Breaking the Doctor, page 10
How long would she let her tea get cold? He didn’t understand. He scooted closer to see if her tea still steamed. “Persian food isn’t spicy hot but it’s not bland. I hope you enjoy all the meals I introduce you to.”
She tested her drink again but put it down. He glanced at the beverage, knowing the tea was probably too cold for him now as she said, “The same, though I bet the food is even better in your country.”
Patti commented on the obvious, but it was a reminder that they were extremely different. It shouldn’t matter that she liked colder tea than him. Food in Iran was fresher and not processed with chemicals that changed the flavors. He nodded his agreement. “I would say so.”
She sipped her tea finally and sounded like she enjoyed it. He watched how the brew touched her pink lips and wished they were home so he could kiss her and bring her right into his bedroom. He’d wait until she was ready to go.
Once she put the empty glass down, she said, “Delicious.”
He stood and offered his hand for her to join him. She rose as well. “One day I’ll ensure you get a traditional Persian dish made perfectly, without substitutions.”
“Speaking of your country,” he quickly paid the bill with a tip and held the door for her as she asked, “Is it a scary place, the desert?”
He tightened his grip on the take-out bags and clicked the car door unlocked. Typical American only to think of Saudi Arabia’s environment. Miami was just as hot though thankfully they wouldn’t have to go out again anytime soon. He opened her door for her as he said, “I grew up in a city. Tehran is full of gardens, and mountains around it.”
He joined her and put the food in the back seat. She said, “That’s not what it looks like on TV.”
Fair. He nodded at her and started the car glad they were close to home. “TV will let you think we’re all religious, crazy, and no one laughs.”
She laughed and stared at him like she had hunger in her eyes though he’d just bought her lunch. All she said was, “True.”
He smiled at her and drove. “We’re almost home.”
Her hand traced her chest and neck. “Do we still have time for that one-on-one you promised in the bedroom?”
Warmth rushed through him—so they were on the same page. Good. He turned toward their home. “I said bedroom?”
“It was implied.” She reached for his hand.
He stepped on the gas a little more, but stayed within the speed limit. “I see. We should have time for that too.”
She let his hand go and pulled back. “Never mind, maybe you’re distracted.”
He saw their home up ahead. They’d make it fast and he’d have the ability to hold her again. He licked his lips. “Distracted is what you do to me, Patti, but I like being distracted.”
He parked the car and she hopped out on her own. “See, I like being with you too, and being alone… without talking.”
Luckily they had time still. He grabbed the food from the back seat, directed her toward the house and massaged her backside as he kept his voice low and said, “Or less talk, more action?”
“That works too.” She laughed and walked into the house with him. He’d get the clothes later.
He held up the food and waved it in the air. She understood and said, “Let me check on the girls with the nanny.”
Holding Patti and exploring her curves was all that he could think about. He put the food away and wanted no other distractions besides her. He quickly washed in the kitchen and headed into his small prayer room.
He knelt and prayed, thanking his lucky stars he’d found Patti.
A few minutes later she knocked on the door of the prayer room and looked down at him without interrupting while he finished his prayers. He glanced up and her lips were thin, but then she said, “Everyone’s good. What are you doing?”
He wrapped his arms around her waist. “I was praying.”
“Now?” She let her hands fall to his hips.
His lips lowered to hers and all he wanted to do was taste her. He sighed and was a fraction away from her mouth when he said, “I don’t want to forget. Now, where were we?”
Her eyes were half-closed. “I was just hoping you’d kiss me.”
Finally he had what he wanted. Her lips were better than ice cream or dessert. She tasted fresh, and sweet, and somehow she was his. As the kiss ended, he backed her out of the room, intending to bring her to the bedroom. “I’m going to do much more than that to you.”
She laughed but kissed his cheek while they headed across the house to his private room, to not disturb the children.
Once he closed the door to his bedroom, and she kissed him again, he knew he was in heaven itself. Patti was the perfect woman for him.
Chapter 12
Patti buckled the belt on her black dress, twirling in the mirror of the adjoining bathroom door in the bedroom.
Reza came out of the shower, toweling off his hair before wrapping the towel around his waist. He tossed a white shirt on the bed.
His hard muscles under that white towel made her weak.
No ex-boyfriend had ever made her feel such heights of pleasure. The last boyfriend didn’t put in half the effort Reza had to ensure she was satisfied.
