Shifting Gears (16 page)

“You know how busy I am with work. I
don’t have time for dating.”

“Well, honey, you’re not getting any
younger, and I want some grandbabies.”

“Maybe one day.”

“I feel it in my bones. The man who
gets you will be the luckiest alive. You’re beautiful and have a
heart of gold, sweetheart.”

Tears well up, but I’m not sure if
it’s because she wants me to be happy, or because I can’t help
thinking of what will never be with Holt. I suck them back as I
take in a breath. No way in hell I want her to hear me
cry.

“Okay, I have to go. I need to get
ready for work.”

“Okay, okay. Chin up, baby. Don’t look
back. Just keep it moving.”

She’s been saying that to me ever
since I can remember. Even before Dad died. It’s like her motto,
and, because she’s drilled it into my head for so long, it’s
something I’ve always practiced. Somehow Holt managed to be an
exception to that rule.

“I know. Love you. I’ll let you know
if I can make it up this weekend.”

“Love you too, sweetheart.”

****

As I pull into my parking spot at the
hospital, I think about Beth for the first time since the weekend.
I hope her resentment, if that’s what it is, has died out over the
past two days. If it hasn’t, I’m going to talk with her again,
apologize for my abruptness.

The first person I see when I walk in
is Katy and, thankfully, she doesn’t seem standoffish.

“Morning, Niki!” she says, her normal,
cheerful Katy-self.

“Morning.”

“Did you hear about Galaxy? They got
the deal.” Her face is full of excitement.

“What? They did? Oh my God. I’m so
happy for them.” I squeal and do a happy dance. “Damn, though.
Guess we’re the little people now, huh?”

We share a laugh, a pretty good way to
start the day. The Rox strikes again. Making somebody’s dreams come
true.

My morning goes by in a flurry, and by
lunchtime, I’m ready for a break. While I wait in the drive-thru, I
check my phone. No missed calls. No texts. I haven’t heard from
Holt since last night, which is...odd. It’s probably a good thing,
though. The less contact I have with him, the longer it delays the
conversation I have to have with him. Before I talk to him, I’m
going to need a shot of something. Maybe one of Cass’s
concoctions.

As I’m walking to my office with my
lunch, Katy stops me. “Wait. Here are your messages.”

The pink slips in hand, I walk past
her to my office. Halfway there, I see Beth coming toward me, head
down. When she looks up and sees me, she cuts a corner really
quickly and goes in another direction. Yeah, got to clear that up.
I can’t have her feeling like shit because of me.

At my desk, I pull out my iPod and
throw in my buds. Axl Rose is belting out “Welcome to the Jungle.”
Most days that’s what work feels like...a jungle. All the animals
coming and going and their antics. But I love every minute of
it.

When I start flipping through my
messages, one stands out because I don’t recognize the caller. It’s
a Mr. Calhoun, and all that’s on the note is his number, no
message. I put it aside while I finish my lunch, planning to ask
Katy if she remembers him and what he wants. Probably a
pharmaceutical rep new to the area, trying to drum up business, but
it’s odd she didn’t write his company name. I like to check out new
distributors and run them by Karen, the owner of Hobbs, first
before using them.

After tossing my sandwich wrapper in
the trash, I pick up my phone and tap the reception
button.

“What’s up, Doc?”

“Katy, do you remember this Mr.
Calhoun calling? What he wanted?”

She pauses for a moment. “Oh yeah, he
just asked directly for you and said it was a personal
matter.”

I crinkle my eyebrows, wracking my
brain, trying to remember if I know him, but nothing comes. What
kind of personal matter does he need to discuss with me?

“Okay, thanks.”

I hang up with Katy and dial his
number.

He answers on the second ring.
“Calhoun. Talk.”

Alrighty then. That’s some way to
answer the phone.

“Um, yes, this is Doctor Niki
Stringer, returning your call, Mr. Calhoun, is it? How can I help
you?”

