Chapter Four

Chapter Four

“All done, Mr. Rosenstein, and I’ll send that mole that popped up last month for a biopsy.”

Ford helped the elderly man off the examination table as his assistant handed Mr. Rosenstein his shirt. His hands were shaky, yet he put the clothing on without help.

“Thank you, Doctor, for making the time for me. I feel so much better now that you’ve seen me.” He held Ford’s wrist tightly as Ford walked him to the waiting room. Normally he’d have his assistant do it, but Mr. Rosenstein was his first patient when he’d been a medical student and had stayed with him all these years, so Ford felt a little protective of the man, especially since he had no family. He and his wife had started out as snowbirds from New York City, and he’d moved to Florida permanently after she passed away. They had no children, and he now lived with his aide in a modest apartment in Sunrise. He came every three or four months for a skin-cancer checkup, though Ford had said once a year would be fine. Ford suspected it was more out of loneliness and a need to get out and talk to someone than a desire to be physically checked.

“Always, Mr. Rosenstein.”

“How are you doing? That one not giving you any trouble, is he?”

Ford’s lips twitched. Mr. Rosenstein had never liked Lenny—the one time Ford had been ill and Lenny’d taken over his patients, Mr. Rosenstein had confided that he thought Lenny was a schmuck.

“You can do much better. I know it’s not nice to say that, but I’m old. I’ve reached a point that I can say what I want.”

“No, we worked it all out, and I’m fine.”

Mr. Rosenstein gripped his arm tighter. “You’re young and good-looking and a doctor. Most of all, you’re a good person. A mensch. What more could anyone want? There’s someone for you. Like my Lillian used to say—a cover for every pot.”

“I’m fine. Really. Don’t worry about me. You take care of yourself. That’s most important to me.” He spotted the man’s aide waiting in the reception room. “Jim? Here he is. All good to go.”

Jim helped Mr. Rosenstein to the desk to check out, and Ford returned to his office to review the next patient’s chart. From his early morning review of the schedule, Ford anticipated a busy day—predominantly Botox and fillers, but those could be done in no time. He also had a Mohs surgery, rashes and a few nasty burns to treat, laser treatments, and chemical peels.

He preferred to keep busy. It kept his worries at bay—that he couldn’t do this, that he wasn’t good enough. He knew it wasn’t true, that he didn’t need Lenny to keep his end of the practice going. Their system of not being in the office at the same time worked well for now. Ford anticipated that eventually they would have a discussion concerning the dissolution of the practice, but the thought of more lawyers and endless meetings made his head spin. All he wanted to do was work.

His phone buzzed.

“Dr. St. Claire, Ms. Montrose is here.”

“Send her in.”

The first of his six purely cosmetic procedures of the day. He went to work.

**

Five hours later, he sank into his office chair with a groan. The door opened, and his assistant, Marisol, stuck her head in. “That’s it for the day, Dr. St. Claire. All you have left is a virtual appointment. It came in last night, and Susan forgot to put it on your list.” She rolled her eyes. “That one needs to start thinking less about her boyfriend and more about the job.”

Ford rolled his shoulders and managed a smile, which morphed into a yawn. “Mention it to Adriana. She’s the office manager.”

“I will. Anyway, the appointment isn’t for another twenty minutes.” She adjusted the cap she wore over her curls. “I have it on your portal.”

“Thanks, you’re the best.”

“I know.” She grinned and waved. “I’ll see you on Wednesday.”

“Have a good one.”

He and Lenny split the practice by days—Ford came in Monday, Wednesday, and in the afternoon on Fridays. Lenny was Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday mornings. Each had their own assistant, and when the scandal hit, the first thing Ford had done was gather Marisol and the rest of the staff to reassure them that even though their work hours had changed, their salaries would remain the same. It wasn’t their fault that the doctors’ personal lives had imploded.

Lenny was too busy doing damage control, giving interviews to the local news reporters. Being the face of the practice, he had a wonderful working relationship with the media, and somehow the spin was sympathetic to him.

Ford rubbed his eyes and scanned the virtual appointment as he sipped his coffee. “What the…” It couldn’t be.

