It's All Fun and Games Until Someone Falls in Love Read online

  “What, nothing to say about me not buckling it”

  “Bitch, no. If you die you die, but at least this way I won’t get pulled over because you don’t have it on. I got a warrant for that speeding ticket from last summer.”

  I stared out the window and tried to pretend I wasn’t squashed into what amounted to a tuna can on a roller skate running off one battery smaller than my favorite toy. Come to think of it, when Rachel was ‘flooring it,’ the Mini Cooper kind of sounded like my vibe when I put it on high. That shit made me laugh and groan at the same time. I would have turned to Rachel and said something about it just to piss her off, but I wanted to get to my mom, not end up being cut out of the can. Rachel’s a little sensitive about her car and a whole lot crazy. She’d run us into oncoming traffic and get us smashed, then blame that shit on me and the other driver.

  I’ve often wondered where that nutty in her came from. She isn’t just crazy like most folks. She is a special kind of “Hey, let’s go attack Russia in the winter” crazy. Matter fact, I know she is beyond that. If she had attacked Russia in the winter, my girl wouldn’t have eaten no horse meat. Nope, cuz she’d have needed that motherfucker to be able to get her out of there. Instead, she would have lured a fellow soldier to her tent with the promise to “eat him.” No doubt the army would have been short a few men, but my girl Rachel, that bitch would have been sexually satisfied and well fed when she got home. And trust, she would have gotten home. I bet she has some French in her. That might explain the porcelain skin and dark hair. Also might explain why she has that St. Andrew’s cross in her living room that she keeps telling people is a piece of strange art she picked up. Not that I was going to admit

  to anyone how I knew what a St. Andrew’s cross was, anyway.

  I jumped out of her car as she pulled up to the main doors of the hospital. Well, I say jumped, but hell, it was more like “popped.” I swear to heaven that thing shivered and sighed in relief when I finally emerged. I wonder if it felt like it had just given birth, because I was feeling slightly born again. You know—confused, bewildered, angry and exposed. I glanced around to see if anyone was laughing at me. When it appeared that no one was paying attention, I kicked the door closed and pretended not to hear Rachel yelling about her paint job.

  Straightening my back and my clothes, I turned and counted to ten. I put on my best ‘don’t start none cuz it won’t end the way you want it to’ face and slammed my fist into the little button that opened the handicap door. When it whooshed open, I strolled in and right up to the information desk. I waited patiently while the two chicken-head candy strippers finished conversing with each other and turned to face me.

  I didn’t even drum my fingers on the desk, but I couldn’t help but suck on my teeth and bunch my mouth to one side. I wasn’t feeling like being ignored today, but I was trying to give them the benefit of the doubt. Finally, one young lady turned to me and looked me up and down before saying, “Can I help you?”

  Bitch, you can help me by getting that frown off your face when you look at me. Got your forehead all wrinkled like I disgust you, but your eyes are glued to my cleavage. Closet lesbo. You know you want some chocolate, but I swear ‘fore GOD you touch me, wink at me or even breathe wrong at me, you will be a permanent resident of this mug.

  “Yes, I am trying to find my mother. Lloydia Smythe-Dominquez.”

  “Dominquez, Dominquez…” the short brunette repeated as she tapped her fingers on the computer monitor and scanned the list of names.

  She passed a strange look to her counterpart and caught the little redhead’s line of vision. Yeah, I know she is so far in my bra, she knows all Victoria’s secrets. A small wounded look crossed her face, but she quickly recovered and turned to face me again.

  OH, I SEE!!! IT’s like THAT. Poor baby is at work with her crush, and here her boo is staring me down like I am the last Hershey’s kiss. Mmmm, don’t worry, pumpkin, your stuff may be slippin’ on the side, but it won’t be with this chick. I should get a big-ass tattoo on my chest. STRICTLY DICKLY in big bold letters. I mean really, folks are always staring at the goodies anyway, might as well set ‘em straight to begin with. And why is it I get more chicks staring at the curves? Must be jealous. Tryna figure out how to get out the gym and get some curves like these. Damn, focus, Jonica, she’s talking to you again.

