Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
Jasmine walked toward the front desk. It was almost five-thirty, and the practice was quiet with the phones off and no one in the lobby.
Keisha was at her desk, shoes off, munching on a protein bar as she worked on scheduling updates before she went home. She looked up at Jasmine.
“Hey. I thought you’d left already,” she said, returning her attention to the computer.
“I had some bookkeeping and filing to do, and I didn’t want to leave it undone and have to come back to it on Monday. I just wanted to cross the tasks off my list.”
“I hear you.” Keisha clicked a key on the computer. “You and Nicholas have big plans for the weekend, or is he going to surprise you like he did with the flowers?”
Tomorrow was Valentine’s Day, but she’d already had her Valentine’s Day celebration with Nicholas yesterday. She had known he’d be coming by to take her to lunch, but the flowers had been an unexpected surprise.
“He left town yesterday afternoon, which is why he sent the flowers and took me to lunch. He’s traveling for work.”
“On Valentine’s Day weekend?” Keisha spun around in her chair. “That sucks. You’re spending the day alone?”
“Yes, but we’ve already had our celebration. Lunch was fantastic.”
“Don’t forget the flower arrangement the size of an SUV.”
“Yes, so I’m good. I might go over to my parents’ place and hang out with them tomorrow.”
“That’ll be nice.” Keisha turned back to the screen.
“What do you and Marcus have planned?”
Keisha and her husband had been married for almost ten years but behaved like newlyweds.
They both loved surprising each other and religiously set aside one weekend a month to do something together, just the two of them.
According to Keisha, they enjoyed each other’s company so much, they had decided they didn’t want to have kids.
“We bought the Saint Valentine package at Chateau Elan. We’re heading up there tomorrow to drink wine, gorge on delicious food, and stay at the spa.”
“Are you staying overnight?”
“Of course.”
“Oooh, nice.” Jasmine walked over to the file cabinet.
The sound of keyboard clicks filled the quiet around them as Keisha continued working.
“Hey, can I tell you something?” Keisha asked in a low voice as Jasmine was putting a new label on a folder.
“Sure. What’s up?” She gave her coworker her undivided attention.
Keisha dropped her voice lower. “Today I heard Dr. Santana talking to Miss Crosby. Her daughter’s a new patient.
A bundle of energy but a real sweet girl.
Anyway, Miss Crosby was saying something about the difficulties of being a single mother with a ten-year-old and holding down a full-time job with no help from her daughter’s father.
Dr. Santana told her she’s doing a great job and that her daughter was thriving because of her consistency.
” Keisha shook her head slowly. “The way he said it, though, his voice was... I don’t know how to explain.
It was so—” she fanned herself and sighed.
“Something about the way he praises the moms—and us—for doing a good job makes me all hot and bothered. It’s like he’s talking dirty to me in the bedroom. ”
Jasmine knew exactly what Keisha meant. Maxwell’s voice did things to her.
It was like warm silk being dragged against her skin, but it wasn’t just his voice.
It was the way he said the words. The combination was lethal.
Low, unhurried but intense, as if he had all the time in the world and had decided to spend it all on you.
Throughout the night they had sex, the stuff he had said was diabolical, intensifying the sensual power of his strokes.
She remembered every word. They had sounded so intimate, whispered in husky undertones, heating her skin and making her wetter.
Just like that. Almost there.
Keep working those hips. You’re doing so good.
You’re fucking perfect.
Such a good girl.
Her thighs clenched at the memories. “Are you ovulating?” she asked Keisha, to get her mind off her sexual thoughts.
“Stop. I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
Keisha let out an exaggerated sigh. “All I’m saying is, having him here has been a tad bit problematic. Every now and again I consider calling my husband for a lunchtime quickie.”
“T.M.I.”
Keisha giggled but then looked slyly at Jasmine. “I know you’ve got Nicholas on the brain, but are you telling me you haven’t noticed how good a job Dr. Santana is doing? Or how hot he is? I know a good optometrist if you need an eye exam.”
Jasmine turned her back to Keisha as she slid a folder into one of the drawers. “I can admit he’s good-looking,” she said reluctantly. Despite her friendship with Keisha, she had never told her that she knew Maxwell intimately.
“Thank you! I was beginning to wonder if you were blind.”
“My eyes are fine, thanks.” Jasmine retrieved the file she had been searching for and slammed the drawer shut.
“I get the feeling that you don’t like him.” Leaning back in her chair, Keisha studied her with a thoughtful expression. “You’re one of the few people I know who gets along with everyone. I’m more likely to not like him.”