Nico Andretti? Was that his last name? Ford frantically replayed their conversation but didn’t recall Nico mentioning his last name. The age seemed right—twenty-eight—and Ford winced. He was fourteen years older than Nico, and he’d never felt his age more than that night at Stonewall together. Nico was so at home with the crowd and didn’t appear to mind the public kissing and touching.

The computer dinged, signaling someone had entered the waiting room for the virtual meeting. Glancing at the time, Ford saw he still had two minutes to spare. He jumped up from his chair to gaze in the mirror and straightened his tie. A quick comb-through of his hair, a spritz of hydration to his face, and he was as ready as he could be.

Maybe it won’t be him. And why does it matter? He’s 1100 miles away.

Still, his heart thumped like a drum when he clicked the link. The computer blurred, then cleared. And there he was on the split screen, as gorgeous and sexy as Ford remembered.

“Hey, Doc.” Nico grinned and waved. “How’s it goin’?”

“So it is you. I saw the name, but I wasn’t sure.”

“It’s me. In the flesh.” He winked. “So to speak.”

“How have you been?” Ford drank in Nico’s face, his beautiful aqua-blue eyes and soft lips. “You’re looking well.”

“Aside from it bein’ hot as hell, I’m fine.”

“Trust me, you don’t know hot in the summer until you’ve been to South Florida.”

“Is that an invitation? I can check my vacation time. I haven’t been to the beach yet.” Nico flexed his biceps, and Ford had to pinch himself to keep from drooling at the muscles bunching under all that tanned skin. This appointment was getting out of hand, and Ford took a deep, steadying breath and got them back on track.

“Do you have a question about a skin problem?” He scanned the intake sheet Nico had filled out. “There’s not much information here.”

“Well,” Nico demurred, tapping his perfect cheekbones, “you say you give lifestyle coaching, right? That skin is the body’s biggest organ and needs to be kept in tip-top shape. So I was interested in that.”

“You want me to be your lifestyle coach?”

God, that might be the death of me.

“Yeah, what do you say?” Nico’s eyes sparkled, reminding Ford of the waters off the shores of Turks and Caicos. “You can give me tips on looking young.”

“You are young.” Ford sighed, not without regret. “But the first thing is what I already mentioned. Stay out of the sun. You look tanner than the last time.”

“Mmm, yeah. I spent the weekend in the backyard. But I think I got a sunburn. Can I show you?”

Ford’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t see anything on your face. Your nose isn’t red or peeling.”

Nico rose to his feet, and Ford almost swallowed his tongue. All Nico wore was a pair of boxers that did nothing to hide the outline of his thick cock. And, dear God, he pulled down the waistband to reveal the neatly trimmed edge of his pubic hair. Saliva pooled in Ford’s mouth, and his breaths came short.

“No, but see? Right there?” His fingers trailed along the edge of the wiry hair before resting on the jut of his hip bone, where it was, in fact, red and angry-looking. “I think I missed a spot with the sunscreen.”

Ford’s hungry gaze devoured Nico’s half-naked body. Washboard abs with a sprinkling of dark hair. Powerful, muscular thighs. A rapidly stiffening dick that bulged through the thin boxers. Ford couldn’t tear his eyes away. Christ, he was hard in his office. He had to stop this. Now. This was the kind of desire he’d heard of and never imagined he’d experience, yet here he sat in his office, barely able to breathe, feeling as though struck by lightning.

“You can sit. I’ve seen enough,” he barked out, and Nico raised his brows at the sharp tone. “Sorry,” he apologized.

“S’okay. Long day?”

Relieved that Nico had listened and was once again hidden, Ford redirected the conversation to the reason they were talking in the first place.

“They’re all long. As for that burn, have you put anything on it?”

Nico’s brows drew together. “Nah, I just got it today. I had a half day of tours and some time until I had to go help at the restaurant, so I laid out in the backyard.”

“What SPF do you use?”

“I dunno, fifteen, maybe?”

Ford grimaced. “That’s nothing. You should use at least forty-five. Now, for that burn, put some aloe-vera gel on it. That’ll hydrate it, but unfortunately, the damage is done. When it gets less red, use some vitamin E oil and massage it in every day. That will help minimize scarring. It’s why I stress good care from the beginning.”

