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“We should have the final results after the weekend, but it looks promising so far.”
“That’s great news. Who’s the donor?”
“It’s an anonymous donation.”
“Wow. This feels like a dream.”
I’d tossed and turned every night since Kensi’s diagnosis and barely ever slept through to morning.
“Please let them know my gratitude. Given compatible results, when could we do the surgery?”
“Given the donor’s ability, within days.”
I felt like I’d gotten a new lease on life. My daughter would get her liver, and she’d live.
“Thank you, Dr. Hippo. Please let me know if you hear anything else.”
“I will. Good to see you, Mr. Silver.”
I took the staircase downstairs and went to grab a coffee at the hospital’s snack shop when I noticed a familiar brown head of hair in the line ahead of me. I tapped the guy in front of the shoulder.
“Hey, you mind if I scoot ahead of you? I know that girl.”
He looked me up and down, and I handed a crisp twenty into his palm. “Your coffee’s on me. Keep the change.”
“Sure, bro.”
I did the same with the next three guys, and sixty bucks later, I was standing behind Laura. The last guy let me butt in for free.
“Hello, Officer Young.”
She whipped her body around. Her lashes flipped fully open, and her mouth opened and closed as she searched for her words. She had let her hair down from its usual bun when she was in uniform. It was longer than when we’d met, and sexy. She made the MILF vibe difficult to miss.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
“Bone marrow biopsy.”
“For Kensi’s transplant?”
“Yes and no. Just crossing all the t’s and dotting all the i’s. What about you?”
She cleared her throat. “My parents work here.”
“I thought you weren’t on speaking terms.”
“We’re trying to reconcile.” Her gaze skidded from one end of the room to the other. “Isn’t that odd? We don’t see each other for three years, and then I run into you twice in the past couple of weeks.”
“Three times,” I corrected. “This is our third. We could have had a fourth or even a fifth if you’d returned my calls.”
“Sorry. I’ve been busy. Reconciling.”
“So now that you’re not busy, you’ll agree to a date with me? How about Friday night?”
“I don’t think I can get a babysitter by then, and I already told you, I’m not dating.”
I called bullshit on that, but if Laura showed at the Marina this Friday, I wouldn’t have to call it out.
“Can’t blame a guy for trying. How’s work?”
