Everest raised a brow in question.
“Long story,” I explained. “A hook-up turned out to be a college reporter. Became a whole thing.”
“She wastwenty,” Kenna said incredulously. “You’re over a decade older than her.”
I raised a brow at her. “You’re nine years younger than Merrick.”
Kenna huffed at me. “That’s different.”
“Tell yourself that when you’re pushing Grandpa around in a wheelchair.”
Merrick chucked an ice cube at me, bouncing it off my forehead. “Focus,” he warned, but the corner of his mouth twitched like he was trying not to smile.
“So, you think we should buy it?” I asked.
Everest nodded. “It looks like a solid investment. You’ll want to make sure you have a good marketing strategy in place when you reopen. Some fresh offerings.”
“Eva and I have that covered,” Kenna said.
“How much will it cost?” I asked. I blew through cash like a drunk preacher in a Vegas strip club for the first time. Despite not having to pay rent at the clubhouse, my savings account was thin.
Merrick shared the number, and I choked on my drink. “Dude, I don’t have that much. I paid cash for my new bike. I have maybe half of that in the bank.”
“I’d be willing to go in as a silent investor,” Everest offered. “It would give me an excuse to come visit more often. I’d be mostly hands-off. I could have my admin handle the paperwork for you guys, too. She oversees payroll and accounting for my other ventures.”
I shared a glance with Merrick. “It would be good to have someone who knows the business side.”
“I’m good with that,” Merrick said.
“And you’re sure you want to go into business together?” I asked Merrick. Sure, we were friends. But we also butted heads more than anyone else in the club.
“There’s no one I trust more than you,” Merrick insisted.
Chapter Nine
It was all-hands-on-deck in the ER. Independence Day in Texas meant beer, barbecue, and bad decisions. I’d already evaluated two men for blown-off fingers, three burns, and one bourbon-soaked teenager.
“Those are for you.” A nurse gestured at an over-the-top vase of red roses and a box of my favorite hazelnut pralines. I opened the note stuck into the flowers and ground my teeth as I read the message.
Thinking of you as I visit my family this week, amore mio. They can’t wait to meet you. When I return, we’ll fix things. I love you. — Luca
I handed the box of chocolates to the nurse. “You can have these. Give the flowers to someone who needs them.” I stormed toward my next patient.
“Wait,” she yelled.
I turned. “What?”
“Dr. Rossi asked me to give you this letter if you wouldn’t take them.” She reached her hand out with a folded note.
I crossed my arms. “You can toss it in the trash.”
“Dr. Morris, please. Take it,” she begged. “He said he would make my life hell if I didn’t give it to you.”
I clenched my jaw and took the note, slipping it into the pocket of my scrub pants. It was one thing to threaten me. I’d have to talk to him about intimidating the nurses.
My next patient, a young mother, rocked a sleeping baby against her shoulder, one hand rubbing slow circles on his back while a toddler with crooked pigtails played with a doll beside her.
“Elena Alvarez?” I asked, glancing up from her chart.
