The Rebound Girl (Getting Physical) (20 page)

You
know
,
if
they
decide
not
to
boycott
the
entire
facility
. They were all still working on that part.

The espresso machine was designed for easy use, requiring only the push of a button to get the beans ground and working. The smell of the freshly brewed coffee warred with the paint, but was still effective in wiping away the worst of Whitney’s exhaustion and irritability. She wasn’t even going to bother with milk this time. She needed caffeine, straight and dark.

“I hope you’re planning on making me one of those.”

Even though the morning sun had yet to rise and her back was turned, she felt no fear at the sound of that deep voice. Instead, she felt a rising displeasure coil around her insides, tightening there until it was so tight she might snap.

“Smells incredible.”

These last words were said so close to her neck, they might have just as easily been taken to imply the scent of her shampoo or her skin or anything close and personal and completely inappropriate.

She spun. The displeasure disappeared only to be replaced by the heart-pounding sensation of fury.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

The man chuckled, the sound just as deep and sexy as the voice. “Nice to see you too, Whitney. I see you haven’t lost your ability to say exactly what’s on your mind.”

She took a few steps back, needing distance. With her kick-ass boots, which boasted four-inch wedge heels, she had to look down to meet the man’s gaze. The gaze was as she remembered, dark and piercing, a possible element of mocking to them that she’d never been able to completely confirm or deny.

Jared Fine. Risen from the underworld, crafted from pure masculinity, savior to children all over the world.

God, how she hated him.

“I’m sorry,” she said, covering the hitch in her voice by turning to grab her little white cup of espresso. “I wasn’t aware you had to be handled with kid gloves now. Should I try again?”

He continued staring at her, his arms crossed over a chest built more like a barrel than a body part. She’d take that as a yes.

“Why, can it really be you?” she simpered, batting her eyelashes. “Dr. Fine?
The
Dr. Fine? Catch me while I swoon! Watch my bosom heave! Deliver me from evil!”

“Cute,” he said drily. “I think I prefer the honest, angry you.”

“Good.” She swallowed the espresso in one burning gulp and squared off to face her foe. She would not notice how good the years had been to him. She would not notice his perfectly aging crop of hair, salt-and-pepper at the temples. She would not notice the twining muscles of his powerful forearms or the deep lines in his swarthy face. Built like a bulldog, pugnacious from head to toe, it was so like a man—so like
him
—to get better with age. “Let me reiterate. What the hell are you doing here?”

“I know I’m early, but I wasn’t sure how passable the roads were here.”

“It’s upstate Pennsylvania, not the wilds of the Yukon,” she said, scowling. “And what do you mean early? Early for what? Your forcible removal?”

A puzzled look lowered his already low brow for just a moment before he gave way to full-hearted laughter. Whitney waited, impatiently tapping her foot, until he was done. That had always been the problem with Jared. He got so caught up in his reactions to his own thoughts and how they contributed to his own amusement that he forgot there might be other people in the world.

Well, that and the fact that he stuck his dick inside another woman after Whitney gave up her livelihood for him. She didn’t care to quibble over the details.

“You really don’t know what I’m doing here?” he finally asked, drinking in her frown as if it were ambrosia. “Pearl didn’t tell you?”

The room, which was generous even by upscale medical spa standards, suddenly felt very confining. Jared was taking up the oxygen, heavy mouth-breathing it all in and out on a constant loop.

What was it her mother had said the day she arrived? She’d set up a meeting with a potential investor?

Oh
,
Mom
. As far as maternal figures went, hers had to be one of the most blithely meddlesome on the planet—and if you asked her, the sun rose and set on Dr. Jared Fine’s wide shoulders. Even though she was firmly arranged on Whitney’s side in terms of the breakup, there was still a warm place in Pearl’s heart for the God of Guatemala.

And if her mother was thinking of a
deus
ex
machina
solution for their current predicament, Jared was the first place she’d look. He might have spent the better part of his adulthood practically working for free, but there was no lending institution in the world that would dare turn down a man as adored by the public as this one.

In fact, he was perfect.

