Not Quite Forever (Not Quite series) (9 page)

“I told Walt I would.”

Ah! That explains why they’re all still here.

Just before nine, Dakota removed her cell and checked her messages. Nothing.

It wouldn’t bode well for Walt to stand her up with his colleagues by her side. He probably got caught up. Deflated, she gathered her purse, dropped her phone inside. “I’m going to use the restroom and head out,” she announced while she placed a few bills on the table to pay for her drink.

Nancy looked relieved, Valerie blinked several times, and Maria was already headed toward the door.

“It was great meeting you,” Maria managed. “I’m sure Dr. Eddy just got tied up. It happens.”

“It’s all good.”

By the time
Dakota
left the restroom, her new friends were gone.

The crowd in the bar had grown, but not by the one person she’d come to see.

She considered driving over to the hospital but thought better of it. She’d call him, leave a message, and suggest another time.

The cars in the lot were lit only by the lights of the bar. In an effort to keep her car from gathering dings and dents, she’d parked close to the back but found it surrounded by other patrons anyway.

“Hey, baby.”

Dakota didn’t bother looking behind her. Her hand slid into her purse, grasped the stun gun she always had close by.

“So it’s like that, eh? Too rich for us?”

“Not interested,” she called behind her shoulder, hoping the guys would get the hint. There were three of them, all wearing black, brown skin, black hair.

Returning to this bar was checked off her list. Her car was five feet away.

“C’mon, babe. Take a chance.”

She avoided a panic and then heard footsteps catching up with her.

Dakota slipped the stun gun out of her purse and clicked off the safety. She didn’t scare easily, but wasn’t afraid to admit to herself that she was out of her element.

“Hey!” She heard the shout right as a hand grasped her shoulder and spun her around.

The self-defense weapon was engaged and screeching with an ear-shattering pitch. The sparks of the device briefly lit the space between her and her enemy. Without looking, she shoved it at the hand holding her.

“Oh, fuck!” The hand dropped and Dakota took a giant step back.

From the bar, she heard laughter. The three men taunting her were still standing there.

Kneeling on the ground, holding his arm, was Walt.

“Oh, God.”

Dakota dropped her purse and moved beside him. “Are you OK? Oh, no.”

“Damn, woman.”

“I thought you were them . . . I’m sorry.”

Walt’s eyes were closed, and his arm kept twitching.

She’d never actually had to use the stun gun on anyone before. It obviously worked.

“She got you!” One of the guys yelled across the lot.

Dakota flipped the hecklers the bird and helped Walt to his feet.

“What the hell was that?”

The weapon was still clenched in her grip. “A girl can never be too careful.”

Walt kept rubbing his arm where the electricity had met his skin.

“Does it hurt?”

Walt met her eyes. His frown said everything.

“Sorry. Really.”

“Serves me right for being late.”

He wore scrubs and plump, turned-down lips. “You look exhausted.”

“I-I am. I knew trying to hook up after work wasn’t the best idea.”

Dakota retrieved her purse from the parking lot asphalt. “You’re a doctor . . . goes with the territory.”

He looked around. “Where’s Dale . . . Valerie?”

“They left.”

The lines on Walt’s face moved deeper. “Dale should have walked you out.”

“I’m a big girl, Doc.”

He rubbed his arm. “You don’t have to tell me that.”

She moved his hand and turned him toward the ambient light from the bar.

The angry red welt pulled a small cry from her lips. “Is that going to be OK?”

“Fine. I’m sorry I left yo
u here alone.”

She shrugged and the night air made her shiver. “You should probably go home, get something on that.”

His soft eyes swept her frame and his frown finally started to shift. “You look great. Too good for this dive.”

“It was my suggestion.”

“Scrubs or sweats, not stilettos and spandex.”

She winked. “Got it. But I don’t own a pair of scrubs and only my workout pants are spandex.”

