Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Six

It bothered Lenny that he’d come in on a Tuesday—not his regular day—but as far as Ford was concerned, their contract had been voided and he could do whatever the hell he wanted. There was a certain kind of peace that came with knowing that in less than two months, there would never be a need to talk to or see Lenny again.

Lenny had huffed and puffed, strutting around the office, proclaiming how this past year had been their best yet and there was much to look forward to. Ford ignored him and tried to concentrate on his charts, but his thoughts centered on Nico and the meeting with his father.

If he hadn’t already decided to move to New York, the conversation with Nico would have tipped the scales. It hurt to see Nico, alone and in so much pain, be a thousand miles away, and him unable to do anything but offer words of advice. His lover needed him there, face-to-face, to encourage and help him through the emotional minefield of seeing his father, and the devastating wreckage left behind after that conversation.

He warred with wanting to be at Nico’s side and caring for his patients, who depended on him in a different way.

“Only a few short months, but God, so much to do in the interim.” He scrolled through his phone and the pictures of the two of them, along with Nico’s friends and family.

His phone buzzed with a text from Nico.

Told my mother about meeting Ray. She’s sorry but said it’s his loss not to have had me as a son.

Nico wasn’t alone. He wasn’t Ford, living life and getting by solely on grit, determination, and the drive to fit in. Nico had his place. It was alongside his mother, aunt, cousin, and best friends. He’d been loved and accepted since birth. Looking at the two of them, people would automatically assume Nico was after Ford’s life, when all along, it was Ford who envied what Nico had: love, family, and a home.

She’s right. And we’re the lucky ones to have you.

I’m lucky to have you.

With that weight off his chest, Ford signed and dated his last chart of the day, then hit the buzzer for the front desk. “Marisol, can you come here, please? Thanks.”

Time to have his own difficult conversation. Something had been bothering her all day, and he hoped Lenny hadn’t tried to poison her mind with his lies about the future.

“Yes, Doctor.”

A minute later a quiet knock sounded on his office door.

“Come in.”

Marisol appeared and couldn’t meet his eyes.

“Sit, please.”

Head bent, keeping her gaze firmly on the floor, Marisol perched on the edge of her seat.

“Marisol, what’s wrong? Have you heard rumors or people talking?” At her slight nod, he smiled. “Look at me.” She raised her head and met his eyes. “I’m sure you’re afraid of losing your job. Trust me, I’ve been heartsick about it.”

“So it is true?”

“Tell me what you’ve heard.”

She continued to fidget with her hands. “Dr. St. Claire. I-I feel so bad. Dr. Nova, he said you were leaving, and though he begged you to stay and keep the practice open, you refused.”

Typical Lenny, with his lies, half-truths, and innuendos. “It’s not that simple. The fact that Dr. Nova brought in Jose Diamond, who’d been impersonating a doctor, put us all at risk. I can no longer trust him to act in the best interests of this practice, and we’re dissolving the partnership.”

Her long lashes swept down. “I’m so sorry. I know I’m the one who caused all these problems—”

“No,” he interrupted her. “You saved us from a potential malpractice suit. Hopefully, there won’t still be one in the future. But don’t think for a second it’s your fault.” He sighed. “I’m just really sorry to lose you. If you want, I can give you references for some of the practices around here.”

“Thanks, Dr. St. Claire, but when I told my boyfriend what was happening, he said now’s the time to make a move.”

“Oh. What does that mean?”

“Remember I told you once, he has family in New York City? His cousin and uncle run a livery cab service, and they’ve offered him a piece of the business. Tomas said there are tons of medical-assistant jobs I can get, and they pay more than they do here.”

“So you’re leaving?”

She gave him a quick nod. “I’m sorry. This has been the best job I’ve ever had, and I don’t want to leave it or you. I wish we could wait until you find another practice here, but we can’t afford to be out of work.” Her smile was sweet. “We wanna get married and start a family. Tomas’s aunt has a hookup with the city and can get us a rent-controlled apartment.” She blotted her eyes with a tissue. “I should be excited, you know, but I still hate leaving.”

