Joy Avery - In The Market For Love

“Thank you, sweetheart. You’re a jewel. No one with good sense would let you slip away.”

Alonso breathed a sigh of relief when Hamilton didn’t look in his direction. The man had embarrassed him enough for one day. Before the nurse made it out of the room, Alonso was out of his chair. He owed her an apology.

“Excuse me.” She stopped, but didn’t turn to face him. “I’m sorry I didn’t catch your name—”

She swiveled to face him. “Busy.”

The temperature in the room dropped about twenty degrees. Obviously she still held a slight grudge.

Her gaze drifted past him momentarily to Hamilton. “He’s going to be okay.”

A blink later, she was gone. But only from the room, because the spirited nurse still lingered in Alonso’s thoughts.

Chapter 3

Vivian cracked her window to get some fresh air. It was all she could do to keep her eyes open. The ER had been busier than she’d experienced in months. Definitely not typical for a Tuesday.

A shift that should have ended at seven in the morning hadn’t ended until ten. Then she’d had to rush home, change clothes and dart across town. If she’d had any sense at all, she would have canceled the appointment with Mr. Wright.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t canceled on her a week ago, citing a family emergency. Yeah, right. He’d probably flown off to some exotic island with his mistress. Obviously money wasn’t a problem since he seemed to like sending people unsolicited checks.

Men.

At the mention of men, her thoughts floated to one man in particular. The one she’d thought about for the past week. Hamilton’s...guardian, she guessed would be an appropriate term. She no longer thought of him as Tempered Chocolate. Tempered Chocolate suited a more delectable individual. His inexcusable attack on her was anything but appetizing.

“Did he really think he could tell me how to do a job I’ve performed for twelve years?”

The nerve of him.

A wave of frustration rippled through her. Oh, she’d wanted so badly to tear into him. Thankfully, her grandmother had taught her not to waste her words on people who didn’t deserve her attention. Then there was the small issue of needing her job.

She had to admit, overhearing—kinda eavesdropping on—the conversation he’d been having with Hamilton about getting off the street redeemed him a little. While he’d been an ass to her, he’d seemed to genuinely care about Hamilton.

How’d the two know each other? Judging by the tailored suit and expensive shoes, he didn’t strike her as someone who favored the homeless. Ugh. There you go judging people again. Her grandmother would have been disappointed.

A reel of her Nina—the name she’d dubbed her spirited grandmother—played in her head. “God, I miss you.”

She parked a little more than a block from her favorite Mexican restaurant, where she’d agreed to meet Alonso Wright. In and out, she reminded herself as she reached for the door handle of her Toyota Avalon, but not before double-checking to make sure she hadn’t forgotten the envelope containing the check from Wright Developing. Apparently, Mr. Wright assumed all the zeros would tempt her. Well, he was about to find out his money couldn’t buy everything.

As she strolled down Blount Street, Vivian was glad she’d worn the flat sandals. A good call. The one thing downtown Raleigh could really use more of was parking. She didn’t mind the trek, though. The temperature was a comfortable eighty-three degrees.

There were a hundred other things she could have been doing—namely sleeping—instead of wasting her time telling Mr. Wright the same thing she’d told him five times previously.

In and out.

Checking her watch, she saw she was twenty minutes early for the 11:45 meeting. The second she ambled into the restaurant, the delicious aroma of sizzling fajitas invaded her nostrils. Her stomach growled, reminding her she’d skipped breakfast...again.

By the number of meals she’d missed working in the ER, she should be no more than a hundred pounds. Not the hundred and forty-three she proudly flaunted.

“Hola, Vivian.”

At the sound of her name, Vivian turned to see Hector, the proprietor of Caliente Mexicana, approaching her. Hector was a little shy of five feet and round as a whiskey barrel. But what he lacked in appearance, he made up for in personality. Over the four years she’d been a patron there, she’d gotten to know the sixty-year-old well. “Hola, Hector. Cómo estás?”

“Muy bien. Y tu?”

“Muy agotado.” A look of distress spread across Hector’s face, and Vivian knew it was genuine concern.

“Why very exhausted?” he asked in accented English.

“Work.”

“I understand. I’ll put you in un rincón muy tranquilo,” he said, gesturing with his hands.

Any other day she would have welcomed a very quiet booth in the corner. “That’s thoughtful, Hector, but I’m meeting someone.”

“Ah. The hermoso gentleman.”

She wasn’t sure whether or not Mr. Wright was handsome, but Hector obviously thought so. “Gentleman, I hope. Handsome, I don’t know.” She lowered her voice. “I’ve never met him.”

“Ah. You will be pleased. I’ll take you to him.”

“Wait. He’s here already?”

“Sí.”

Guess she wasn’t the only one who liked being punctual.

Vivian smoothed a hand down the front of the sleeveless green-and-white maxi dress she wore, a sudden bout of nerves fluttering in her stomach. She inhaled a deep breath, then released it slowly. Why was she so uneasy? It wasn’t like this was a first date. Any kind of date, for that matter.

When her eyes landed on the man sitting alone at the secluded table, she froze. No freaking way. She didn’t believe in coincidences. Fate, yes. But not coincidences. And right now, her belief in fate was up for examination.

This had to be a mistake. There was no way on God’s green earth the jerk from the hospital and the Alonso Wright she was there to meet were one and the same.

Impossible.

After a quick scan of the area to see if maybe Hector had confused the two men, she had her answer. Her horoscope had said today she’d face new challenges. She certainly hadn’t prepared for this degree of complication.

This didn’t change anything. If anything, it made what she needed to do easier. The man had already rubbed her the wrong way once; she wouldn’t give him another opportunity.

Mr. Wright glanced up from his device and did what she labeled a triple take. Yep, he was baffled, too. God, he made mystified look so good.

Their eyes locked from across the room. To say she experienced a jolt of attraction would be putting it mildly. The man was gorgeous. Really gorgeous. Runway-model gorgeous. Too bad he was such an asshole.

She wanted to snatch her eyes away, but his dark gaze held her like a powerful magnet. When he stood, her breath caught in her throat. The suit clung to his body like fine art. Yes, she was captivated. And underdressed for the occasion, apparently. Her eyes weren’t the only set appreciating the human form. Her cheeks warmed under his scrutiny.

“Are you okay?”

Vivian shifted toward Hector, thankful he’d broken the spell. “Sí.” It was all she could do to force her feet to take her forward and not back. Luckily, they cooperated, placing her toe-to-toe with him, Tempered Chocolate, jerk from the hospital, Alonso Wright.

With a narrow-eyed gaze, he said, “Have...we met before?”

Apparently, his curiosity trumped a customary greeting. Had they met before? Really? So much for making a lasting first impression. In her defense, at the hospital she’d worn scrubs, her hair in a ponytail and no makeup.

“Actually, yes, we have. You rudely alluded to me being the worst nurse you’d ever encountered.”