16. April

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

april

How dare he? What a disrespectful, condescending, patronizing bastard! Urgh. I pace around my office after I asked directions from about five different people to get here. By the time Dom walks in, I must've burnt a trail across the carpet.

"What an asshole," I scream as a poor welcome to my colleague.

"Yes, he kind of is." That's comforting. Makes me feel a little bit better that it's not just me that thinks so. I can't pretend I don't have a biased opinion of the man, can I? So having Dom saying it too helps me feel saner, more entitled to my wrath. I'm fuming, burning hotter than the fire in hell, wondering how the Liam I met yesterday is the same one I just left behind in that stupid meeting. The difference is so stark, I wouldn't discard the possibility of a multiple personality disorder.

"So, what do you want to do?" Dom asks.

"Choke Liam Gunn to death. No last words for him."

"Okaaaay…" He smiles and watches me pace some more. "Do you have a plan B?"

"Not really. Could you be a dear and do it for me?" I make my best attempt at puppy eyes, but he just laughs and plops himself down on one of my couches, patting the space next to him for me to sit down too.

"Fuck him," Dom says, and I think to myself, Done that. Multiple times.

I bite into my bottom lip to suppress the naughty smile that wants to come out to play. Stop it, April. The man is a jerk.

I sit on the couch opposite Dom, instead of next to him. I'd probably accept a hug from Calista or Preston right now, but that's about it.

Dominique watches me as I get lost in my thoughts. He's every bit as French as his name. Wavy brown hair disheveled to perfection. Tall and lean, with blue eyes, a big and thin bony nose that might look ugly on any other man but him. The accent just makes him even more attractive.

He's the best physiotherapist I've worked with, doing groundbreaking work in athletes' recoveries and I'm lucky to have him here. We had a fling a few years ago, back when I was an intern. It was just fun, on call, harmless, good sex—and that pretty much sums up all my ‘relationships'—but it ran its course and we're just friends now. It's not weird or anything.

"Okay, if you're not willing to commit murder to make my life easier, we'll just have to fall back onto medicine and do our jobs. Like we said we would when Li— Mr Gunn wasn't paying attention."

I get up and turn on my laptop to check my emails. I sit in the comfiest office chair ever and almost purr as I sink further into it while I rub its leather arms. As my screen comes to life, I see dozens of messages from Callie threatening to go to MI5 with Liam's Tinder profile.

I smile as I read her theories about me being abducted then chopped to pieces and her threats that if I don't call her back immediately, she'll have the Scotland Yard searching for my limbs in the Thames. I write her back to let her know that I'm alive, all members attached, but still phoneless, and will update her on everything as soon as I can.

What ever happened to the Liam from the app that she chatted with? Was he at the restaurant last night? What are the odds of this happening? I start calculating it for fun when the phone from my desk starts ringing.

"What happened, April? We've been calling non-stop since yesterday."

"Hi, Daaaaaad." Dom scrunches his face in question from the couch. "It's Preston," I mouth and he cracks a laugh. "I went out to dinner last night and left my cell in the Uber. I'm hoping they can locate it and bring it back to me. If they don't, I'll get a new phone tomorrow." I cross my fingers and cling to hope as I say it.

"I was about to email you with a report on today's meeting with the board. It went fine apart from the club's owner being a dick and demanding a date for when Max will be back on the field. I didn't give him one. More to follow on that. But I need to talk to you about something else."

I cover the phone with my hand and ask if Dom could give me a minute.

Laid-back Dom rises from my couch with ease and a sincere smile. "Of course. Come get me when you're done. And send Dr. Jett my best."

I'm alone in my office, but I still turn my back to the door and face the wall, hiding in shame while whispering to Preston my confession. "Okay, hear me out. Not my fault, but something bad happened."

"April, what are you talking about? Are you okay? What happened?"

Uh, bad choice of words. I can hear the despair spiking with each word out of his mouth.

"I'm fine. Just grand. It's not like that."