Everything was perfect. Except that people had the power of opinions, and that mattered in his culture.
She’d given up music because she’d failed.
Maybe not trying again was horrible for an impression that lasted. No one was more disappointed in her broken dreams than she was. The last thing she wanted to lose out on now was whatever was happening between them. She turned from the mirror and watched him step into a pair of white briefs. She twirled her wedding ring. “Reza, are you sure you can’t cancel now?”
He kissed her forehead and smiled at her. “Everything is set. Don’t be nervous. You’re lovely.”
Lovely was someone else. She wasn’t, but she was stylish tonight. It helped.
She held her breath for a moment and said, “Tell me about Leila.”
He put on his pants. “She’s no one important.”
She scooted closer to him but sat on the bed, next to his shirt that she folded on her lap. “That’s not an answer.”
Reza walked to his dresser and the distance widened between them. Her arms shivered as the room became colder, but she saw him pull from the drawer a rather large felt jewelry box that he returned to her side with. “My mother knows her mother back in our old country.” He opened the box and she saw a shiny gold necklace with diamonds encrusted into a rose pattern, with matching earrings and a bracelet. He wrapped the bracelet around her wrist. “She’s not married; she’s pretty but she has no right to make you this nervous. I told you already how I felt.”
Her heart raced as he fixed the clasp and handed her the box. “You did. I believe you. What’s this?”
He picked up the necklace and sat on the bed behind her, wrapping the gold around her neck. “My mother sent it as a wedding gift to whoever I married. Tonight, we’ll have people around so it’s best for you to wear these.”
The truth was she hadn’t owned jewelry, and the last really pretty set she’d worn had been fake, to her high school prom. He handed her the stud earrings. “Gift? For me?”
“Yes.” He motioned for her to put the diamond earrings in her ears.
She followed his instructions but couldn’t get up to look at herself. She wasn’t this fancy of a woman. Once the task was completed, she squeezed his hand. “It’s too much.”
He took his shirt from her lap. “Why?”
He buttoned his clothes with elegant movements and looked very well put together. She shook her head, sad she’d lost sight of his washboard abs. “Because…”
He finished with the buttons. “Yeah?”
He rose and tucked his shirt inside his pants. Movie stars of old had nothing on him. Reza was the perfect catch. She swallowed. “Because you’re a great guy, sought after, and honestly you can have whoever you want.”
He finished with his shirt and offered his hands for her to stand. “But I want you.”
She stood, taking his hands only to touch him again, not because she needed his help. She shook her head. “I don’t get it. Why would you want just me?”
He reached into his bureau and took out a black belt. He wrapped it around himself, finishing his transition to perfect dinner host and elegant gentleman. “Because you being near doesn’t grate against my nerves. I just wish you had more confidence in yourself. Being a musician is interesting, people will want to hear about that.”
She glanced in the corner of the bedroom and saw her old guitar. She hadn’t played it in a year now. She turned back and said, “But I failed at that.”
He squeezed her hand and smiled at her. “Then try again.”
No one had believed in her like this. Even her parents had meant well but didn’t push her to follow her music, not after she’d tried and had that awful public rejection years ago. They saw it as a hobby—she wasn’t good enough. Reza didn’t know how bad she’d failed. Maybe it was better he didn’t, and she wouldn’t show him the clips that must exist online still. She checked the jewelry in the mirror and now saw that she too was dressed elegantly and seemed like someone else, someone beautiful. “I still don’t want to meet these women. I’m nervous because I don’t know about your culture.”
He held her hands between them. “Are you scared of me?”
His nearness made goosebumps grow on her body and she lowered her face again. “No, but the news makes Iranian praying like you do somehow threatening though when I see you, it’s not a big deal. And you aren’t expecting me to cover up or anything like that, but nothing I see is good.”
He led her out the bedroom door, and they could hear from the hall the girls laughing outside in the backyard. The new antibiotic must have made her sister feel better.
Rose hadn’t had a yard to run in since she’d had to sell her parents’ house.
Reza said, “I’ve never known anyone on their knees to be threatening.”
Slight tears formed in her eyes and she wasn’t sure if it was because she had a chance to be happy now and yet she was pushing it away. “But terrorists-”
“Are bad people,” he finished her sentence, adding, “Murderers are murderers, no matter the creed.”