  I shook myself out of my musings. And asked the brunette—Tina her name tag read—to repeat what she’d said.

  “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I need to see your I.D. Mrs. Dominquez has a guest list. You must be on that list for us to allow you up.”

  “Are you kidding me? My mom has a guest list? In a hospital?” I patted my pockets front and back, trying to remember if I had any I.D. on me. Finally, I reached into my bra and pulled out my cell phone. I always keep a copy of my driver’s license tucked there. I handed the I.D. to Tina, but the redhead grabbed for it. Without thinking, I curled my upper lip and snarled at her. Freckles pulled her hand back, and Tina looked over my I.D.

  Okay, this is some straight bullshit. Since when do hospitals have guest lists? What the hell is that all about?

  “Ma’am, do you mind removing your sunglasses please and looking

  straight forward?”

  “What the fu…umm, excuse me?”

  “It’s nothing, ma’am, just standard security. Your mom is in the private wing, so we just need to get your face on camera. One of the nurses will go confirm your identity with her and then come escort you up.”

  “Aint’ that some bullshit.”

  “Yes ma’am, actually it is, but we don’t really get a say in how they do stuff around here. Hang on a second.”

  Tina gave me a weak smile as she handed back my I.D. and then answered the small white phone. The whole handset had a strange blue glow to it when she picked it up.

  “Okay, I’ll just send her up, then.” She spoke softly into the receiver.

  Placing the phone back on the base, she turned to me again, all the while casting sideways glances at the girl next to her.

  “It’s Jonica, right? Your mom is in room V333. They’re actually short-staffed up there today, so if you’ll just take the black elevator to the third floor, her room is the fifth door on the right. If you get lost, there is a map just outside the elevator, or you can use the call button in the hallway—one of the orderlies can direct you.”

  “Wow, it’s like I’m in the Ritz or something. Say, sweetheart…I know it’s a lot, but can you do me a huge favor?” I waited while Tina’s smile lit up her face and she bobbed her head up and down.

  Damn, she got the fever too, huh? Well, work it, Jonica. Mami

  always did say, “kindness and a wink can get you things.”

  “I don’t know if my mom put my best friend on her guest list, but when she comes, can you have her call me before you send her up or kick her out? If my mom is getting out today, I’m going to need my car to take her home.”

  I scribbled Rachel’s name and description down on a notepad and handed it back to Tina before sauntering the short distance to the black elevator. Part of me was secretly hoping Rachel wasn’t on Mom’s guest list. Maybe I’d get to see her on one of those TV shows being dragged out of the hospital by security.

  I rode the elevator to the third floor with my eyes closed and my back pressed to the side wall nearest the buttons. There were two other people on it with me, both getting off on the second floor. I didn’t really make eye contact with them, but I placed myself nearest the controls and the exit. I am not afraid of elevators per say, but I like having a position of dominance in public places. If someone nuts the fuck up, I need to be closest to the exit. I also don’t need some dickhead playing games pushing buttons and breaking shit.

  Once the two men in scrubs got off on the second floor, I quickly pushed the button to close the door and send it up a floor. I saw the cutie in the lab coat making for the door, but I was hot and needed a moment to adjust my undergarments. I hate underwire
bras, but I need the support. I pursed my lips and blew air down my shirt, trying to cool off, and prayed there weren’t any cameras in the elevator. Slightly parting my legs, I shifted my weight rapidly from one foot to the other, hoping to cause some sort of breeze between my thighs. I knew I shouldn’t have worn this skirt today, but damn, I hadn’t planned on being out in the freaking heat or having to visit my mother in the VIP section of the hospital either.

  Pressing the button on the control panel, I released the elevator from its hold and the doors whooshed open. A cool breeze washed over me, and I tipped my head up to bask in the relief. My nostrils flared as the scent of “hospital” invaded my senses. But there was also an underlying hint of…yummm.

  “Damn.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I was thinking, too.”

  The deep voice scared the shit out of me and turned me on all at once.