Nico nodded. “Okay. Guess I shoulda covered up the jewels better. I’ve been using a washcloth.”

“That’s not large enough. You need to use at least a hand towel.”

Nico’s lips kicked up in a wicked grin. “Thanks for noticing, Doc.”

Ford could feel his face heat. “Uh, well, anyway. What else would you like to discuss? About your skin and keeping healthy, that is,” he added hastily.

Nico scrunched up his face in thought. Damn, he was adorable.

“Well…I know water is important. How much should I be drinking?”

“You do know that you can get all this information online. Do you really want to pay for a coach?”

Nico propped his chin in his hand. “You got me, Doc. Fact is, I was watchin’ the game the other night and saw a commercial for those fillers and shit, and it reminded me of you.”

A thrill ran through him, and despite himself, he had to ask. “You thought of me?”

All trace of humor faded from Nico’s face. His gaze turned dark and sensual, and he ran the tip of his tongue over his lips. “Yeah. You were kinda out of it when I left you, and I hoped you made your flight okay.”

Ford flinched and cast his eyes downward. “Oh, yeah, that wasn’t my finest hour. I guess you figured out I’m not much of a drinker.”

“That’s for sure,” Nico teased.

Nico wasn’t being mean. That was simply part of his brash, in-your-face type of humor, something Ford had rarely experienced, except with patients who’d relocated from up north.

“Well, I should thank you again for being so nice. I was pretty embarrassed.”

“Why?” Nico sounded genuinely surprised. “Happens to the best of us. Everyone needs to let go sometimes.”

Let go? If Ford let go, he’d crash to the ground, ending up in a million pieces of heartache.

He shrugged. “I was a stranger. You didn’t have to be nice.”

“I’m a nice guy, didn’t you know?” Nico returned to that flirty teasing that made him so damn enticing, Ford could talk to him for hours. But he had to stop.

“So to finish up, you need to make sure you drink enough water—what’s your body weight?”

“Two hundred, give or take.” He ran a hand over his flat stomach, and Ford followed his movement. “I don’t like to bulk up, but wanna make sure I stay in shape. I think it’s working, don’t you, Doc?”

Ford blinked. “Yes,” he replied faintly. “It’s definitely working.” He licked his lips. “Uh, so at two hundred pounds, you should be drinking about one hundred ounces of water.”

Nico’s big eyes grew comically wide. “A hundred? That’s nuts. If I did that, I’d be running off the bus to pee all day.”

“You can do it in the morning when you wake up and then at night.”

But Nico didn’t look convinced. “I dunno. I’ll have to see.”

Ford’s office line buzzed. “Hold on a second.” He pushed the intercom button. “Yes, Adriana?”

“Dr. St. Claire, Dr. Nova is here. He’d like to speak to you.”

His stomach tightened. “Here? In the office?”

“Yes, Doctor.”

What the hell was Lenny doing at the office? It wasn’t his day. “Tell him I’m on a virtual appointment. I can speak to him later.”

“I told him. He said he’ll wait.”

Ford clenched his teeth so hard, his jaw ached. “I’ll be there shortly.” He ended the call and returned to Nico, who’d obviously heard everything. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have taken the call in the middle of your appointment. I was just afraid it could be an emergency.”

“That your ex?” Nico asked, ignoring his apology and clearly more interested in his conversation.

“What? How…how did you know?” Had Nico read the papers? He’d mentioned a Google search. The Internet was forever, and Ford knew he could run but not hide from Lenny’s dirty escapades, which would follow him to his grave.

“You mentioned you work together.”

“Oh. Yes, it was him. Well, it was nice talking to you, Nico. Please make sure to put aloe on that burn and use a higher sun protection factor the next time you’re outside. Just because you have more melanin in your skin doesn’t mean it can’t suffer lasting damage.”

“I will, Doc. Thanks. I’ll talk to ya.”

Ford doubted it. As nice as it had been to escape for the past hour, there was little reason for Nico to call him again.

“Bye.”

He turned off the computer and took a few deep breaths, practicing the calm his yoga instructor had taught him. He’d need every arrow in his measly quiver to go up against Lenny.

Upon exiting his office, he heard Lenny’s voice, and tension immediately swirled in his gut.