Fair and they’d discussed this already. She shouldn’t let her jitters make him repeat things she agreed with. She let out a breath. “And you save people. I get you’re a great guy and I agree with you on this. I’m just scared and looking for excuses.”
He gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “So trust me.”
She pressed her forehead to his and just breathed. She needed to do exactly that—trust Reza. Patti closed her eyes and absorbed his being so near.
However someone rang his doorbell and broke the moment. Reza pulled back as she nodded at him and said, “Okay, I’ll try.”
“Let’s go.” He kissed her cheek.
No. She stopped him and kissed him hard, on his lips, fast. She needed him close.
His touch gave her enough strength that she could handle anything and she didn’t need to protect herself from fear of failing.
He led her toward the door and opened it. A couple with a fruit basket held it up and he leaned forward and squeezed the guy’s hand like they were friends as he said, “Welcome. Hamid. Tina. This is my wife, Patti.”
The Star of David around Tina’s neck surprised her. She hadn’t expected such a wide range of faiths in a night. Patti shook everyone’s hand after they left their shoes at the door. “Tina. Hamid. Nice to meet you.”
Before they could close the door another couple came forward with a box of chocolates in tow. This couple also had Reza’s olive skin, which made them seem Italian or Greek, but now she knew they were Iranian. Reza said, “This is Zahra, and her husband, Mohammed.”
She shook their hands and returned smiles to every smiling face as they slipped off their shoes near the door and said again, “Hello.”
Reza waved down his driveway and Patti scooted closer, linking their arms for a moment. The next couple brought a bottle of wine. They also took off their shoes at the door while he said, “And this is Freydoun, and April.”
The man held out his hand to shake and said, “Fred, please.”
Clearly this group had all been Americanized if they drank wine, including her husband. She kept that to herself and glanced at the rows of shoes near the door, as that was a new custom to remember as she smiled and shook their hands. “Nice to meet you, Fred.”
She’d thought the get-together would be a few people, but Reza waved at another group. This time it was two women, one older, the other their age and quite beautiful. They slipped off their elegant heels at the door while Reza said, “And this is Leila, and Mariam.”
This was the woman who’d wanted to marry Reza? Her skin was flawless and glowing. Her hair was shiny and dark. And she dressed beautifully.
Leila was sophisticated and the opposite of Patti in many ways, but Patti held her hand out to shake and said, “Nice to meet you both.”
The women leaned in and kissed both sides of her cheeks. She froze, unsure what to do, but then Leila said, “We wanted to meet the woman that stole Reza’s heart.”
Heart? She hadn’t. Though they definitely had chemistry. “Reza and I are…”
She stopped and glanced at his strong jaw—what should she say? They weren’t in love and there was no heart-stealing involved.
Leila blinked long, dark eyelashes and asked, “Are what?”
Patti needed to regroup. She patted Leila’s arm and said, “Happy to meet you. Please come in.”
Reza held Patti’s waist and when she turned toward the door, he said, “And you remember Zahra, from the hospital.”
Zahra! She remembered her, and Zahra carried a huge cake box. Patti didn’t ask, but this time when she reached in and kissed her cheeks, Patti did the same greeting as she said, “Of course, it’s a pleasure seeing you again.”
The cheek kiss was very friendly.
The girls showed up dressed in yellow and green sundresses that matched like they were siblings already, but Sara guided Rose to seats like she needed no introduction. Reza had mentioned the nanny was available via a text whenever she was summoned.
Reza closed the door and they walked to the living room where people had gathered. Reza then told his guests, “Please join us in the back.”
His backyard was more like an outside living area and the screened lanai had a buffet table near the house wall. All of them streamed from the room and most of the guests hit the bar table to serve themselves, or checked out the buffet of food.
Patti stopped as Sara ran toward her and tugged her hand. Rose followed but she coughed, heavily. Leila came over to join her, but Patti picked up Sara and said, “You know Sara, and this is Rose.” She closed her other arm around her sister who continued to cough. “Excuse me for a moment, Leila. I want to check on the girls.”
Without one glance at Reza, she walked the two girls inside the house and felt her sister’s head. She seemed hot.
She helped Rose out of her yellow dress she’d worn for the party, insisting that she rest in bed and read a book.
The nanny came as soon as she was called and settled Sara, who stared at them with those big brown eyes of hers that seemed to take everything personally.
As Patti put Rose in her pajamas, Reza knocked on the door and came inside. “Patti?” He saw Rose’s flushed cheeks and knelt down in front of her sister. “Are you okay, Rose?”