“I completely understand.” Truly happy for her, Ford couldn’t wait to let her in on his news. “But honestly, it sounds like a great plan. For both of us.”

“Huh?” Her face screwed up. “I don’t understand.”

“I went to New York this weekend—that’s why I didn’t come in yesterday. There was a terrible rainstorm the night before, and all the flights were canceled.”

“Oh.” Realization dawned in her expressive face. “Dr. Nova said…” Red spots appeared on her cheeks. “Forget it.”

Anger filtered through his joy at the news he was about to impart. “I’m sure whatever he said wasn’t flattering. But trust me because I’m telling you the truth. Yesterday I talked with a doctor I met when I went to the conference during the summer. He has a beautiful office and a high-quality practice. Marisol, he offered me a partnership, and I plan to tell him yes.”

Her mouth made an O, and her eyes grew comically wide. “You’re moving to New York too?”

“Yes.” He laughed. “And now that I hear you’ll be in the city, I want you to come work for me. Teamwork makes the dream work.”

“I can’t believe it,” she said in amazement. “This went from the worst to the best day. I’ll have everything I’ve ever wanted—my family together, Tomas, and working for you. Thank you, Dr. St. Claire. I’m so happy I could cry.”

“Don’t do that,” he joked. “I’ll fill you in on all the details so you’ll be ready. But my plan is to have this wrapped up by the end of the year, and move in the new year. Does that work for you?”

Her eyes shone. “Yes, yes it does. I can’t wait to go home and tell Tomas. Thank you.”

She hugged him, and he watched her almost run out of the office. Ford sat in his chair and laughed at himself. “Guess you’re really doing this.” Anticipation swirled inside him, and he made some notes concerning his apartment, his car lease, and licensing requirements for New York. Not that there would be any problem, but he needed to talk to Sandler, who said he knew many people on the licensing board and could smooth the way for his application.

“Well, well, look at you.” Lenny slouched in the doorway.

His guard up, Ford shut down his computer and tried to affect a bored, uninterested face. “What do you want? I’m getting ready to leave.”

“Had a nice weekend with your boy toy?” Lenny sneered.

“I’m not about to discuss my personal life with you.” He gathered his personal items from the drawer, hoping Lenny would get the hint and leave.

“You’re not serious about dissolving the practice, are you? Why would you shoot yourself in the foot? Our billings are way up, and we were just voted South Florida’s top dermatology practice. In five years we can retire.”

“I don’t want to spend five more minutes with you, never mind five years.” Time to lay it on the line. “I refuse to be tied to you any longer. I don’t need you anymore. I have a new life, and I’m ready to move on. Your stupidity could’ve cost me everything, including my license. There’s no need to keep up this farce of a partnership. Just let it go, Lenny. It’s time.”

He brushed past Lenny, who dogged his footsteps to the front. Only Adriana remained behind the desk.

“You think your bought-and-paid-for hottie is going to want to see you all the time? He’s got bigger fish in his pond—hedge-fund billionaires and Wall Street bigshots with fatter bank accounts and dicks than yours.”

Ford’s stomach turned in disgust, especially knowing Adriana heard Lenny’s crude language.

“Leave me alone, Lenny. Go find someone else to bring into the practice, and stop harassing me. It’s over.” Maybe he should tell Lenny the truth. “I’m leaving Florida and moving to New York. We won’t ever have to see each other again.”

“Moving? To be with him?”

“I can’t believe I was stupid enough to have once loved you.” He took out his car fob. “I feel sorry for you.”

“I cared,” Lenny called out after him. “In the beginning I loved you.”

Before walking through the door, Ford spun around. Lenny stood pale-faced, but Ford refused to allow one ounce of sympathy. “But you took what I gave you and abused it.”