There’s silence on the other end for a
moment. “Well hello, Doctor. Glad you called me back. Saves me some
trouble.”

What the hell does that
mean?

“I need to get in touch with Doctor
Caravan, and I was told you’d be the one to make that
happen.”

“Doctor Caravan? No sir. I haven’t
seen or spoken to him since he left town.”

“So let me get this straight. He
hasn’t called you, tried to contact you?” The tone of his voice is
accusing, as if he doesn’t believe me.

Who is this guy? Why’s he looking for
Doc C?

“With all due respect, Mr. Calhoun,
may I ask what this is with regards to? If it’s something to do
with the hospital, I’ve taken over his position, and I’d be more
than happy to assist you.”

He laughs. “No, sweetheart, it’s
nothing to do with that hospital. Listen, if you know what’s good
for you, when the doctor calls—and I know he will—you tell him to
give his good pal Vinnie a call.”

What the hell? Did this guy just
threaten me?

“I can assure you, Mr. Calhoun, I
haven’t had any contact with Dr. Caravan, but if I do, I’ll
certainly give him the message.”

“Good girl.”

“Whether he calls you back isn’t in my
control.” I hang up.

I’m pretty sure this Vinnie guy is bad
news. I look at the number again. It’s not a local area code. I
don’t remember Doc C ever telling me about any friends outside
Georgia. That was his whole thing with travelling. He’d never been
anywhere out of the state. Ever. I get chills. This
sucks.

I’d thought before that it was weird
he didn’t call, check in with us, but now with this Vinnie person
looking for him, I can’t help but think something is terribly
wrong. To just cut ties with us, with the hospital, with the
community. Everything he loves. Everyone who loves him.

He not only took excellent care of the
patients that came through the hospital, but he also did his duty
within the community. Before he left, he was volunteering at the
animal shelter. And he would spend a lot of his weekends at the
boys and girls club with the kids, taking some of the dogs from the
shelter there to interact with them. He’s just a wonderful man, a
man I looked up to and respected very much.

Something tells me to keep the phone
call private. Whatever this Vinnie Calhoun person wants with Doc C,
I’m afraid it’s not good. I just need to find a way to contact Doc
before anything bad happens.

My first thought is Holt. Maybe he has
connections, or, since he’s good at tracking people, maybe he can
find him so I can warn him. I have to do something. I can’t sit
back and wait for something bad to go down, knowing I could’ve
possibly prevented it.

Shit. This means I can’t tell Holt I
don’t want to give us another chance. If I do, he might not help me
find Doc. Damn it. How the hell am I going to be able to do this? I
got to though. For Doc.

I knock on Holt’s door at Claremont’s.
It’s one of the older motels in Coral Springs, on the other side of
town, but the manager seems to keep it clean.

Even with chipped paint peeling from
its white exterior and one of the neon lights in the sign blown
out, there’s no sign of trash. The lawn is neatly manicured, with
the pretty faces of a row of pansies greeting guests as they walk
along the sidewalk to the front office.

There’s no response when I knock, so I
turn to look at Sex on Wheels in the parking spot outside the door.
As I’m about to knock again, the door opens and Holt is standing
there, minus his clothes. My eyes are instantly drawn down to the
towel wrapped loosely around his waist. It’s draped low on his
hips, showing off that perfectly beautiful V. His skin is still wet
and glistening from the shower. I’m in a daze, enjoying the view. I
can’t help it.

Holt laughs, jolting me out of my
trance. “You coming in, babe, or you going to just stand there and
think about what’s under this towel, waiting for you?”

Shit. This is going to be hard as
hell.

Holt stands aside, still laughing, and
I reluctantly walk in. His room is small and dimly lit, and screams
seventies, from its wallpaper and panel walls to its brown shag
carpet and the floral bedspread on the queen-sized bed.

