Fate Interrupted (19 page)

A band of moths
cranked up in Dean’s stomach, stealing his breath. He had been seconds away from
getting out of this horror show and now he was seconds away from
getting sucked
in even deeper. “Sure,” he said dully, the
color leaving his face.

Clay smiled
brightly. “Great. I’ll tell Megan to call you with the specifics.”

Dean stared at
him, his brain already scrambling for a way out as Clay finally pulled the door
open and headed back the way he came.

Dean mopped the sweat
from his lip with his hand, refusing to believe any of this was actually
happening. He hated Megan for bringing this angry cloud over his world, a world
that had been shining like an angel’s halo on a bright spring morning.

Gina appeared in
the doorway and Dean barely noticed the way her nipples were poking through her
satiny black top. The frown gripping her face was another story.

“Who the hell is
Megan?”

His shoulders
slumped. “No one,” he said, grabbing his cell phone and keys from the desk.

“Before you
leave, Mr. Whitmore would like to see you in his office.”

An exhausted sigh
hissed from his lips. He stared at the folder on his desk, Clay’s words
assaulting his every turn. “Why?”

Gina shrugged.
“Don’t kill the messenger,” she said flatly, heading back to her post up front.

He stared at the
plaques on the wall, blurring them into meaningless pieces of framed paper.
Everything was hollow now, filled with no significance, tainted from a new
reality he still dared to believe. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to imagine
what his boss could possibly want. Whatever it was, Dean was sure he would have
a hard time paying attention. He straightened his coat and practiced his smile
in the reflection of his
iPad
before leaving his
office.

***

The parking lot was
nearly deserted and that was a good sign. Dean needed a plan of action and
needed it fast. A bell rang when he pushed the glass door open and stepped
inside, the smell of sanitizer and a Glade plug-in mixing in his lungs. The
empty waiting room was a sight for sore eyes, confirming the barren lot outside.

“Well, hello,
Dean!”

A courteous
smile wiggled through his unshaven face.
“Hi, Marie.”

 
“I thought your cleaning was next week.”

“It is,” he
said, leaning against the moon-shaped front desk. “Is Shaun free?”

She stared
blankly at him for a moment, waiting for him to elaborate. When he didn’t she
picked up a black phone. “Let me check,” she said, punching some buttons and
putting the phone to her ear. “He should be finishing up a root canal.”

“Thanks.”

 
Bob Segar’s
Turn the Page
oozed from the recessed speakers in the ceiling, serenading
Dean with a mournful saxophone that mirrored his drained disposition in perfect
harmony. His eyes wandered out a nearby window overlooking a small wooded area,
where Clay’s words lurked in the shadows, waiting for him to leave. He winced,
realizing how close he had come to having it all.

“Doctor Morris,
Dean is here to see you up front.” Marie chewed on the tip of a pen as she
listened, watching Dean with the phone pressed against her ear. “No, Dean
Martin,” she laughed.
“Of course Dean Jacobs.”
She
rolled her eyes and smiled. “Okay, I’ll tell him,” she said in a light voice,
hanging up. “He’ll be right out.”

“He really makes
you call him
doctor
?”

She leaned back
in her chair and let out a short laugh. “Dentists are doctors, Dean, don’t you
know that?” She leaned forward and lowered her voice. “And don’t you dare try
telling him any different or he’ll take it out on my Christmas bonus.”

Dean chuckled
and took a seat in the waiting room, eager to avoid any further small talk. He
sat down with a tired sigh and picked up a curled issue of
People
magazine with Kate Middleton
’s pretty face
splashed
across the coffee-ringed cover.

“So how have you
been?”

A cringe wormed
through him like an invasive Amazonian species. He looked up to Marie’s rosy
face and tried on a smile that didn’t fit. “Good. Busy with work but in this
economy that’s not a bad thing.”

She pulled her
multi-colored smock out from under her belly and swiveled towards him in the
chair. A loud squeak punctured the quiet around them. “So has a lucky woman finally
snatched you off the market yet?”

He opened his
mouth just as Shaun burst through a metal door with a narrow window. He wore dark
blue scrubs with a pair of glasses hanging around his neck and a surprised look
on his face. “What is up, big
baller
!” he said,
holding the door open and nodding to the back. “Come on back.”

Dean set the
magazine down and got up, thankful for the rescue. He smiled at Marie and
thanked her again.

Shaun let the
door close behind them. “Well, this is a nice surprise.”

“I catch you at
a bad time?”

“Not anymore,” Shaun
replied, leading him into a spacious corner office. He shut the door and took a
seat behind a large mahogany desk. “Just finished up a root canal on a
sixty-five year old cat lady and now I’m covered in cat hair and bone
fragment.”

Dean took a seat
in an armchair facing the cluttered desk, his face souring.
“Lucky
you.”

Shaun rested his
elbows on the desk. “I can’t get clean, Dean,” he said softly, rubbing his hands
together. “No matter how hard I scrub, I can’t get clean.” He took a pensive
breath. “Although, this new
hottie
that rolled in
here this morning almost made up for the cat lady.”

Dean lifted his brow.

“You should’ve
seen her,” Shaun grinned.
“Huge tits!
Just what the
doctor ordered, too.
More hot chicks and less screaming kids.
I get enough of that crap at home.”

A thin smile
spread Dean’s lips.

Shaun cleared
his throat and studied Dean, picking up on his silence. “Listen to me going on
and on about my problems when you look like shit.”

“Thanks.”

Shaun opened a
cabinet behind him and took out a small mask with a plastic tube running to a
silver canister lying on its side.

“You want some
gas?”

