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I leaned against the exam table for support. There wasn’t anything I could physically do to make my daughter better, and that was almost debilitating. I closed my eyes, trying not to panic.
A hand touched my forearm. “It’s scary to see her like this. Especially the first time they’re really sick.” The doctor’s voice was calm, yet authoritative. “We’ll do everything we can to make sure she’s as comfortable as we can until she’s well.”
“I don’t want her to suffer,” I whispered.
“I know you don’t.” Dr. Shah gave me a reassuring smile. “She’s lucky to have a mother like you.”Was she? I didn’t even know all of her symptoms.Please, Ella . . . you have to get better.
Chapter Eighteen
Andrew
A week.
A fucking week, and her truck hadn’t been parked in its spot.
I didn’t know how to reach her. Had no phone number. Couldn’t even do a search for an address because I didn’t know her last name.
The only reason I knew she was alive was because she’d picked up her food truck from Ed’s. That was little consolation when I was going out of my mind. When I checked the lot where she stored the truck, I wasn’t sure how I should feel about seeing it parked there day in and day out.
Obviously something was wrong. I was torn between worrying myself sick and stuck in a fantasy when I thought about that kiss on repeat.
It had changed my life.
But I was angry. At myself for being too stupid to get her phone number. And at her for not reaching out to me. I’d even resorted to asking my dad to fish around with Ms. Quinn. Yet another dead end.
She couldn’t kiss me like that, run off, and then disappear. But I totally understood her concern for Ella and why she’d rushed away. Even I was worried. I shoved a hand through my hair and banged my fist on my desk.
“Just made an offer on twenty more.” Victor strolled into my office unannounced and dropped a file folder on my desk.
“Don’t tell me you’ve swooned my secretary into letting you in without warning.”
He grinned wolfishly. “It’s six thirty, so your guard dog is off for the night.” Where had this day gone? “You look like hell.”
“Someone keeps piling more work on me.” I leaned back in my chair and scrubbed my face.
Victor sank down in a seat, making himself at home. “Is that any way to speak to your best client?” He was in a stellar mood. But buying and selling properties did that to the man. “I should put you on staff at my company. It would be a lot cheaper.”
Hewasmy best client. In fact, he kept me so busy, I hardly had time for anyone else. But I wasn’t going to work for him. I liked having my own firm. It was what I’d worked toward, and I wasn’t giving it up.
I pointed at him. “You’re buying me dinner. A nice one.”
“With all the business I give you, I think you owe me.”
“Fine.” I stood and shrugged on my suit jacket. “You pick.”
“I didn’t come here for a date.” He pushed out of his seat as if he had nowhere important to be. “We can work on this. I want them closed in a week.”
“A light load, huh?”
“Wait until you see what I have lined up.”
I winced. “Do you ever think about investing in higher priced properties? Quality over quantity.”
“That’s not what you really want.”
“I could take a percentage of the sale price,” I said as I locked up my office.
“You already do.”