The mirrored panels on the wall facing
the bed are nothing less than tacky. Any woman’s nightmare, but
every man’s dream, I’m sure. The scent of Pine-sol barely covers
the stench of mildew. The whole room is dark and depressing.
Lonely. For the first time, I find myself feeling sorry for Holt,
thinking places like this must be where he spends most of his life.
Alone.

The feel of Holt’s arms around me
pulls me out of my thoughts and sends a shiver down my spine. His
hardness is pressed to my ass, and the only thing standing between
a naked Holt and me is that skimpy excuse for a towel. My body
temperature rockets, but I try not to let my arousal
show.

“I’m glad you’re here, baby,” he
whispers in my ear, making my legs almost give way.

It doesn’t take much from him for my
body to betray me. Before I can say anything—what the hell was I
going to say, anyway?—Holt turns me to face him. He brushes the
hair out of my face slowly and gently cups my chin to kiss me. A
sweet, sensual, so-much-meaning-behind-it kind of kiss.

I’m breathless.

My worries about him going further
quickly vanish as Kilo thwarts any plans Holt might have had. Thank
God. He barrels out of a doorway and charges at me, nearly knocking
me down. His tail is wagging like crazy as he licks me all over.
Seems Kilo has fallen in love with me just as fast as I fell for
him.

I drop to the floor, getting to Kilo’s
level. “Hi, sweet boy!” I give him a rubdown and scratch behind his
ears.

I’m still petting his soft coat when I
tilt my head back up to Holt. With Kilo as a distraction, it’s
easier to pretend Holt’s not just standing there, wet. “How’s he
doing with his medicine?”

“Well. He’s been taking it, but that’s
not really the problem I’m having with him.”

Doctor mode kicks in. “What’s wrong?
Is he not eating?” Sometimes animals lose their appetite when
they’re on a medication regime.

“Uh, no. Look at him, woman. Does it
look like he’s missing any meals? Shit, he won’t eat dog food
anymore because he thinks he’s on a steak and potatoes
diet.”

I laugh. My kind of dog. I almost
scold him, though, about people food being bad for him, but I
decide to wait. “So what’s the problem?”

“Well, I think he’s getting tired of
being stuck in this room every day. I take him out for walks when I
can but I’m not—”

“You’re not what?”

His jaw suddenly becomes tight. He’s
gritting his teeth, I’m sure of it. Whatever he’s stumbling over
trying to say is making him uncomfortable. Great.

“I’m not here much during the day
because I’ve got shit to do, and I’m not sure how much longer...”
He trails off again. “So he’s not getting much exercise during the
day.”

Well, there it is. For the first time,
solid confirmation that he’s on a job. And by the sound of it, he’s
not planning to stay.

Not going to be as hard as I thought,
not giving in to him.

I stand up and escape to the chair
sitting across from the bed, laying my purse on the side table.
“Well, maybe we can work something out with you. Maybe bring him to
the hospital. We have the fenced-in grounds in the back that our
kennel uses. It’s not much, but it’s something.”

“That might work, babe. Beats him
being all alone here every day.”

“Okay, well, bring him in whenever
you’re...working. Just call me first so I can let the kennel know
to expect him.”

“Sounds good. Thanks, babe.” Holt’s
attention moves to my purse. He points to it. “That your overnight
bag?”

I know immediately where he’s going
with this. “I’m not spending the night, Holt. Just dinner,
remember?”

Holt sent me a text before the end of
my shift, reminding me I was “his” for the night. I got excited as
I read it, I can’t lie. Still, I held my ground, texting him back
to tell him I could only do dinner, that I had another full day of
surgeries tomorrow.

He gives me a sinister grin.
“Okay.”

I know what that grin means. He
controls me. He knows it. I know it. And what he intends to do
about it scares me. I’m eventually going to run out of excuses to
stay away from him. Having sex with him was definitely a mistake. I
loved every minute of it, but opening myself back up to him like
that sent out the wrong message.