He laughed, stepped closer. “I’m sorry this didn’t work out.” She felt his fingertips push away a lock of her hair and tuck it behind her ear. The warmth of his hand had her leaning into his touch. “Let me make it up to you?”

“I just hit you with a stun gun, Doc. You don’t have to make up for anything.”

“For the reason you reached for it then.”

“As long as it doesn’t include a dive bar.”

His hand found the side of her neck and held on. “How about you pick and I pay?”

She lifted an eyebrow and held still as he closed the space between them. “I have expensive taste.”

He hovered over her lips. “I can handle it.”

Dakota lifted her lips to his, let the sensual shock vibrate through her. The long wait in the bar was quickly forgotten . . . that was until the catcalls from the yahoos watching them met her ears.

They both pulled back, laughing. “I won’t forget this night anytime soon,” he told her.

“Me either.” Admittedly, she wouldn’t have a burn on her arm from it.

Walt walked her to the door of her car and opened it for her.

She turned over the engine and rolled down the window before shutting the door.

He leaned over the car. “Do you own a gun?” he asked.

“A gun?”

“Yeah, you know . . . bullets?”

She pulled her hair over her right shoulder and looked up at him with a grin. “You snuck up on me.”

“I need to know what kind of medical kit I need to have on hand for our dates.”

“An almost date. Kissing in the parking lot doesn’t count. Not since high school anyway.”

Walt tossed his head back with laughter and moved away from the car. “Be safe, Dakota.”

“You, too, Doc.”

Chapter Seven

Brenda never called. Hearing her voice on his answering machine shot alarm bells off in Walt’s head.

“Who is the best little sister in the world?” she asked when the machine gave her time to talk.

“I am, that’s right. I just learned through several channels that Mom is setting up not one, but three potential love matches for you when you come over for Dad’s party.”

Walt groaned.

“Don’t you dare flake on this party since I told you this. Larry told me to relay that he’s already got a bottle of Crown stashed at Mom and Dad’s for you.”

Larry was his sister’s husband. Poor sap lived less than twenty miles from his in-laws and had to endure a whole lot more than Walt did.

“Take some advice from your younger, albeit wiser, sister. Bring your own dates and this shit will stop. Love you, bro. Can’t wait to see you next week.”

He’d been running nonstop since he watched Dakota drive away, his arm stinging beyond anything he’d experienced.

He was doing his best to get all his obligations out of the way so his date with her the next night could go on uninterrupted. He’d ordered flowers, and he’d even stocked his wallet with new condoms. That made him either a bastard or thoughtful. He still wasn’t sure which. One thing for sure, he was hopeful he’d use them. Dakota, and her stun gun, had invaded his head. He thought of her and couldn’t ignore the heat inside him.

The day after the incident at Joe’s, Walt took it upon himself to scout the area around the hospital to see if there was a better alternative than the watering hole they were all used to.

Sadly, everything else pushed his limits of dive bar or was so trendy and opposite from everything he and his colleagues looked for in a place to unwind.

Walt set his clean laundry, clothes that really needed to be folded and put away, aside on his sofa. He turned on his TV and opened a beer. He hadn’t watched a game in forever, knew he could get the last half of the Dodgers game.

He was cursing a ref’s call when his phone rang.

“Hey, Doc.”

Damn her voice was sexy. After quickly turning down the volume, he replied. “Didn’t I tell you to call me Walt?”

“You did. But I never dated a doctor before so you’re just going to have to deal.”

“So it’s a status thing?”

“Yep! I’m dating you for your title.”

“And a character profile.”

“Right. Both those reasons.”

He laughed.

“Don’t hate me,” she said with less laughter in her voice.

“Why would I—”

“I have to bail on our date tomorrow.”

He really hoped he wasn’t hearing her right. He switched off the TV, not wanting the distraction.

“Seriously?”

“I have to fly to New York tonight. My agent pitched my latest book to my publisher and she wasn’t happy with their first offer.”

