understand. And from that point they’d be a family again.
“Silken,
are you listening?”
Suave’s
voice jerked her out of her reverie. “What?”
“Where
is he, this Doctor Pintero? How soon can we talk to him?”
“Oh,
uh, yeah.” Silken blinked, half dazed. She looked at the screen again.
“There’s no contact information but I’m sure we can find him. We’ll start at
the hospital. He’s probably still there.”
Suave
gave her a look tinged with doubt. “I don’t know, Silken. Twenty-four years
is a long time.”
Silken
shook her head. “It’s not that long, not for a doctor. Lots of them work well
into their seventies.” She bit her lip. “Hopefully, he was a fairly young man
when he delivered us.”
“Yeah,”
Suave said, her brows creased in a tiny frown, “hopefully.”
CHAPTER
SIX
Almost
a week and a half passed by before Max’s hectic schedule slowed down enough for
him to breathe. After what Slater had sprung on him that day he was lucky he
hadn’t suffered a stroke or worse. After investing millions in having the
racetrack built, to be told they hadn’t secured all the necessary licenses? That
they may have to abandon the project? Jesus!
He’d
had to jump in and take the matter in hand himself, even going so far as to
gain audience with the California Racing Commission. His meeting paid off. Of
the eight objections to the construction, five of them were resolved there and
then. But they weren’t out of the woods yet. Three more to go…
And
in the midst of his dilemma there was one thought that never left his mind - he
wanted to see Silken McCullen again.
As
he sat in his office looking out the window at the highway in the distance he
smiled wryly to himself, realizing how dumb he was being. The woman had made
no attempt to contact him, not once since they’d parted almost three weeks
earlier, even though he’d given her his card. She’d probably forgotten he even
existed. But here he was like a lovesick teenager, pining over her.
Max
chuckled. Pining was probably too strong a word. Thinking about her. Yeah,
he’d give himself that. He’d been thinking about her these past few weeks and
now that things were just barely beginning to get back to normal he definitely
wanted to see her again. He picked up the phone and dialed her number.
Silken
picked up on the second ring. “Steady Auto. Silken speaking.”
“Hello,
Silken. It’s Max. How are you?”
There
was a gasp, very subtle, a soft intake of breath, but he heard it…and he took
it as a good sign.
“Max.
It’s…great to hear from you. How have you been?”
“Good.
Just busy. And you? You’re fine?”
“I’m
fine,” she said, her voice stronger now that she’d gotten over the surprise of
his call. “Just trying to stay out of the heat, but hard to do when you’ve got
cars to work on. That’s why I stick my head as far under the hood as I can.”
She laughed, sounding more like her confident self.
“We
just touched June. I can imagine how you’re going to sweat when we get to
July.”
“Excuse
me? I don’t sweat, I would have you know. I perspire.”
Her
dramatically indignant tone made him laugh. “My apologies, ma’am. Let me make
it up to you. If you can take a break from work there’s a new Japanese
restaurant in town I want to check out. They have an indoor waterfall, perfect
for calming the spirit. Very Zen. Want to come?” Then he threw in the coup
de grace. “Air conditioned, of course. Perfect, after a day of baking in the
sun.”
“Ooh,”
she moaned, “sounds good. I wonder if I can…” She paused, as if thinking.
“I’m sorry,” she said, the regret clear in her voice, “I don’t think I can get
away. We have a client picking up her car in an hour. I have to be here to
make sure everything’s just right.”
“So
your team can’t get the job
Laramie Briscoe, Seraphina Donavan