But he didn’t want any of the food Larissa had ordered. One whiff of spicy chipotle from a street vendor triggered a memory that his stomach refused to shake. He only hoped the hole-in-the-wall taco stand on the corner from their old place in Austin was still there.
The scenery transitioned from the skyscrapers of downtown to rows of apartment buildings that had seen better days on the city’s east side. He’d spent less than two years here, but the impact this place had on his life was unlike any other. He hated being back here, but it made him appreciate how far he’d come.
“Is this it?” the Uber driver asked.
Drew peered out at the galvanized steel roof and the paint peeling off the dingy wood siding. “Yes, it is.”
“You said you wanted me to wait for you, right?” the man asked.
“Yeah, I should only be a few minutes,” he said, getting out of the car. As he closed the door, he caught sight of the basketball court across the street. Drew rapped on the driver’s window. “You can take off,” he said. “I’m going to stick around for a bit.”
Drew went into the taco shack and ordered three chorizo and steak street tacos with extra cilantro. These tacos had been his dinner countless nights after practice, when his mom was pulling a second shift and his uncle, Elias, was either out looking for work or hooking up with some girl.
Drew brought his tacos over to the basketball court and took a seat on a bench that probably hadn’t been painted since he’d played here fifteen years ago. He mindlessly ate as he watched some teen boys battle in a three-on-three pickup game. How many afternoons had he spent doing the same?
And why did the memories leave such an uneasy feeling in his gut?
It wasn’t as if anything traumatic had happened during his time here. He’d excelled in Austin, accomplishing more than any of the teachers or counselors at his previous schools had ever encouraged him to achieve. But there was something about being back here that made his hands clammy and his chest tight.
His attitude toward Texas had undergone several metamorphoses over the years. When his mom had first moved them here during his junior year of high school, he’d been as indifferent to Austin as he’d been to any of the other places where he’d lived. He began warming up to it when he started to make a name for himself at Barbara Jordan High, but Drew had learned from an early age to never let himself to get too attached to any one place. They’d averaged fourteen months tops in all the other cities they’d lived.
There was something about Austin that was different. Something about Texas that changed the game.
His mom had fallen in love with its wide-open spaces. After he left for college, she’d moved to a small town about an hour west of here, in the foothills of the Texas Hill Country. She’d remained in that tranquil little town, with the flower baskets that hung from the streetlights on Main Street and shop owners who knew every customer by name. She told him the only way she would leave would be by hearse.
And that’s exactly the way it had happened.
Drew winced.
He wasn’t in the right mood to think about his mom right now, not when he had all these other emotions about being back in Austin to contend with.
But thinking about his mom reminded him that he owed his uncle, Elias, a call. His mother’s much younger brother had stood in as his pseudo-dad for much of Drew’s life, even though only eight years separated them. His uncle had settled in Fort Worth. Like his sister, he had developed an unexplainable love for Texas.
Drew pulled out his phone and clicked into his favorites. His uncle’s number was one of only a few saved there.
Elias picked up on the third ring.
“What’s up, old man?” Drew said in his usual greeting.
“Hey, nephew! You in Austin yet?” Elias asked.
“Yeah. Believe or not, I’m at the playground near our old place. I would shoot a few hoops if I wasn’t wearing my good shoes.”
Elias laughed. “What are you doing all the way out there? You feeling nostalgic?”
“For tacos,” Drew said. “But I’m about to head back downtown. The apartment I rented became available earlier than expected, and I need to get settled in before meeting up with the team from Trident later. Say, if you’re in the mood for an impromptu vacation, there’s a nice suite at the downtown Austin Hilton that’s fully paid for until Wednesday.”
“I would if I could,” Elias said. “Can’t afford the days away from the job.”
Drew rolled his eyes.
He’d waited until after he’d earned his first ten million before offering to buy a house and provide a stipend to both his mom and uncle so they wouldn’t have to work anymore. He’d known they would both turn him down if his net worth were less than eight figures, but had hoped they would take him up on it if they figured he was financially secure.
His net worth was nearing the nine-figure mark, yet Elias still insisted on keeping his job as a mail carrier, claiming that he’d worked too hard to earn his pension and he wasn’t letting it go.
“I may drop in on you in a few weeks, though,” E said. “Me and a few buddies are driving out to Big Bend later this month for a long-overdue fishing trip. I figured I’d leave a day early and hang out with you in Austin. That is, if you’re still here.”
“I’ll still be here,” Drew said.