Dean held up a
hand. “I want a plan.”

Shaun shrugged. “I
thought we went over this last night,” he said, returning the mask and turning
back to face Dean.

“Megan’s dad
popped into my office today.”

Shaun’s jaw hit
the desk with a dull thud. “What? Why?”

“Said he wanted
to introduce himself and tell me how much he and his wife appreciate my
offer
to help out with Megan’s pregnancy.”

Shaun’s eyes
nearly popped out of their sockets.
“
Offer
?
Why would you do that?”

“It was an empty
gesture!”

“Oh my God,” Shaun
said faintly, opening a bottom desk drawer and retrieving a bottle of scotch.

“Yeah and get
this, the guy is an alderman running for mayor – Clay Crawford. Ever heard of
him?”

“I don’t follow
local politics. The national stuff is boring enough as it is.”

“Anyway, he and
his wife are going to be out of town tomorrow at some
campaign rally
and he wants me to drive her to a doctor’s
appointment in the morning.”

Shaun pulled two
rocks glasses from the same drawer without taking his eyes from Dean. “Shut the
hell up.”

“I’m not even
kidding.”

Shaun poured a
finger’s worth of the golden liquid into each glass and slid one across the
desk to Dean. “Well, this isn’t going to get you back into Evy’s panties.”

“Tell me about
it,” Dean snorted. “It’s just one thing after another at this point.”

Shaun raised his
glass. “Here’s to life’s curveballs.”

Dean stared at
him without moving.

Shaun bobbed his
eyebrows and took a sip that made him wince. “It’s a test.”

“How?”

“She probably
has a million friends who could take her to the doctor tomorrow, or at least an
aunt or something. He just wants to see if you’ll do it.”

Two women
laughed in the hallway just outside the door, coating Dean’s nerves with an
underlying tone of irritation. Their carefree attitudes made him jealous. He
was so far from that kind of lackadaisical communication it was scary.

He shifted in
the chair. “So what’s he going to do if I don’t show up tomorrow? Stop my
building’s garbage collection?”

“You never know.
Those small time politicians are ego-driven maniacs, who love to flaunt their
pull.”

Dean’s eyebrows
drew together as he took a sip of his drink, immediately regretting it as Fleetwood
Mac’s
Rhiannon
drifted down from
above.

Shaun set his
glass on the desk and licked his lips. “Skip the doctor thing tomorrow. You
start getting in deep now and you’ll never get back out. It’s like quicksand. Like
I told you last night, you don’t even know that A) she’s really pregnant, or B)
it’s
yours.”

Another flourish
of laughter out in the hall caused Dean to imagine people eavesdropping with
water glasses pressed to the door.

Shaun lowered
his voice. “Trust me, bro, this guy’s just trying to intimidate you into doing
what he wants, but you have to push back. If you don’t, you’re going to end up
a Lamaze partner.”

A short laugh surprised
Dean when it broke from his lips.

“Are you going
to tell Evy about this Clay guy?”

“She won’t talk
to me, so I doubt it.”

Shaun took a
thoughtful sip and released a heated breath. “This is all going to work itself
out. Trust me, this Megan girl just wants to sink her teeth into a successful
guy so she never has to work a day in her life. I’ve seen it a million times
before. Her dad has nothing to do with this.”

“You want to
hear something really funny?”

Shaun lifted his
brow.

“Whitmore just
made me partner.”

An eerie silence
fell between them.

Shaun stared at
Dean with his jaw dangling in the sterilized air. “Are you serious?”

“Who says timing
isn’t everything, huh?”

“That’s
incredible, man. Congratulations!”

Dean snorted and
checked his cell.

Shaun’s brow
creased. “You don’t even care, do you?”

Dean took
another sip of the scotch and grimaced with the burn.

Shaun exhaled
slowly. “You just stick to the plan. Blow this Megan chick off tomorrow morning
and show
em
who’s
boss.” He
took a quick drink and shrugged. “What’s the worst that can happen?”

Chapter
Ten

Dean stared at
his cell phone, willing it to ring, trying to use the force. Only one thing
could help ease the pain right now and seeing Evy’s name pop up on that screen
would go a long way. He checked his watch to make sure the time on the screen
was correct. It had been nearly twenty-four hours since she had kicked him out
of her apartment and it was all he could do to keep from calling her like some
lovesick schoolboy. He pulled up her name in his contacts and stared at it,
needing to hear her voice, even if it was just her greeting. His thumb hovered
above the call button.

His eyes jerked to
the picture of them at the ballpark he had brought home from the office in case
Clay decided to pull another pop-in. He wanted Evy as far away from that guy as
possible. A wistful sigh seeped from his lips. Her green eyes were enchanting,
lighting up the living room and breaking his heart at the same time. The smile
shaping her lips convinced him they could be like that again. This wasn’t over.
Maybe she would answer if he called. His thumb circled the green button. Maybe
she was ready to talk. He exhaled a pent up breath and scrolled down to Megan’s
name instead and hit call.

The first ring
triggered a flutter in his heart. Maybe Megan wouldn’t answer because she had
met somebody and they were deep in conversation over a candlelit dinner for two.
Maybe Dean would already be yesterday’s news and he would be quick to take a
hint.

A soft click
silenced the ringing and his hopes too soon. Megan fumbled with her phone and
he almost hung up.

“Hey sexy, I was hoping you would call me back.”

He shut his eyes
and cringed, her upbeat tone wringing the air from his lungs. “Sorry about
that, I was swamped with meetings all day,” he said, hyping up sounding tired
from a phony day at the office. Even though it was a lie, it was easy to pull
off.