He left, and in the safety of his car, gripped the steering wheel to keep from shaking. It wasn’t how he’d wanted it to end. Lenny had left him no choice. He started the engine, but his phone rang, and seeing it was Jim, Mr. Rosenstein’s aide, his stomach did a free fall.

“Hello?”

“Dr. St. Claire? It’s Jim. I’m sorry to have to tell you, but Mr. Rosenstein passed away this morning.”

Tears filled his eyes and spilled down his cheeks. “I’m so sorry. He was such a nice man. I meant to come to see him, but I was in New York this weekend.”

“He was in no shape for people to visit and had orders to allow no visitors except myself. But he went in his sleep, so there was no pain.”

“I’m glad for that at least. I appreciate you telling me. Thank you.” About to end the call, Jim stopped him.

“Wait, Dr. St. Claire. There’s something else. Mr. Rosenstein left me as the executor of his estate, and you are his beneficiary—well, you and me.”

A smile came to his lips. “That was very sweet of him, to leave me a token of thanks for taking care of him.”

Jim chuckled. “It’s more than a token. You weren’t aware, but Mr. Rosenstein was a very wealthy man. He lived very modestly because he didn’t believe in showing off. A result of his time spent in the camps, during the war.”

Ford had known about Mr. Rosenstein’s painful past, but he was surprised to hear the rest. In all the years he’d seen the elderly man, there had never been a hint of it.

Jim continued. “He would talk about his family after they came over from the war. How they lost everything and built up their business. Mr. Rosenstein’s family owned one of the largest spice companies in the United States.” He named the company, one that even Ford recognized, and he sat in the parking lot with his mouth hanging open like a fish.

“Are you serious?”

Jim laughed. “That was my response when I found out as well. And yes. Very. You know how Norman loved to tell stories. I just sat and listened because it was all fascinating to me. Like a history book. He didn’t like to talk about what happened over there. He spoke more about meeting his wife and their life together. She was a model for some very famous designers in the 1960s and ’70s.”

“I recall him showing me her picture. She was very beautiful,” Ford remarked, still shocked by what he was hearing.

“Mr. Rosenstein owns several commercial buildings here in Florida that house animal shelters he and his wife adopted their dogs from, and he left them the buildings, plus a substantial trust. He also owns an apartment in New York City.”

“Yes, I think he mentioned that to me recently.”

“There are stocks and bonds, as well. A lawyer from Erskine and Friedbaum will be calling you in the next few days. Obviously, I don’t know what’s in the will, but Mr. Rosenstein was insistent that it be handled as quickly as possible. He knew you were very busy and didn’t want to cause you to have to take time away from your work.”

“He was special, wasn’t he?”

“One of a kind. I’ll speak to you soon, Dr. St. Claire.”

“Thank you. Good night, Jim.”

Twilight had morphed into a night sky sprinkled with a thousand stars, and Ford sat staring out into the darkness. “What a sweet man. I’ll make sure to donate some of what he’s given me.” He started the car and drove home.

**

“I’m sorry, can you repeat that?”

Two weeks after Mr. Rosenstein’s death, Ford sat in the office of Toby Friedbaum, stunned by what the lawyer had read to him.

Friedbaum’s blue eyes crinkled as he laughed. “Yes, seven million dollars is a hard number to wrap your brain around, isn’t it? And that is exclusive of the apartment.”

A buzzing sounded in his ears. “I don’t know what to say…or think. Are you sure it all goes to me?”

“This isn’t all of it, Dr. St. Claire. Several charities have already received their portion, but it’s actually Norman’s aide, Jim, who received the bulk of the estate.”

“He deserves it. Jim was very good to Mr. Rosenstein.”

“As I hear you were. I won’t lie, we were a little concerned when Norman told us how he wanted his estate handled. We’ve known Jim for over twenty years, but for Norman to make such a large bequest to his doctor…” Ford met Friedbaum’s eyes and could see he knew about Lenny’s scandal.