  This is it, bitch—you’re about to get mugged in the hospital on your way to some fake VIP section to see your mom. It was a setup. Mami is probably down in the broke people section like normal folks, and you just let two teenage lesbians trick you to your death.

  I kept my head back and said a silent prayer while crossing myself. One final deep breath later, I lifted my head and looked right into the face of the hottie I’d closed the doors on a floor earlier.

  “So did you just need a moment to yourself, or you don’t like white men?”

  WTF?

  I couldn’t keep the shock off my face. My mouth dropped open, and I let out a half choked sound. Cutie was leaning on the wall outside the elevator looking like sex on a plate. With his right hand braced on the wall and his tall frame bent towards me, he leaned in and placed his finger under my jaw. After closing my mouth for me, he reached in further and pushed my sunglasses up my nose.

  Girl, no ring and no tan line, bettah snap that up before Rachel gets up here and adds him to her collection of whipping boys.

  “Ummm, huh?” I asked, still taking in the sheer amount of space this man was occupying. I mean really, honey was FIIINNEE, but add to the beauty of him the fact that he so could not have fit in the elevator with me, and you got a whole lotta whoa. He had to be six foot seven, and there was no telling how much all of him weighed. You know a man is big when you can see muscles flexing under some ugly ass green scrubs and a lab coat. Oh, what I’d pay to be that motherfucking lab coat!

  I must have made some sign of my lust. Hell, I might have moaned, I don’t know. But what I do know is that “Honey”—yeah, I named him “Honey.” How could I not, with all that golden tan skin and that thick sable hair and those electric brown eyes to accompany that voice? Anyway, Honey leaned in and sniffed the air just above my shoulder. He made a sound deep in the back of his throat that rumbled through the elevator like thunder. Lightning struck my clit, and I had to clinch my thighs together.

  I don’t know where I got the strength—maybe it was the fear of having my juices hit the floor like a bull pissing on a flat rock—but I ducked under his arms and darted out of the elevator. When he turned to look at me, I pushed him in his solid chest so that he stepped back into the car, and then I slammed the down arrow.

  He could have easily stepped out of the car before the doors closed, but he didn’t. He leaned against the back wall and looked me up and down with such passion I broke out in another sweat. The last thing I saw was him pressing his head back against the car and staring directly me. Massive arms crossed over his barrel chest, making the seams of that lab coat scream in agony. As the doors closed, the corner of his full mouth hitched up, and a dimple appeared. I nearly passed out.

  I stood for a moment, watching the numbers light up as the car descended.

  “Jonica Farran. You’re supposed to be springing me from this joint, not standing there like you’ve never seen an elevator before. Stop that right now. Someone will think you rode the short bus, and they won’t let me outta here.”

  Once again I let my head fall back on my shoulders. This time I was fighting tears. Mami has no shame in embarrassing me at every turn. I should have known she couldn’t just be at her deathbed and let me rush in like a normal distraught daughter.

  “Hey, while you’re standing there, you should call Rachel. I am not going home in that circus mobile she calls a car. How the hell am I supposed to fit all my fineness in that lil’ ole thing? Make sure she brings your truck, baby. That hunky Alias Deer said he would make sure to lift me up in the car if I wanted to. I told him he could be your new step-daddy, but from the look of the two of you, he may be my new son-in-law. He has a nice ass, huh, baby?”

  Mami pulled her head back into the room and left me standing in front of the elevator and the janitor. I couldn’t bring myself to lift my head and make eye contact as I did the ‘doomed to an ass whipping’ shuffle down the hall. I tried to pretend not to hear the laugher coming from the nurses’ station. A million comics out of work and my mom is cracking jokes. Some wheedling and a trip down to the nurses’ station later, I found out Mami wasn’t going home. In fact, the only place she was going was down stairs to the OR to have what she called “her plumbing” removed.

  ***

  Seventy-two hours later, I’d stopped at the office long enough to check in on things and have a word with the crew, letting them know how Mami was and that I was going to be taking several days off. I returned to the hospital, trusting everyone in the office to do their work and keep things running smoothly. Rachel would be in charge, and she would take care of business. Rachel had a secret power fetish, and running things was her favorite activity. If things got out of hand, Rachel would quickly go from social butterfly to tyrant.