Rose swayed a little and said, “I think I need to go back to bed.”
He picked her up and laid her on the mattress. “I’ll be right back.”
Patti sat on her sister’s bed, concerned that the pneumonia was getting worse. He returned with a black medical bag and she asked, “Reza?”
He opened the bag, and took out a thermometer and his stethoscope. “I’m checking her temperature now.”
“Thank you.” He waved the wand over her head and the thermometer showed a fever of over a hundred.
Patti’s smoothed her sister’s thin sheet as he listened to Rose’s lungs.
She wrung her hands together, wanting to help somehow, and Sara reached out to hold her. If anything happened to Rose, it was because she hadn’t been fast enough. Her continual ineptitude was like a knife to the heart.
As Reza finished listening, he nodded at Patti and said, “Get the humidifier.”
Right. Good. Action. She squeezed Sara’s hand, let her go and asked, “Where is it?”
He pointed to a closed door painted pale yellow. “In the closet. The nanny will stay with her, but I want her breathing to be easier.”
If anyone knew what to do, it was Reza. She flung open the door on a mission and read the labels on boxes of unopened toys. Then she found the humidifier and brought it out. As she unpacked it on the dresser, she asked, “The pneumonia?” Should they go back to the hospital?
She swallowed and read the directions. She’d need water for the machine. She headed into the en suite bathroom with the container to fill. Reza said, “Once the congestion breaks up, she’ll be completely fine. The medicine is working, but she’s had too much activity today, that’s all.”
Her heart stopped racing. Her sister would be fine. That was all that mattered. She called out, “Adding water now.”
Patti returned and Reza plugged the machine in, took the water container, and put the humidifier together.
She ran her hand up and down his spine as Sara asked, “Rose?”
Reza seemed startled that his niece spoke, but he smiled at her and said, “She’ll be fine Sara. I promise.” He turned the machine on.
Patti nodded at him like she believed him.
A hum filled the air from the machine. She stared at Sara, who had climbed into bed with Rose. Patti took a deep breath and said, “That’s good to hear.”
Reza didn’t seem concerned about his niece catching any illness from Rose. He said, “Rose needs to be off her feet and rest. Sleep helps her heal faster.”
“What about Sara?”
She tested her drink again but put it down. He glanced at the beverage, knowing the tea was probably too cold for him now as she said, “The same, though I bet the food is even better in your country.”
Patti commented on the obvious, but it was a reminder that they were extremely different. It shouldn’t matter that she liked colder tea than him. Food in Iran was fresher and not processed with chemicals that changed the flavors. He nodded his agreement. “I would say so.”
She sipped her tea finally and sounded like she enjoyed it. He watched how the brew touched her pink lips and wished they were home so he could kiss her and bring her right into his bedroom. He’d wait until she was ready to go.
Once she put the empty glass down, she said, “Delicious.”
He stood and offered his hand for her to join him. She rose as well. “One day I’ll ensure you get a traditional Persian dish made perfectly, without substitutions.”
“Speaking of your country,” he quickly paid the bill with a tip and held the door for her as she asked, “Is it a scary place, the desert?”
He tightened his grip on the take-out bags and clicked the car door unlocked. Typical American only to think of Saudi Arabia’s environment. Miami was just as hot though thankfully they wouldn’t have to go out again anytime soon. He opened her door for her as he said, “I grew up in a city. Tehran is full of gardens, and mountains around it.”
He joined her and put the food in the back seat. She said, “That’s not what it looks like on TV.”
Fair. He nodded at her and started the car glad they were close to home. “TV will let you think we’re all religious, crazy, and no one laughs.”
She laughed and stared at him like she had hunger in her eyes though he’d just bought her lunch. All she said was, “True.”
He smiled at her and drove. “We’re almost home.”
Her hand traced her chest and neck. “Do we still have time for that one-on-one you promised in the bedroom?”
Warmth rushed through him—so they were on the same page. Good. He turned toward their home. “I said bedroom?”
“It was implied.” She reached for his hand.
He stepped on the gas a little more, but stayed within the speed limit. “I see. We should have time for that too.”
She let his hand go and pulled back. “Never mind, maybe you’re distracted.”
He saw their home up ahead. They’d make it fast and he’d have the ability to hold her again. He licked his lips. “Distracted is what you do to me, Patti, but I like being distracted.”