“I never expected anything from him. He wanted to see me every three months, and I told him it wasn’t necessary, but I figured he was lonely. I didn’t send a bill because I knew his insurance wouldn’t cover such frequent visits.”

“Nice to see there are still good people in the world.” Friedbaum printed out some papers and slipped them in a folder, then handed it to Ford. “This is a list of everything Mr. Rosenstein left you, along with legal documents transferring ownership. Sign them, have them notarized by your attorney, and we can begin the process of getting the assets to you.”

Still reeling, Ford shook his hand, and clutching the folder, made his way to the car. He slipped the list out of the folder and read it.

“A one-bedroom apartment at 360 Central Park West. I’m guessing that’s a great location because it’s Central Park.” Ford scanned the rest, which was a confusing combination of money market accounts, trusts, bonds, and stocks. He checked his watch and figured he’d take a chance and see if Nico was at lunch.

“Hi, are you busy?”

“Nah. I’m on a lunch break.”

“You have your second interview tomorrow?”

“Yeah. I’ve been practicing from these questions I found on the Internet that they’ve asked potential hires in the past. It would be great to get my foot in the door of a huge company like that. The benefits would be amazing.”

His faster-than-usual speech signaled how nervous Nico was. He’d confessed it’d been like a kick in the stomach to be passed over for the management training at his bus company, but personally, Ford thought the job he was interviewing for was a much better fit for his goals.

“You’ll kill it. And I have some news.”

“Oh, yeah? Is it about that meeting with the lawyers? Sad about that man. I’ll say a prayer for him.”

Ford smiled to himself. Nico was such a mix of sensuality and sweetness. “It is. He left me…a lot.”

“What’s that mean?” Nico’s voice dropped. “Like a hundred grand or somethin’?” Ford bit his lip and hit the screen for a FaceTime. He needed to see Nico’s expression. He was in a coffee shop, wearing a blue-and-black scarf wrapped around his neck. His hair fell over his brow, and he pushed it away to peer at Ford. “Whoa, you’re sitting in your car.” His eyes narrowed. “What’s going on? How much did he leave you?”

Ford grinned. “Seven million dollars, plus an apartment on Central Park West, which I’m assuming is a great area.”

Nico’s jaw dropped. “Get the fuck outta here. You lie.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“That’s dollars? Like US money?”

“It’s not Monopoly money, baby. I’m still shaking. We aren’t ever going to have to worry about money again.”

“I-I can’t believe this. Now you won’t haveta take out a loan to buy your practice.”

“I know. And something else, equally important.” Completely serious, he fixed Nico with an intent stare. “I want you to go back to school and get that master’s degree.”

As he spoke, Nico started shaking his head. “No. I’m not gonna take your money. No way.”

“You’re still worried what people will think, aren’t you?” Ford’s heart ached for Nico. “You’re afraid people will assume you’re with me for the money. Who cares, Nico? We know the truth.”

“’Cause I’m not gonna be what people like Ray Gargano think I am. He assumed I was gonna hit him up for cash. Funny, isn’t it, that money was the first thing in his head but the last thing in mine.”

That bastard. The damage he caused Nico from that one meeting would be a scar on his heart for a long time. Ford vowed to make sure to love Nico harder than his father could ever hurt him.

“We’ll talk about it.”

“Where’s that apartment? I can look it up.”

Ford repeated the address.

“Marone a mia,” Nico breathed, and Ford grinned. He loved hearing Nico speak Italian. “It’s right on the park. Fucking hell. Even a one-bedroom is worth a ton.” He continued to shake his head. “I don’t fucking believe it.”

“Well, you’d better. It’s going to be ours.”

Nico blinked and gaped at him. “Ours? You mean…you wanna live there?”

“Uh, hello. Earth to Nico. I’m moving to the city, as you call it, in a few weeks. Now we have a place to live.”

“But a place like this? All these rich people live there.”

“We’re rich, Nico,” he said gently. “Even without this money, we have it all because we have love. And that’s what matters.”