“So what does that mean?”

“She pitched it to three more publishers and now there’s a frenzy building.”

Walt knew nothing about publishing but somehow understood
a frenzy
in Dakota’s world was better than in his. “This is a good thing?”

“Crazy good.”

“Do you like your current publisher?”

“Love ’em. But in business, you try to get the most for less. Desi, that’s my agent, suggested we push for more money, and everyone is outbidding the last. They call it an auction . . . it’s never happened to me before. So I’m going to New York to meet with the different publishers. I want to know who I’m signing with and if I can work with them.”

“Sounds exciting.”

“It is. Sucks that I have to flake on you.”

“Work comes first.” Still sucked, though. “How about next weekend?”

“You’ll be in Colorado.”

He leaned back on his couch, scratched his head. “Join me.”

She hesitated. “In Colorado?”

“Yeah.” He’d probably kick himself for this later. “Fair warning . . . I’m using you so my mother doesn’t set me up with unwanted women.”

“As in plural? More than one?”

“So my sister tells me.”

“So I use you for my current book, and you use me to get Mummy off your back?”

“That about sums it up.” Should he mention his supply of condoms?
Nawh!

“OK, Doc . . . you have yourself a weekend date. Oh, wait . . . saying that aloud brought up all kinds of images.”

It certainly did.

“Separate rooms,” he offered. “I don’t expect—”

“Won’t that raise a red flag on your plan?”

“I don’t have a plan, Dakota. Come with me to Colorado and we’ll figure it out when we get there. One thing for sure, my work won’t get in the way.”

“And I’ll have this deal worked out before I get back to LA.”

“So you can use me, and I can use you.”

She busted out laughing. “I’m rubbing off on you, Doc. Your parents are going to hate me.”

“I doubt that.”

“Can you add me to your flight at this late of notice?”

Shit.
He hadn’t bothered booking a flight. “I-I’ll figure it out.”

“Walt?”

“Uhm . . .”

“You seriously haven’t booked your flight yet, have you?”

He stood and started toward his office with the phone to his ear. “I was hoping for an outbreak of the pig flu.”

“The pig what?”

“Inside joke. I’ll take care of it.”

“You need a personal keeper.”

“You might be right about that.”

New York was nothing like LA . . . nothing! Flip-flops and shorts ruled on the West Coast. In New York, few in the professional world would be caught in flipping shoes and shorts, which were reserved for weekends and days at the Shore. If there was one rule Dakota’s mother taught her in life it was
if you don’t know what you’re doing or have no idea how you managed to get where you are . . . fake it.
Dakota lived by that on her first trip to The Big Apple . . . and now she had it down.

For reasons of neutrality, Dakota paid for her own upscale hotel room. Damn thing cost more per night than a month in her college dorm. She chose a Morrison to stay in. Might as well stay loyal to those she actually knew . . . or in her case, knew by proxy.

After her second meal with as many publishers the next day, Dakota’s head spun.

“They’re trying to make me fat.”

Desi set her purse on the desk in the small suite. “They’re trying to hand you four million. That’s what they’re trying to do.”

Dakota sat on the edge of the bed, kicked off her shoes. “A hell of a lot of money.”

Desi leaned against the desk, crossed her tiny arms over her chest. The woman was polished from head to toe. Her dress probably cost close to a grand, her shoes five hundred. Dakota knew she worked hard and deserved her eighty-dollar manicures but Dakota had only recently gotten used to handing out generous tips.

“Tell them it’s a series and we’ll double that amount.”

“I don’t know if it’s going to be a series . . . not yet. I have to write the book first, Desi. You know that about me.”

A light blinking from the phone caught Dakota’s attention. She used the distraction and picked up the phone to check her calls. “Hold that thought.”

The desk answered, but instead of patching her through to a message center, they took her call to the concierge.

“Ms. Laurens. We didn’t anticipate your arrival. Please accept our apology.”