He parked the car and she hopped out on her own. “See, I like being with you too, and being alone… without talking.”
Luckily they had time still. He grabbed the food from the back seat, directed her toward the house and massaged her backside as he kept his voice low and said, “Or less talk, more action?”
“That works too.” She laughed and walked into the house with him. He’d get the clothes later.
He held up the food and waved it in the air. She understood and said, “Let me check on the girls with the nanny.”
Holding Patti and exploring her curves was all that he could think about. He put the food away and wanted no other distractions besides her. He quickly washed in the kitchen and headed into his small prayer room.
He knelt and prayed, thanking his lucky stars he’d found Patti.
A few minutes later she knocked on the door of the prayer room and looked down at him without interrupting while he finished his prayers. He glanced up and her lips were thin, but then she said, “Everyone’s good. What are you doing?”
He wrapped his arms around her waist. “I was praying.”
“Now?” She let her hands fall to his hips.
His lips lowered to hers and all he wanted to do was taste her. He sighed and was a fraction away from her mouth when he said, “I don’t want to forget. Now, where were we?”
Her eyes were half-closed. “I was just hoping you’d kiss me.”
Finally he had what he wanted. Her lips were better than ice cream or dessert. She tasted fresh, and sweet, and somehow she was his. As the kiss ended, he backed her out of the room, intending to bring her to the bedroom. “I’m going to do much more than that to you.”
She laughed but kissed his cheek while they headed across the house to his private room, to not disturb the children.
Once he closed the door to his bedroom, and she kissed him again, he knew he was in heaven itself. Patti was the perfect woman for him.
Chapter 12
Patti buckled the belt on her black dress, twirling in the mirror of the adjoining bathroom door in the bedroom.
Reza came out of the shower, toweling off his hair before wrapping the towel around his waist. He tossed a white shirt on the bed.
His hard muscles under that white towel made her weak.
No ex-boyfriend had ever made her feel such heights of pleasure. The last boyfriend didn’t put in half the effort Reza had to ensure she was satisfied.
Everything was perfect. Except that people had the power of opinions, and that mattered in his culture.
She’d given up music because she’d failed.
Maybe not trying again was horrible for an impression that lasted. No one was more disappointed in her broken dreams than she was. The last thing she wanted to lose out on now was whatever was happening between them. She turned from the mirror and watched him step into a pair of white briefs. She twirled her wedding ring. “Reza, are you sure you can’t cancel now?”
He kissed her forehead and smiled at her. “Everything is set. Don’t be nervous. You’re lovely.”
Lovely was someone else. She wasn’t, but she was stylish tonight. It helped.
She held her breath for a moment and said, “Tell me about Leila.”
He put on his pants. “She’s no one important.”
She scooted closer to him but sat on the bed, next to his shirt that she folded on her lap. “That’s not an answer.”
Reza walked to his dresser and the distance widened between them. Her arms shivered as the room became colder, but she saw him pull from the drawer a rather large felt jewelry box that he returned to her side with. “My mother knows her mother back in our old country.” He opened the box and she saw a shiny gold necklace with diamonds encrusted into a rose pattern, with matching earrings and a bracelet. He wrapped the bracelet around her wrist. “She’s not married; she’s pretty but she has no right to make you this nervous. I told you already how I felt.”
Her heart raced as he fixed the clasp and handed her the box. “You did. I believe you. What’s this?”
He picked up the necklace and sat on the bed behind her, wrapping the gold around her neck. “My mother sent it as a wedding gift to whoever I married. Tonight, we’ll have people around so it’s best for you to wear these.”
The truth was she hadn’t owned jewelry, and the last really pretty set she’d worn had been fake, to her high school prom. He handed her the stud earrings. “Gift? For me?”
“Yes.” He motioned for her to put the diamond earrings in her ears.
She followed his instructions but couldn’t get up to look at herself. She wasn’t this fancy of a woman. Once the task was completed, she squeezed his hand. “It’s too much.”
He took his shirt from her lap. “Why?”
He buttoned his clothes with elegant movements and looked very well put together. She shook her head, sad she’d lost sight of his washboard abs. “Because…”
He finished with the buttons. “Yeah?”
He rose and tucked his shirt inside his pants. Movie stars of old had nothing on him. Reza was the perfect catch. She swallowed. “Because you’re a great guy, sought after, and honestly you can have whoever you want.”