"What is then? Is Max okay? Is it his knee?"

Talk about catastrophization. Now I'm just going to sound silly. "What? Yes. Max is fine. Knee is great."

I hear him huff from the other side of the line, growing impatient. I really need to work on my openings, don't I?

"Then what? What the hell happened?" He's borderline shouting now.

I pause, inhale, exhale, then spit it all out, talking way, way too fast. "Here goes nothing. I slept with the club's owner last night. By accident. Well, he didn't accidentally slip his…" I stop before I embarrass myself or scar Pres for life. "What I mean is, I slept with him without knowing he was the owner, of course. Of course I didn't know. We didn't discuss work. He didn't know who I was, either. God, that really makes me sound like a hooker, doesn't it?" I make the split decision not to tell Pres that Liam thought I was a prostitute. Damn it, this conversation needed a script. I'm way too nervous to be objective.

"I blame it on tequila. And Callie. Well, Callie didn't know who he was either. To be fair, she picked a different Liam. I'm getting off course. We just found out who each other was today, at the stadium, when he was a total dick. Did I tell you he was a dick? Such a dick!"

"And why do I need to know this?" I can sense his discomfort from across the Atlantic.

"Preston, did I break any non fraternization rules? Did I sleep with my boss? Will they cancel my contract? Am I going to be fired?"

"Hey, stop. Stop. So what, you slept with Liam Gunn?" He sounds pretty unimpressed and I feel a bit offended that he's not approaching this matter with the gravity it deserves.

"Because he's the club owner. Hence, my boss." I try to sound as nonchalant as he does. I don't think I pull it off, though.

" I'm your boss."

"While I'm here?" That gives him pause.

"Goddammit, April. Where's your contract?" Yes! Finally, he's worried too.

"I don't know. It all happened so fast. I don't think I have a digital copy of it."

"I'll get one for you."

"Thanks."

"I'm guessing regardless of who he is, this was a one-time thing?"

Ha. My fame precedes me. "Absolutely. Did you hear me saying he was a dick today? I'm not touching his dick again."

Pres fakes a barf, making me laugh and decompress some more. "A, please. Don't say things like that. If this was just another one-night stand…"

"Absolutely."

"Okay, so if neither of you have a problem working together, and you won't work that close, anyway, I don't think we have anything to worry about."

"I hope so." I lie, not so sure we won't have a problem working together. But that's because he's a dick, not because of what I've done with his dick.

"Okay, now if you're done scaring the shit out of me, send me a report of today's meeting."

I love how we can switch from personal to professional without a glitch. "Will do."

"In the meantime, I'll send you the list of Chelsea's board of directors, managers, etc., so you don't sleep with any of them by accident. " He cracks up laughing, and I can't suppress the smile that breaks free. Preston's jokes are so bad, I pity-laugh at them.

"Shut up, stupid."

"Bye, baby girl. Gotta go. Take care. Love you."

"Same. Bye."

It never ceases to amaze me how easy it is for Pres and Callie to say ‘I love you' to me. The furthest I've come to is saying ‘ same', but luckily they know what it means. Even when they don't say it first. They know what ‘ same' means coming from me.

It took me by surprise the first time I heard Preston say it. It was after a long and exhausting shift where we didn't make any progress on a patient we were fighting the clock against amputating both his legs. I was so tired, my mouth didn't filter what went through my brain and my answer to Preston's first "I love you" was "Why?"

Guess he was just as tired because he simply laughed in reply. This sincere, loud, heartfelt laugh. Jett is a very serious man at work and that's what made me connect with him at first. But he has the biggest heart I've ever seen and is the kindest, most nurturing human being I've ever crossed paths with.

He wrapped his arm around me as we walked across the parking lot and kissed the top of my head like he always does before saying goodbye. Then he promised, either to me or the universe, as we were both staring forward, "I'll try to fix you, A." Took me a hot minute to understand he was not mumbling a "Coldplay" song.