“Excuse me?”

“Mrs. Morrison has asked that we meet your every need, Ms. Laurens. We have a bellhop coming to you now and your room is ready.”

Dakota looked around her suite . . . which she had to admit was the smallest one she’d found available. But this was New York and everything here cost way too much per square inch.

“I’m in a room.”

“Yes, ma’am . . . but we have another waiting for you. Please accept our apology.”

Dakota couldn’t be more confused.

Desi answered the door while Dakota tried to figure out what was going on.

“Ms. Laurens?” the bellhop asked.

Desi motioned toward Dakota, who decided to hang up the phone and deal with the person in front of her.

“I understand you’re moving rooms.” The bellhop stood rod straight, his hair gray at the sides. His uniform had straight lines and not one off-putting stain.

“This is the one I paid for,” Dakota told him.

“Yes, ma’am. Please follow me. If the room doesn’t meet your needs, you’re more than welcome to stay here.”

Dakota sent a puzzled look to Desi.

Her agent shrugged.

After grabbing her purse, Dakota let the employee lead her and Desi away.

They entered the elevator, where the bellhop swiped a card over a sensor before handing her the key. “In order to enter your room you must swipe this key here and press the floor within five seconds.”

The elevator shot to the top floor.

“We have you in number two.”

The bellhop opened the penthouse doors wide. The massive room spread out in front of her. Her suite faced west and the sun was setting. The view from this floor, the lights, the crystalline angles, the endless rows of buildings . . . New York lay sparkling in all her energetic glory below. “It’s breathtaking.”

The bellhop rocked back on his heels. “Mrs. Morrison asked that you call her sister if you have any concerns about the room. If it’s all right with you, Ms. Laurens, we’d like to transfer your things here.”

“I . . . ah, I can—”

“I assure you . . . nothing will be missed.”

Dakota’s head bobbed on her neck like a doll’s.

When the bellhop left the suite, Desi moved to the center of the living room and turned in a full circle. The great room spread over eight hundred feet, a piano sat in one corner, a bar and kitchen in another. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered views of the city and a portion of Central Park. Fresh flowers sat on a table by the door, a basket of fruit graced the dining table.

“How do you know a Morrison?” Desi was already headed toward one of the doors on the far side of the suite.

“I don’t.”

The master bedroom was larger than the living room in her condo. King-size bed, massive TV . . . a balcony with French doors. The bathroom looked like a Tuscan spa.

“He said Mrs. Morrison arranged this.”

“I know Monica, not her sister.”

Desi hesitated in the doorway of one of the extra rooms off the main suite. “Who’s Monica?”

“I met her at the conference.” Distracted, Dakota moved to the massive windows and stared at the setting sun. “She used to work with Walt.”

“Who’s Walt?”

“The doctor I’m dating . . . holy shit, Desi. This view is amazing.”

“Dakota!” Desi’s voice actually rose above Dakota’s thoughts. “Can you please connect the dots for me?”

“Monica is a sister-in-law to Mr. Morrison.”

“As in the owner of the hotel?”

“As in owner to many hotels . . . or so I found out when looking them up. Monica is a nurse practitioner who once worked with Walt. I told you about Walt, right?”

Desi shook her head and sat on one of the two plush sofas. “No.”

Dakota brought Desi up to date on her love life.

“So this is the guy who prompted your idea for the book.”

“This is the guy I had to blow off for this visit to New York.”

Before Desi could say anything else, the bellhop returned with her bags. She directed him to the room with her luggage and removed a tip from her purse.

He pocketed the cash quickly. Before he left the room, he said, “Again, we’re sorry for the inconvenience. The room provisions are complimentary, as is any in-room dining you may need during your stay. Have a nice evening, Ms. Laurens.”

“Room provisions?” Dakota asked the closed door.

Desi laughed and moved to the kitchen. “Open bar, doll . . . what do you want?”