He finished with his shirt and offered his hands for her to stand. “But I want you.”
She stood, taking his hands only to touch him again, not because she needed his help. She shook her head. “I don’t get it. Why would you want just me?”
He reached into his bureau and took out a black belt. He wrapped it around himself, finishing his transition to perfect dinner host and elegant gentleman. “Because you being near doesn’t grate against my nerves. I just wish you had more confidence in yourself. Being a musician is interesting, people will want to hear about that.”
She glanced in the corner of the bedroom and saw her old guitar. She hadn’t played it in a year now. She turned back and said, “But I failed at that.”
He squeezed her hand and smiled at her. “Then try again.”
No one had believed in her like this. Even her parents had meant well but didn’t push her to follow her music, not after she’d tried and had that awful public rejection years ago. They saw it as a hobby—she wasn’t good enough. Reza didn’t know how bad she’d failed. Maybe it was better he didn’t, and she wouldn’t show him the clips that must exist online still. She checked the jewelry in the mirror and now saw that she too was dressed elegantly and seemed like someone else, someone beautiful. “I still don’t want to meet these women. I’m nervous because I don’t know about your culture.”
He held her hands between them. “Are you scared of me?”
His nearness made goosebumps grow on her body and she lowered her face again. “No, but the news makes Iranian praying like you do somehow threatening though when I see you, it’s not a big deal. And you aren’t expecting me to cover up or anything like that, but nothing I see is good.”
He led her out the bedroom door, and they could hear from the hall the girls laughing outside in the backyard. The new antibiotic must have made her sister feel better.
Rose hadn’t had a yard to run in since she’d had to sell her parents’ house.
Reza said, “I’ve never known anyone on their knees to be threatening.”
Slight tears formed in her eyes and she wasn’t sure if it was because she had a chance to be happy now and yet she was pushing it away. “But terrorists-”
“Are bad people,” he finished her sentence, adding, “Murderers are murderers, no matter the creed.”
Fair and they’d discussed this already. She shouldn’t let her jitters make him repeat things she agreed with. She let out a breath. “And you save people. I get you’re a great guy and I agree with you on this. I’m just scared and looking for excuses.”
He gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “So trust me.”
She pressed her forehead to his and just breathed. She needed to do exactly that—trust Reza. Patti closed her eyes and absorbed his being so near.
However someone rang his doorbell and broke the moment. Reza pulled back as she nodded at him and said, “Okay, I’ll try.”
“Let’s go.” He kissed her cheek.
No. She stopped him and kissed him hard, on his lips, fast. She needed him close.
His touch gave her enough strength that she could handle anything and she didn’t need to protect herself from fear of failing.
He led her toward the door and opened it. A couple with a fruit basket held it up and he leaned forward and squeezed the guy’s hand like they were friends as he said, “Welcome. Hamid. Tina. This is my wife, Patti.”
The Star of David around Tina’s neck surprised her. She hadn’t expected such a wide range of faiths in a night. Patti shook everyone’s hand after they left their shoes at the door. “Tina. Hamid. Nice to meet you.”
Before they could close the door another couple came forward with a box of chocolates in tow. This couple also had Reza’s olive skin, which made them seem Italian or Greek, but now she knew they were Iranian. Reza said, “This is Zahra, and her husband, Mohammed.”
She shook their hands and returned smiles to every smiling face as they slipped off their shoes near the door and said again, “Hello.”
Reza waved down his driveway and Patti scooted closer, linking their arms for a moment. The next couple brought a bottle of wine. They also took off their shoes at the door while he said, “And this is Freydoun, and April.”
The man held out his hand to shake and said, “Fred, please.”
Clearly this group had all been Americanized if they drank wine, including her husband. She kept that to herself and glanced at the rows of shoes near the door, as that was a new custom to remember as she smiled and shook their hands. “Nice to meet you, Fred.”
She’d thought the get-together would be a few people, but Reza waved at another group. This time it was two women, one older, the other their age and quite beautiful. They slipped off their elegant heels at the door while Reza said, “And this is Leila, and Mariam.”
This was the woman who’d wanted to marry Reza? Her skin was flawless and glowing. Her hair was shiny and dark. And she dressed beautifully.
Leila was sophisticated and the opposite of Patti in many ways, but Patti held her hand out to shake and said, “Nice to meet you both.”