I will not let him get the best of me.

“Adriana, when is he—never mind, there he is. Ford, come with me,” Lenny ordered, but Ford stayed put.

“No. You came to see me. We can go to my office.” He turned on his heel and marched back behind his desk. “Sit.”

Lenny, of course, remained standing and crossed his arms. “I wanted to talk to you about the office.”

“What about it?”

Was he going to walk away, leaving him with full ownership? Ford had neither the capital nor the desire to run the practice on his own.

“I want to bring in someone to handle the cosmetic stuff. We’re getting too busy with the Botox and fillers for two doctors, and the practice can’t handle all the patients.”

While Lenny’s reasoning was sound, something didn’t seem right, but Ford couldn’t put his finger on what it might be.

“I don’t want another partner.”

“Not a partner. This would be an employee.” Lenny met his gaze without any guile, but still, Ford found it hard to trust him.

“And you have someone in mind.”

“As a matter of fact, I do. Dr. Jose Diamond. He’s excellent at what he does.”

Derision curled his lips. “I’ll bet. Did you check his medical qualifications, or was the blowjob he gave you enough to pass the interview?”

Lenny didn’t even seem embarrassed. “Your jealousy is showing, babe.”

“Jealous? Of who, you?” he sputtered. “That’s a joke.”

“Of course you are. I’m out every night, having fun, and you’re home alone in your prison in the sky.”

“If sex with people you’ll never see again and having people talk behind your back means success, then yeah, you’re winning,” Ford sneered. “I loved you, and none of it mattered. Twenty years, and you can dismiss it like it was a blip. Like it was nothing.”

How did this happen to them? There was a time when Lenny had been his world, his everything. He’d given Lenny his love, his heart, only to have it tossed aside like day-old news.

“I’m not interested in hearing how much you miss me. Jose is top in the field. He’ll get a percentage of what he works on, and we take the rest. Win-win.”

Damn him.Even at his strongest, Ford was no match for Lenny’s confidence and arrogance. From the beginning it had been like that—Lenny, the rich guy from Coral Gables, and Ford, the scholarship student from the “bad” part of town. Lenny would laugh and tease him, calling Ford his “walk on the wild side.”

Ford had been completely dazzled by the life Lenny introduced him to, falling under the spell of the beautiful people, elegant parties, and expensive clothes. Lenny swept him away to a life he’d only watched on television.

Until it all ended abruptly mid-series, his life canceled without warning.

Ford gritted his teeth. “I don’t miss you. Trust me. What percentage were you thinking?”

“Forty percent for him. We take sixty.”

It wasn’t a bad business decision. The cosmetic treatments were nothing more than busy work, taking up more and more of the practice’s time. The extra income notwithstanding, Ford much preferred to work on people who had true problems with their skin.

“Fine. Get the contract to my lawyer.”

A big smile broke out over Lenny’s face. “Perfect.” He checked his Rolex. “Oops. Gotta run. I’ve got a dinner date in Miami, and the traffic on 95 is a killer.”

And like a whirlwind, he was gone.

Ford slumped in his chair. How was it possible that Lenny was the wrongdoer and yet he wound up on top? Even a sex scandal rolled off his back. The man truly was Teflon.

He stared dispassionately at the computer screen, reading the notifications that had popped up during his virtual appointment with Nico and his talk with Lenny.

Send follow-up to Nico Andretti, re: appointment

With regret, Ford deleted it. Much as he enjoyed talking to Nico, there was little reason to continue with him.

Haircut appointment at 10 a.m. Manicure 11:30 a.m. Facial at 3:00 p.m.

Ford confirmed all three.

The American Academy of Dermatology’s annual meeting is next month, and there’s still time to register. Join us for three fabulous days in New York City!

It used to be that Lenny went to all the conferences, and now Ford understood why. The parties and networking, and then Lenny would come home, insatiable for sex, demanding new positions, using toys he’d picked up that would leave Ford blushing.

“Let’s try it this way, baby,” he’d whisper, and Ford had taken it as a sign of how much Lenny had missed him. Only now he realized Lenny was merely continuing what he’d started while away.

“Maybe it’s time for me to see what’s out there.”

Ford clicked the link for the conference information and began to read.