“I think he took care of that issue when he bribed you with the plant. For the record, we get along fine, so it’s not that I don’t like him,” Jasmine said.
“What’s the problem, then?”
“Who says there’s a problem?” Jasmine countered.
“There’s definitely a problem.”
Keisha wasn’t budging, so Jasmine had to think of something to say, but she couldn’t articulate what the issue was because she didn’t know herself.
She and Maxwell had a strange relationship.
Their banter energized her, but she knew it couldn’t go any further.
Nonetheless, her pulse tripped over itself every time she heard him talking in the hallway or heard his deep-throated laughter because one of his little patients had said something funny.
And why did he look extra hot in his white coat—with multiple pens stuck in the top pocket—as if he was on a runway instead of strolling the halls of a pediatric practice?
“He’s too perfect,” she blurted.
Keisha’s eyebrows drew together. “What do you mean?”
“It’s ridiculous how all the mothers are already fawning all over him. ‘Oh, Dr. Santana, thank you so much.’ ‘Dr. Santana, you’re so patient. I wish my husband were more like you.’” Jasmine rolled her eyes.
Keisha covered her mouth as she giggled. “Stop. I mean it.”
Now that she was on a roll, Jasmine didn’t want to stop.
“Mrs. Livingston met him for the first time at the tween workshop and showed up with her twins yesterday—in a sundress! It’s February!
I know her ass was cold. Talking about, ‘I do hope you’ll be the boys’ doctor for a very long time.
Have you settled into Atlanta okay? If you need help with anything, do let me know. ’”
She thought that was a good one, especially since she put an extra Southern drawl into her voice to match Mrs. Livingston’s accent.
But Keisha didn’t laugh this time. She was looking over Jasmine’s shoulder, and that’s when she felt it.
The distinctive shift in the air that she should have noticed before.
“He’s behind me, isn’t he?”
Keisha nodded, biting her bottom lip.
Jasmine closed her eyes momentarily, took a deep breath, and turned around.
Maxwell was leaning against the doorframe. She had no idea how long he’d been standing there and what he’d heard since his face offered no information.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt. I wanted to leave this in Patricia’s mailbox so she could see it first thing Monday morning.” He held up an envelope and then pushed away from the door to stroll into the space.
Keisha—who Jasmine planned to murder very shortly—spun her chair toward the computer and started energetically typing.
Maxwell dropped the envelope into Patricia’s box. On his way out, he paused. “I didn’t know my presence was a problem.”
His dark eyes held a trace of amusement, which she found profoundly annoying. He already had a big ego, and whatever he’d overhead had probably made it swell to the size of the moon.
“It’s not,” she assured him.
“Really?” That single question was said in a way that suggested he had heard something different. “For the record, I don’t flirt with my patients’ mothers.”
“I never said you did.”
“I wanted to make that clear.”
“Noted.” She refused to look away, locking eyes with him.
Finally, the amusement touched his lips. “Good night, Keisha,” he said.
Keisha jumped, as if she had been so absorbed with her work, what he said shocked her. “Good night, Dr. Santana.”
“Jasmine, good night. I hope you have a great weekend.”
“Thank you.”
He walked away, moving silently down the hall.
Jasmine let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding and swiveled toward Keisha.
“Don’t kill me,” Keisha said immediately.
“Why should I spare your life? How could you not tell me he was standing right there?” she jabbed a finger toward the empty doorway.
“I tried to tell you with my eyes, but—”
“With your eyes?” Jasmine whispered fiercely.
“Yes. But you were having such a good time making fun of Mrs. Livingston, you weren’t paying attention.”
“Maybe I do need that optometrist referral after all.” She glared at Keisha.
Keisha pressed her lips together to keep from laughing.
“Don’t you dare,” Jasmine warned.
Unable to hold it any longer, Keisha busted out laughing. She snorted, which made Jasmine laugh too. Keisha removed her glasses and dropped her head on the desk, shoulders shaking as she was consumed with laughter.
When they both sobered, Jasmine shook her head. “Never a dull moment with you.”
“You wouldn’t have it any other way.” Keisha popped the last piece of her protein bar in her mouth and put her glasses back on her face.
“You’re absolutely right,” Jasmine admitted. “I’m gonna finish up in my office and then leave. How much longer are you staying?”
“Ten more minutes, max.”
“Okay. Don’t stay too long. Seriously,” Jasmine said as she walked out.
“I won’t.”
Jasmine entered her office and sat behind her desk. Her pulse was beating out of control, and her stomach was oddly tight. Maxwell had heard her.
Not awkward. Not awkward at all.