Catching Lucas Riley (7 page)

“Well . . . I . . . you said . . . ,” Alex trailed off. It did seem rather obvious now that he said it. “I was
nervous
, okay? I wasn’t meant for this cloak-and-dagger stuff. I’m of the straightforward school of thought.”

“Clearly,” Sealey retorted. “Because what’s more straightforward than crashing headfirst through a tuna fish display?”

“I didn’t go headfirst,” Alex said, sighing. “But point taken. It was a disaster. I know. Let’s just move on and start planning for the next one so I don’t have a repeat occurrence.”

“I almost hesitate to encourage a ‘next one,’ ” Sealey said scornfully. “If you can cause such havoc in a grocery store, I shudder to think what kind of damage you can instigate at a nice restaurant.”

“As long as you just stick me in a place where he sees me and gets to decide whether or not to approach, all will be well,” Alex insisted. “It’s when you try to make me into a big game hunter that things go south in a hurry. You know I have no gift for subtlety.”

“And how,” Sealey muttered. “All right, fine. We’ll make you the hunted instead of the hunter this time around.”

“Many thanks,” Alex said sarcastically. “So where am I going?”

“We made a schedule,” Sealey reminded her. “Have you lost it already?”

“I don’t think you gave me a copy,” she responded, crossing her fingers. In truth, she knew he had given her a copy, but she had no idea where it had disappeared to. She had spent the better part of a half hour earlier that day looking through the thick folder Sealey had provided, containing Lucas’s class schedule, campus walking routes, jogging routes, the USU football practice times and locations, as well has his favorite stopping places for fast food, groceries, and athletic wear.

“Oh,” Sealey said, not bothering to question her. She sighed in relief. “Well, this next one is the day after tomorrow at the Elements restaurant. He’s taking a client, so there’s a chance he won’t even notice you. Regardless, he won’t approach you, because he’ll have his attention focused on the client. Just be prepared to smile prettily at him. Maybe give him a careless sort of wave.”

“Am I supposed to be alone or should I take someone with me?” Alex asked.

“Hmmm,” Sealey considered. “Well, there are pros and cons to
each one. You could take one of your roommates, but you run the risk of him liking what he sees a little too much and going for her instead of you.”

Alex grimaced into the phone. The thought of watching Lucas date one of her roommates instead of her was torture. And some of them would gladly do it—roommate loyalties could only stretch so far.

“But if you take a guy, you also run the risk of him thinking you’re already with someone and not bothering to pursue you,” Sealey continued. “I say, let’s just keep things simple and have you go alone.”

“But me eating alone at a nice restaurant like that?” Alex wailed. “I’ll look like a total loser! No self-respecting girl goes to a sit-down restaurant
by herself
!”

“Huh. Not a big fan of feminism, are you, Foamer?” Sealey murmured, and she could just picture him rolling his eyes. “All right, let’s do it this way. Just go and sit in the front area of the restaurant like you’re waiting for someone. When he walks in and sees you, smile and wave. He’ll likely do the same. Once he’s been seated with his party, act like you’ve gotten a text from your potential dining partner canceling the meeting, and then get up and walk out. Easy.”

It certainly didn’t sound too complicated. Compared to her last assignment, this was positively painless.

“Okay, I can do that,” Alex claimed confidently.

“Good,” he replied. “Feel free to dress up a little. Look like you’re trying on this one.”

“Got it.”

“And Foamer?”

“Yes?” she said hesitantly.

“Let’s avoid a fish collision this time.”

“Right.”

“A
LEX? ALEX!” THE
stressed
accent on the other side of the door began at the same time as the frantic knocks. “Alex, are you in there?”

Alex sighed as she heard the familiar voice. Her most faithful patient was back. Again.

Eric Swithin was a British transplant who had lost his wife in childbirth two years before. He was helpless and hopeless to care for his young son without heaps of advice and support—which Alex felt duty-bound to provide.

She had been a brand-new dietitian at the hospital the first time she had met Eric. He was sitting with his head in his hands in the hospital waiting room, having just heard of his wife’s death due to hemorrhaging after a difficult delivery. Alex had watched him, his eyes pressed into his clenched fists, his back convulsing with the force of his sobs. Her heart had positively ached for him. It was the memory of that scene that inspired her to keep seeing Eric and his son, Martin, despite the fact that he wasn’t technically supposed to be on her radar anymore.

“Hi, Eric,” Alex said as she swung open her office door. “How are you today?” She tried not to notice his panicked expression as she reached out a hand to stroke Martin’s pudgy little cheek as he sat in his father’s arms. Eric was a classic overreactor and Alex had learned long ago that the best method for dealing with his unjustified panic attacks was to
remain calm at all times.“Hi, Martin!” she said in a cheery voice. “Wow, what a great shirt! Red is really your color, you know that?”

Martin smiled cheerily up at her, raising his hands for her to hold him. She pulled him from his father’s embrace and turned to face the look of terror on Eric’s face.

“So what’s up?” she asked, stubbornly retaining her cheerful tone.

“He won’t eat! He just won’t eat!” Eric wailed. “I don’t know what to do! He’s got to eat! He’ll die if he doesn’t.”

Alex fought an eye roll with effort. “Eric, all toddlers resist eating sometimes. Trust me, when he gets hungry enough, he will eat.”

“So I’m just supposed to let him
starve
?” Eric looked scandalized. This time Alex let the eye roll continue onto her face unobstructed.