Her stomach turned. That type of thinking had no place inside her head. It had no place anywhere within a ten-thousand-mile radius of her.

“Aren’t you supposed to be off saving the people of Beirut or something? What appeal can Pleasant Park possibly hold for a third-world rock star like you?”

“Rock star, huh?” He smirked. “I had no idea you were still holding a torch.”

“I’m not,” she managed, her teeth gritted so hard she could hear her dentist yelling from across the state. “But you’ve definitely got the ego for stardom. You always did.”

He tapped her forehead. “That’s your problem. You think that just because you haven’t moved forward in twelve years, no one else has either. Maybe it’s time for me to think about settling down. Maybe I heard that my best friends were opening the clinic we’d always planned together. Maybe my feelings were hurt.”

False. He didn’t have feelings. “I don’t need you. I’ve moved on. What do you think all this is?”

“Actually, we might need him.” Kendra’s voice broke through some of the heavy tension in the room. “I hope you don’t mind—your mom told me you’d be here.”

“Kendra!” Jared cried, turning. And just like that, Whitney was once again left to fend for herself. “You look incredible.”

Jared and Kendra spent a few minutes sharing one of those nauseating reunion moments, both of them exclaiming over how well-preserved they’d remained over the years. It was true, of course, but that didn’t mean it had to be shared in deafening tones and with heaps of exclamation points throw in. “I would ask if you’ve fallen into the hands of a master plastic surgeon, but I wouldn’t dare insult you that way. You don’t need any work. You never did.”

“Of course she does, asshole.” Whitney finished brewing another cup of coffee. At least it gave her something to do. “She’s not impervious to gravity. You just can’t tell she’s had anything done because I’m the one who did it. I’m good.”

“Not good enough, or I wouldn’t be here.”

The tiny white porcelain cup rattled in its saucer as she struggled to gain control. He was goading her on purpose. That was kind of Jared’s thing.

“Don’t be mean.” Kendra angled herself between the two of them. Like her mother, Kendra would profess up and down that Whitney was her favorite, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t loved Jared once upon a time. They all had. “Let’s go to the conference room. I think we need to talk.”

She ushered them down the hall and into the half-finished room, which would soon boast an oversized round table where they could talk over their procedures and woo the hard-to-convince clients. For now, it was a cavernously empty space with white walls and a thin layer of underflooring. Kendra, in comfortable-looking yoga pants, settled cross-legged onto the ground, gesturing for them to join her. Jared also had jeans on, paired with an Oxford shirt opened to the douchebag button located about halfway down his chest. He got down easily, extending his legs and leaning against the far wall. They stared at her.

Whitney had on a short black skirt over dark gray tights and slouchy boots. It was not an outfit for the floor. Unless one counted nudity, she never dressed for the floor. “I’ll stand.”

“Suit yourself,” Kendra said, but there was a note of hesitancy to her voice. Good. Whitney appreciated that her friend was pulling out all the stops to make this thing work, but that didn’t mean it was okay to side with her nemesis.

“Wait a minute—shouldn’t we wait for John before we start stirring up all these old, rancid memories? Does he know my mother has asked the prodigal son to return?”

If anyone would be on her side, it was John. John knew what it felt like to transform your life for a man only to have it squashed in your face at full speed. He didn’t talk about it much, but his Jared had been a closeted politician, his Guatemala a series of seedy hotels.

“I just got off the phone with him,” Kendra said. “He told us to get started. He should be here soon.”

As the alternative was to sit and make chitchat until his arrival, Whitney capitulated. “Let’s hear it, then. And this better be good.”

Kendra took a deep breath. “You know I’ve been running the numbers and looking at our options, and it’s not what we want to see. The chamber of commerce has denied our request to join the local business registry and our business license application is stalled in some kind of jumble of red tape. Even if that new bank loan goes through, we only have enough money to open the facility and operate for about two months.”

“That’s good.” It
was
good. “Don’t forget my career day thing at the elementary school coming up. That’s free positive PR.” And, oddly enough, she found herself looking forward to it. Kids and Matt under one roof. According to history, the very thought should reduce her to breathing into a paper bag and dropping her head between her knees.