The women leaned in and kissed both sides of her cheeks. She froze, unsure what to do, but then Leila said, “We wanted to meet the woman that stole Reza’s heart.”
Heart? She hadn’t. Though they definitely had chemistry. “Reza and I are…”
She stopped and glanced at his strong jaw—what should she say? They weren’t in love and there was no heart-stealing involved.
Leila blinked long, dark eyelashes and asked, “Are what?”
Patti needed to regroup. She patted Leila’s arm and said, “Happy to meet you. Please come in.”
Reza held Patti’s waist and when she turned toward the door, he said, “And you remember Zahra, from the hospital.”
Zahra! She remembered her, and Zahra carried a huge cake box. Patti didn’t ask, but this time when she reached in and kissed her cheeks, Patti did the same greeting as she said, “Of course, it’s a pleasure seeing you again.”
The cheek kiss was very friendly.
The girls showed up dressed in yellow and green sundresses that matched like they were siblings already, but Sara guided Rose to seats like she needed no introduction. Reza had mentioned the nanny was available via a text whenever she was summoned.
Reza closed the door and they walked to the living room where people had gathered. Reza then told his guests, “Please join us in the back.”
His backyard was more like an outside living area and the screened lanai had a buffet table near the house wall. All of them streamed from the room and most of the guests hit the bar table to serve themselves, or checked out the buffet of food.
Patti stopped as Sara ran toward her and tugged her hand. Rose followed but she coughed, heavily. Leila came over to join her, but Patti picked up Sara and said, “You know Sara, and this is Rose.” She closed her other arm around her sister who continued to cough. “Excuse me for a moment, Leila. I want to check on the girls.”
Without one glance at Reza, she walked the two girls inside the house and felt her sister’s head. She seemed hot.
She helped Rose out of her yellow dress she’d worn for the party, insisting that she rest in bed and read a book.
The nanny came as soon as she was called and settled Sara, who stared at them with those big brown eyes of hers that seemed to take everything personally.
As Patti put Rose in her pajamas, Reza knocked on the door and came inside. “Patti?” He saw Rose’s flushed cheeks and knelt down in front of her sister. “Are you okay, Rose?”
Rose swayed a little and said, “I think I need to go back to bed.”
He picked her up and laid her on the mattress. “I’ll be right back.”
Patti sat on her sister’s bed, concerned that the pneumonia was getting worse. He returned with a black medical bag and she asked, “Reza?”
He opened the bag, and took out a thermometer and his stethoscope. “I’m checking her temperature now.”
“Thank you.” He waved the wand over her head and the thermometer showed a fever of over a hundred.
Patti’s smoothed her sister’s thin sheet as he listened to Rose’s lungs.
She wrung her hands together, wanting to help somehow, and Sara reached out to hold her. If anything happened to Rose, it was because she hadn’t been fast enough. Her continual ineptitude was like a knife to the heart.
As Reza finished listening, he nodded at Patti and said, “Get the humidifier.”
Right. Good. Action. She squeezed Sara’s hand, let her go and asked, “Where is it?”
He pointed to a closed door painted pale yellow. “In the closet. The nanny will stay with her, but I want her breathing to be easier.”
If anyone knew what to do, it was Reza. She flung open the door on a mission and read the labels on boxes of unopened toys. Then she found the humidifier and brought it out. As she unpacked it on the dresser, she asked, “The pneumonia?” Should they go back to the hospital?
She swallowed and read the directions. She’d need water for the machine. She headed into the en suite bathroom with the container to fill. Reza said, “Once the congestion breaks up, she’ll be completely fine. The medicine is working, but she’s had too much activity today, that’s all.”
Her heart stopped racing. Her sister would be fine. That was all that mattered. She called out, “Adding water now.”
Patti returned and Reza plugged the machine in, took the water container, and put the humidifier together.
She ran her hand up and down his spine as Sara asked, “Rose?”
Reza seemed startled that his niece spoke, but he smiled at her and said, “She’ll be fine Sara. I promise.” He turned the machine on.
Patti nodded at him like she believed him.
A hum filled the air from the machine. She stared at Sara, who had climbed into bed with Rose. Patti took a deep breath and said, “That’s good to hear.”
Reza didn’t seem concerned about his niece catching any illness from Rose. He said, “Rose needs to be off her feet and rest. Sleep helps her heal faster.”
“What about Sara?”