“No, Eric. Didn’t you hear what I just said?” Alex rubbed her forehead with her fingers, feeling a headache coming on. “He’s a toddler. He’s ruled by his needs. He won’t let himself starve. Just keep offering him food at mealtimes. He’ll resist only until it becomes uncomfortable for him, and then he’ll eat again.”

“But what if he gets hungry right after a mealtime?” Eric said, his face still showcasing his fear. “Then he’ll have to wait for the next one? What if it’s too much? What if it weakens him?”

Alex sighed. “If he gets hungry between meals, trust me, he’ll let you know.”

“I can’t do this,” Eric said, slumping against the wall. “I’m not cut out to be a single father. I should’ve put Martin up for adoption rather than kept him with me, motherless.” For some reason, the British accent made his hopelessness all the more heartrending.

Alex felt a pang of guilt for her lack of patience with the young father. He was doing his best, and having lost the most important person in his world already, it only made sense that he would be constantly worried about it happening again.

“Oh, come on, Eric,” she said bracingly. “You’re doing great! You’ve learned so much in the past couple of years! You don’t freak out nearly as much as you used to. I haven’t seen you for at least two weeks. See, that’s progress!”

And it was. For the first six months of Martin’s life, Eric had contacted her several times a day. He seemed to forget that she was not a
child development specialist, held no medical degree, and was thoroughly unqualified to assess his child’s sleeping patterns. At that point, Alex had spent much of her time trying to ferry him to other specialists, knowing that she couldn’t ethically advise him on anything other than Martin’s nutrition. But for some reason, Eric always came to her first. She figured it was because she was, more than anything, a listening ear for the lonely father.

“It’s just so hard when he doesn’t clearly communicate,” Eric despaired.

“You’ll find that’s common with two-year-olds.” Alex smiled down at Martin as he reached up to pull her hair. “Look, you have my number,” she said, glancing back up at Eric. “Martin appears to be in perfect health right now, but if you start to suspect that he’s weakening from hunger, all you have to do is pick up the phone and I’ll be there.”

She’d made several house calls before, to assess everything from a strong-smelling white residue that Eric had found on Martin’s lips (which turned out to be toothpaste) to the temperature of the baby’s formula. She was well-acquainted with Eric’s home.

“Couldn’t you maybe stop by tonight? Just to check in? Make sure he’s going on okay?” Eric pleaded.

“I can’t, Eric,” Alex said, handing Martin back to him. “I have an appointment at Elements tonight.”

“What time? Maybe you could pop in after?” Eric seemed truly concerned as he stared down at his son, as if expecting to see him waste away before his very eyes.

“I’m supposed to be there about six,” she answered. “Maybe if it goes more quickly than expected, I’ll stop over on my way home. Around six-thirty.
Maybe
,” she qualified. “But, Eric, I think I can safely promise you that Martin is in no danger of starving to death before bedtime.”

Eric looked at her beseechingly, as if willing her words into fruition. “He’s just so small. You’d think I’d be used to this by now, but I feel like every day brings me some new mystery or calamity.”

“I suspect most first-time parents feel that way,” Alex comforted him. “Hey, I have to go make my rounds. You going to be okay?”

“Yes,” he said hesitantly, looking down at his son. “I think so. I’ll
talk to you later. Keep your phone on!” He added the last plea over his shoulder at her as he walked away down the hall.

She nodded seriously at him before watching him turn the corner, her mouth lifting slightly at the corners.

Alex stared at herself in the full-length mirror. She wore a knee-length green skirt, fitted at the hips but light and flirty at the bottom, with a white fitted blouse and chunky green necklace. Her long, dark red hair was full and slightly curled, and her face accented with her favorite makeup. Her legs—long, lean, and tan—were bare, a stipulation made by Sealey, who claimed that her legs were one of her best assets. She still had a hard time imagining him even noticing things like that. She wore a pair of nude pumps, which pushed her height to over six feet. It was a good thing Lucas was several inches taller than her. Flat-footed, Alex was taller than most of the guys she knew.

“Wow,” Meredith whistled from her bed across the room, where she sat cross-legged. “You look fantastic. I don’t know how you manage to get so much volume in your hair. It’s like you’re a life-size, red-haired Barbie doll. Life is so unfair.”

“I may have volume, but my hair is really coarse. At least your hair is silky and shiny,” Alex countered, turning to take a look at her rear end in the green skirt. She felt like this particular fabric tended to accentuate areas of her anatomy she’d rather hide.

“In signature Asian style,” Meredith joked. She came from a family of Vietnamese immigrants, although she herself had been born in the United States. “So, are you ready? Have your script all prepared?” she asked with interest.

“No script this time,” Alex answered, still studying her derriere. She shrugged and moved away from the mirror. “Sealey says there’s no chance Lucas will speak to me, because he’s taking a client to dinner and it’s disrespectful to leave them standing there all alone to go and talk to someone else.”

“Ah,” Meredith replied, but she didn’t look convinced. “Maybe you should be prepared with a topic of conversation, just in case. You never know what will happen.”

“Sealey knows Lucas better than anyone,” Alex said. “And Lucas
will be there on business for Sealey’s company. I figure Sealey’s probably right.”

“I guess so,” Meredith said, biting her lip. “It’s so hard for me to think of Sealey as a big-time business owner. It’s really impressive. He’s super young to have his own company.”

“ ‘Big-time’ might be a bit of an overstatement.” Alex chuckled. “I don’t get the sense that Trident Advertising is all that imposing. Like Sealey said, Logan is a small market.”