AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Porn,” he says casually while opening the car door for me.
I stop and gape at him. “What the hell, Cressard? Do you have to corrupt everyone you cross paths with?”
“I don’t know, Chils, have I successfully corrupted you?” He lowers his voice, and I feel every velvet tone deep inside me. My entire body pebbles at the sound. Or melts.
Swallowing hard, I slide into the seat. “You’re incorrigible.”
Dominic walks around and joins me. “Guilty as charged, but very innocent this time because Ralph insisted. Give the man some guilty pleasure in his old age.” He winks.
“Until he has a heart attack from the excitement?” I glare at him.
Usually, when I leave the hospice, I’m wrapped in frustration and anger to mask the hopelessness. Dominic seems unaffected.
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but Ralph is there practically waiting for the inevitable. I’m pretty sure he’d be fine dying from excitement a few days early rather than continuing to wait for the end bored out of his mind.”
I stare. Speechless. It sounds so wrong, yet feels somehow right. Even after all these years, I still have a tendency to overprotect the residents. I don’t believe I can play God and prolong their lives, but it’s a natural reaction.
Apparently, I need my fake boyfriend to remind me to actually live by my motto. The one Andrea’s pictures on my wall remind me of every single day. Not all my good intentions benefit others.
“Let’s have lunch, Chils.” Dominic gives the driver instructions and I relax into the seat. I don’t even mind he’s ordering around my driver, not asking me if or where I want to eat.
I’m not annoyed because it feels good to let someone take care of me. I really am tired.
He takes me to a posh bistro in SoHo.
“How do you even know about this place?” I ask as we wait to be seated. The restaurant teems with activity.
“I overheard two women talking about it at the gym.” He turns to talk to the hostess.
“You’re paying attention to other people’s conversations while working out?” I follow him around tables full of delicious meals and inviting aromas.
“I’m paying attention to women.”
Of course he does.
He pulls a chair out for me then bends too close to my ear. “Always.” A whisper of breath touches me, igniting another involuntary reaction that reaches my core. My body is getting seriously addicted to this man.
“So, what kind of services does your nonprofit offer?” Dominic spreads the linen napkin across his lap.
“Anything they need, but beside the hospice, we mostly help people navigate the system: dealing with appointments, insurance, banks, any part of their life that is impacted by their diagnosis. I have a team of people who call around, source things, apply to programs, look for support groups, et cetera.”
“It looks like you could benefit from a legal clinic.” He splits a warm bread roll and pops it into his mouth.
“Yeah, but I don’t have the resources to start such a project, so we refer our clients to other clinics in town.”
“Yeah, but the needs of people with cancer, or any other life-threatening or debilitating diseases, are different. Having a clinic specific to the issues of people with terminal illness or long-term disabilities and their family members could improve their quality of life significantly.”
“You’re not wrong, but my focus has been research. The support arm of our services is something that sprung up organically based on necessity. And yes, there is way more we can do, but not enough funding or time to tackle it.”
“Perhaps I could help.” He cocks his head.
“You really are hoping to avoid hell.”
He shocked me this morning when he wanted to come along. I thought it was just because he felt bad how we left things last night. I thought it was an empty gesture.
“Why are you so set on reminding me that my practices don’t meet your standards?” He shakes his head, scowling.
“Theydon’tmeet moral, and most times, legal standards in general.”