Kendra frowned and feigned intense interest in her fingernails, which were free of polish but otherwise flawless. “The principal called, Whit. They’re going to pass. The official word is that they’ll only accept established professionals who have been in town a year or more. Next time, maybe?”

She swallowed woodenly. No tears in front of Jared. Not even a twinge of disappointment. Even after Matt stood up for her, she was no closer to being accepted here than when she started. “Sure. Next year.”

“And the real problem we’re facing right now isn’t necessarily the startup costs—it’s the day-to-day. Until our appointment book is filled and people show an interest, we don’t have a feasible long-term plan. More than money, Whitney, we need to improve our image. Without community backing, all we can do is pack it up and call it over.”

“Fine. If the school is a no-go, I’ll pick up shifts at the hospital,” Whitney said. “I can ask to be put on rotation. What I earn can go straight into the spa.”

John appeared in the doorway, leaning casually on the frame. Massive arms crossed over his chest in defensive mode, and his normally beaming face settled into a frown. “I meant to talk to you about that, Whitney. They’re retracting their offer to let you schedule operations there.”

Whitney’s chest tightened, and it became increasingly difficult to draw a full breath. That was it. Those were all her irons—and it seemed the fire had gone out.

As she looked from face to face, all she saw was the somber confirmation she was an utter, miserable, useless failure. Even Jared looked sympathetic.

“All this because I refused to kowtow to one uptight soccer mom?” Whitney knew better than anyone that one small mistake could lead to far-flung consequences, a butterfly effect rippling through her life. Why hadn’t she seen just how devastating this could be?

“What exactly did you do to her?” Jared asked.

“It’s not important.” Let her feel her guilt and shame in private. Share it with Kendra and John, even. Anything but parade it for Jared to enjoy.

“It
is
important,” Kendra corrected. “But it’s also only part of the problem. Jared, could you give us a second?”

Nodding once, he hopped up off the ground. He looked like he wanted to say something or offer a hand, but Whitney turned her back, her eyes pricking. Anything he had to say meant zero. Less than zero. A black hole of zeroes.

“I’m sorry,” Kendra said. “Your mom only just told me. I had no idea she even still talked to Jared. I got here as soon as I could.”

“I can’t believe you’re on board with this idea.” She brushed at the hot, angry tears forming in her eyes, refusing to let them fall. “You’re supposed to be my
friend
.”

Kendra winced. “I
am
your friend, Whit—you know that. But I’m also your business partner, and there’s a reason you and John put me in charge. You knew you weren’t always going to like my decisions, but you asked me to make them. So I am.”

“That was before I knew your decisions included bringing Jared back into my life.”

“I’ve been talking to area businesses, and you know what I’ve found?” Kendra asked, ignoring her. “Every single one of them has some sort of cause they’re allied with. Animal shelters, foster care, medical research. The people of Pleasant Park might be uptight and judgmental, but they care about giving back. And they want their local companies to care too.”

“So we’ll adopt a three-legged dog.”

“We don’t need a three-legged dog.” John moved to her side and laid a heavy hand on her shoulder. “Not when we have a world-renowned philanthropist offering to become our fourth partner.”

John’s other hand snaked around Whitney’s waist, holding her up. She might want to kill the man right now, but she would forever be grateful for him not allowing her to sink to the floor.

“It was always our plan to do this together, the four of us,” Kendra added quietly. “You know that. And with Jared by our side...”

Kendra didn’t have to finish that statement. Everyone in the building knew Jared Fine’s worth—no one more so than the man in question. Money, credentials, experience...not a single one of those things mattered. Not when it was his goddamn heart of gold that really cinched the deal.

Who—investor, patient or otherwise—could resist a man who’d dedicated almost half his life to providing free surgeries to the world’s poor and downtrodden? The number of pediatric cleft palates he’d repaired in his lifetime qualified him for sainthood, and that didn’t even count the number of years he’d spent in war-torn countries like Afghanistan helping save the lives of innocent victims of landmines and car bombs.