  Now I was standing outside my mother’s hospital room, staring at the empty shell of a candy machine. I’d love to tell you it was empty before I got there, but the truth is between me, Rachel and Pablo we’d worn that sucker down. Mami was on a strict NPO, but that didn’t mean the rest of us had to starve. I looked at the last honey bun as it marched dutifully forward before shuddering to a stop as if it knew its fate was to end up mixed in with its snack machine cronies in the cavernous pit of my stomach. I was almost too tired to care that I’d just spent my last dollar in this hulking machine.

  I dropped my head and closed my eyes in defeat. Maybe I could hold out until they came down to wheel Mom into surgery. Pablo was talking about ordering pizza for us to eat in the waiting room. But hell, they were supposed to have moved her down to prep over four hours ago. Currently, there were no less than eight doctors in her room arguing over the feasibility of removing her ovaries. What I would’ve loved to know was why the hell they didn’t cut those suckers out when they did the hysterectomy all those years ago. Actually, what I really wanted to know was, why the fuck do hospital gowns not close in the damn back? That’s some bullshit, and trust me, with everything I have been through today, walking into my mom’s room and seeing her whole ass exposed

  has been the most traumatic. I added underwear and floor-length nightgowns to my list of things to pick up for Mom’s VIP visit.

  The aroma of mouthwatering food had me turning around to look for that source, hoping it was Pablo or Rachel back with some sustenance. What I found was that sexy doctor holding two greasy brown bags in one hand and a drink carrier in the other.

  “Thought you might be hungry,” he spoke.

  I was fighting a losing battle. I didn’t know if I wanted to jump Dr. Honey, or feed my rumbling stomach that could not be ignored. The greasy bags of burgers from the best joint in town made the decision for me.

  “I don’t know how you knew I loved this place, and I don’t care.” I took the bag from him, sat down on the nearest chair and dug in. There were four burgers in one bag and fries in the other. Taking out one grease-stained wrapped burger, I quickly unwrapped it and took a big bite, groaning in appreciation. “Well, don’t just stand there—I need something to drink.”

  Zeke chuckled as he approached and handed me one of the drinks. Sitting beside me, he
took a burger for himself and began to eat. We ate in silence, each of us polishing off two burgers apiece and the large order of fries. Then we simply sat back and relaxed against the uncomfortable plastic chairs, our bellies full and content.

  ***

  He had first heard of one Jonica Ferran Dominguez when he’d admitted her mother last week, after she’d come into the ER with stomach pains. Mrs. Lloydia Smythe-Dominquez

  was one fiery woman with a quick tongue and a sharp mind. He had never laughed so much during an examination. However, he was equally frustrated by her as well. She had made it known she had no intentions of having another surgery anytime soon. Apparently she had just broken up with her boyfriend, and she was planning on taking a singles cruise with, of all people, her ex-husband. She’d explained that they’d always been best friends, they just weren’t a good couple. She’d regaled him with story after story of their antics and the drama of raising their daughter. Actually, every time he’d spoken to her she’d made a sales pitch for how he’d make such a great son-in-law. “Jonica is such a demure young woman, she needs a big, strong, handsome man like you to look out for her in this world. Or, I mean, if you like ‘em older, I am on the market.”

  Zeke laughed now as he thought about how the older woman had unabashedly flirted with him and offered her daughter up as a replacement. But truth be told, he’d hoped to meet Jonica. Lloydia was by no means a bad-looking woman. She was the kind of lady who made a man look forward to his woman aging. Forget wine—she was like a hot pepper. Time only added to the fire.

  And then he had caught the first glimpse of Jonica at the elevator two days ago, and since then, he couldn’t get her out of her mind.

  She’d stared him in the eyes and then closed the elevator door on him. At first he was ticked off. More than that, he was really angry. He’d just gotten a call that Lloydia was checking herself out of the hospital, and was trying to get upstairs before the crazy woman actually made her escape.