“I’ll believe it when I see it,” his uncle said. “But, while you are here, I think you need to take a drive out to Hye and go through Doreen’s things. You can’t leave her house sitting like that forever.”
That’s exactly what Drew had planned on doing. His mother’s home had stood untouched since she passed away last year. He wasn’t ready to face it. He wasn’t sure if he ever would be.
“I’m going to be pretty busy with the project I’m working on, but I’ll try to get out there,” Drew said noncommittally.
“Do more than try,” his uncle said. “You know Doreen would never want her house to just sit there like some kind of museum. Stop avoiding this.”
Drew’s phone dinged with a calendar reminder. Saved by the fucking bell.
“E, I need to get going.”
“Working on a Sunday?”
“It’s just a short meeting,” he said. Drew wasn’t in the mood for his uncle’s harassment over his work schedule. “Give me a couple of days’ notice before your fishing trip so that I can schedule the time off. Maybe we can hang out for a bit. Come back to this playground and shoot some hoops.”
“Oh yeah, your ass is feeling nostalgic. I wouldn’t be surprised if you ended up back in Austin permanently,” Elias said.
Not a chance in hell.
“I don’t know about that,” Drew said.
“You should consider it. You told me yourself that New York has never felt like home. You need to plant some roots, Drew.”
He was not having this conversation right now.
“I have to go. I’ll catch up with you later, E.”
He ended the call and clicked into his text messages to share the address of the building where he would be staying with Elias. After sending the text, he spotted the one he’d sent to London earlier today, letting her know that she’d left her purse in his hotel room.
Drew closed his eyes and forced himself to take a cleansing breath.
He should give her a heads-up about tomorrow. He was only making it worse by not telling her that he was the one who would assist County’s governing board in deciding whether to sell the hospital to a private company.
But instead of writing the text message he knew he damn well should write, Drew switched to the Uber app and ordered a car to come pick him up.
He would deal with London tomorrow.
6
London marched at a brisk clip up the hospital’s bright corridor. She dodged a phlebotomist wheeling a cart into a patient’s room and made her way to the nurses’ station. The square-shaped area—dubbed “The Hub”—sat in the center of the four arms of the pediatric care ward at Travis County Hospital. It was empty, save for this shift’s board nurse, Kia Jackson.
“Have you seen my SpongeBob SquarePants stethoscope sleeve?” London asked as she approached the chest-high counter. “I can’t find it anywhere.”
“Have you checked in a pineapple under the sea?” Kia asked.
“You’re a better nurse than comedian,” London said to the twentysomething who’d started at County around the same time she had. She gestured at the tray of cookies to Kia’s right. “How much for a white chocolate macadamia?”
“Sorry, but those are Carmen’s favorites. I love you, Doc, but no one messes with the charge nurse’s cookies unless they want to get got.”
London looked over both shoulders. “Yeah, well, I’m not afraid of Carmen,” she lied, reaching over the counter and snagging a cookie. “If you see my stethoscope sleeve hanging around anywhere, please let me know. It’s Jason Milner’s favorite. I want to make sure I’m wearing it when he wakes up from his surgery.”
The earliest lesson she’d learned about working in the pediatric ward: Do whatever you can to disguise medical equipment and help kids forget they’re in a hospital.
“Will do,” Kia said. She arched a brow as she looked past London. “You’d better finish that cookie.”
A gruff voice called out, “I’m short two CNAs and someone needs to answer for it.”
London stuffed the entire half of the cookie in her mouth just as Carmen Francis, the charge nurse who had been at this hospital since Moses was a toddler, came stomping up to the nurses’ station.
“It’s a good thing I work in a hospital, because I swear these people are trying to give me a heart attack,” Carmen said. She wore a barrette with tiny gardenias at the part in her salt-and-pepper ’fro today. London speculated that her various hair ornaments were an attempt to soften her brusqueness, but it didn’t work. The woman was terrifying.
London gave both nurses a wave, intending to haul ass before Carmen took an account of the white chocolate macadamia cookies, but the charge nurse stopped her with a terse “Dr. Kelley, one minute.”
London prayed she didn’t choke on the cookie as she swallowed. She cleared her throat.
“Yes, Carmen?”
Unlike the other doctors on the floor, London had been given permission to call Carmen by her first name. A right earned after London approached the hospital administration on the nurses’ behalf regarding understaffing and mandatory overtime. Even the attending physicians addressed her as Nurse Francis or Miss Francis.
