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Daniel
Gina’s gazedrops to the plate in front of her. “I had no idea you were so skilled in the kitchen.”
That’s a compliment I’ll gladly accept with a smile. “I’m self-taught.”
“I tried that.” She lets out a squeak of laughter. “When Bella was living with me. I wanted to surprise her, but instead, the smoke detector did that for me when she got home from work one day.”
I try to mask my amusement by taking another bite of food.
“Are you speechless, Daniel?” she teases. “Don’t be. I amthatbad of a cook.”
I swallow down a piece of salmon with a sip of water. “This morning, you told Marti that you want to learn to cook. I’m all in for offering lessons, too.”
She gestures to the food I prepared. “Will you teach me to cook this?”
“Absolutely,” I affirm with a nod.
“I’d like that.” She sighs. “What did my grandma make you and your client for lunch today?”
“What didn’t she make us?” I huff out a laugh. “It was a four or five course spread. My client raved about the food. She loved every bite.”
Her left eyebrow perks. “She?”
I can’t tell if there’s jealousy behind the question, so I answer in a way that I hope brings a smile to her face. “I didn’t have lunch with Elowen.”
A grin slides over her perfect lips. “That’s good to know.”
“I’d like to know about the doctor,” I broach the subject that’s been haunting me all day. “I’m curious, Gina. Start by assuring me that you’re not sick.”
That thought started nagging at me last night as I watched her sleep. The idea of a world without Gina is unbearable. I need her to be healthy for a hell of a long time.
“I’m fine.” She sets her fork on the edge of her plate. “He asked to speak to me yesterday after Vern’s appointment because he saw that viral video of my dad and me in Calvetti’s.”
I nod. “Is he a fan?”
She’s got millions of them, and at least a dozen ask her to marry them on a daily basis. I know this because I devote a little too much time to reading the comment sections of her posts on social media.
“No.” She laughs that off with a brisk shake of her head. “He’s looking for help.”
“Help?” I laugh. “Is that code for sex?”
Her shoulders slump forward. “You’re so jealous.”
“I am,” I admit it because why try to lie about something that obvious? “What does he want help with, Gina?”
“Gaines has a patient who is deaf,” she tells me. “A few patients actually who need an ASL interpreter. His employee who is proficient in that left unexpectedly last week on an early maternity leave, so he asked if I knew a certified interpreter who was looking for some extra contract work.”
“Do you?”
She jerks a thumb toward herself. “Me.”
My brow furrows because I’m surprised, not only about why he wanted to speak to her but that she’s interested in an opportunity like that. “You?”
She nods softly. “I think I might want to do it, Daniel.”
Before I can respond, she’s reaching across the table for my hand.
I can tell she’s apprehensive about the conversation, so if she needs me to offer her comfort, I’ll do it.
