Hollywood Scandal (8 page)

A grin took root and grew.

Wait, what did she mean the second kiss was for him?

…

Calla rushed into the clinic through the back door, fanning her face with one hand. Why did she have to answer him with the truth? Couldn’t she have come up with a lie that sounded better? He was going to think she was some kind of kissing fiend or something.

With kisses like his, she was.

She opened her office door and stepped inside, but came to a complete stop when she realized someone was waiting for her.

Jeff MacKay.

“Hello, Calla,” he said, coming to his feet, hands tucked into the pockets of his perfectly pressed pants.

Shock’s chill absorbed the balmy heat from her face, leaving her wallowing in cold discomfort. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to talk.” He gave her an easy grin and leaned back against her desk. “I think we got off on the wrong foot and thought it might be nice if we could start over.”

Holy shit this guy was slick. “How did you get into my office?”

“I walked in.” He made a show of glancing around. “Unless you’ve got a secret entrance I don’t know about.” Something about his smile seemed…off. It didn’t reach his eyes. Almost, but not quite.

Fear sent an arrow of panic through her system and she said carefully, “I’m afraid I can’t see you right now. You don’t have an appointment.”

“Are you sure? I know this really great café a few miles away that has the best coffee.”

“That’s kind of you, but I don’t drink coffee.”

“Hot chocolate, tea, they make it all.” He visibly relaxed another degree and cocked his head.

Curiosity warred with caution. The jerk thought he was going to get what he wanted. Unfortunately, she wasn’t sure what that was anymore. This could be an opportunity or it could be a disaster.

Disaster was more likely.

She might not be seeing patients today, but she still had other obligations that came before Jeff MacKay. “I appreciate your interest in opening positive communications with me. However, I have a pressing family situation that requires my immediate attention. Surely you have some respect for that.”

“I do, of course.” Smiling, he stood tall and strode toward her. She retreated to let him pass. “Too bad this spa doesn’t seem to have the same level of respect for their patient’s confidentiality.” He flashed his teeth in what should have looked like a grin. All she saw, however, was a threat.

“I left my card on your desk. Call me when you’re ready to talk.” He turned to go, but stopped at the last moment to say, “Nice flowers.” Then sauntered down the hall and disappeared into the public area of the spa.

Calla stood rooted to the floor for several seconds before she went into her office and closed the door.

Her hands were shaking.

“Damn it.”

The card addressed to Dr. Lazarus rested on her desk in clear view, and she hadn’t sealed it yet. MacKay wouldn’t have…no, reading someone else’s mail wasn’t just rude, it was wrong.

So was hit-and-run, yet he’d done it.

Collapsing into her chair, she held her head in her hands. She’d really like to start the day over again, and it wasn’t even ten o’clock in the morning.

The flashing red light on her phone told her she had messages. She picked up the handset and listened to them. Three were from various news outlets, one from a pharmaceutical salesperson, and another from Rafael. He told her his mother was in some pain and could she come by to see her since she wasn’t supposed to walk up and down the stairs?

Yes, something productive she could do. She called Rafael back and told him she’d be there shortly. Only one doctor in ten thousand did house calls anymore. She’d tell Selena she was going out to clear her head and no one would know otherwise.

She grabbed her custom first aid kit, some painkiller samples that she could give Alicia, and went to tell Selena. Calla took the card for Dr. Lazarus too. MacKay or not, she was going to thank the man who took the time to do something nice for her.

Getting out of this crazy place was the best idea she’d had all day.

Rafael was waiting for her at the curb by their apartment building, an open parking spot right next to him. “Thanks for coming so quick.”

He led her to the stairs and they climbed to his floor as he filled her in on his mother’s condition. The apartment was located near the stairwell and the inside of it was immaculately clean. Alicia was lying on the couch, crocheting.

Calla sighed in relief at seeing the woman. Who knew how comforting seeing a patient could be? “How are you today?”

“Fine, fine,” Rafael translated. “My hip hurts only a little.”

Calla might have believed her if her smile hadn’t been so brittle. “May I see?”

Alicia nodded and Calla pulled up her dress far enough to see the area around the hip. “There’s some pretty extensive bruising here. Has the pain gotten worse all of a sudden?”

“Last night, yes.”

“I think there might be a blood clot. They can cause a lot of pain. I’m going to need you to come back to the hospital.”

Alicia was already shaking her head no. “We don’t have the money.”

“It could be dangerous. Sometimes a clot like this one can cause a heart attack or stroke.”

“Isn’t there some medicine you could give her?” Rafael asked.

“She needs to be in a hospital or some other health care facility where she can be monitored all the time. This is very dangerous,” Calla said.

“Monitored?”

“Blood taken and checked.”

“Can’t you do it at the House?”

“I’ll have to check.” She pulled out her phone. “Give me a second.”

She made the call, and after explaining the urgency of the situation, was given the green light to bring Alicia to Helen’s House.

Rafael sat down to explain everything to his mother.

Alex was not going to be happy with her, but on the bright side, she could honestly claim she’d done nothing more than provide taxi service.

Chapter Nine

Alex had just hung up from a call with the American Medical Association when his private line rang.

“Mr. Hardy, this is Selena. You asked me to let you know if anyone bothered Dr. Roberts?”

“Who is it?”

“Jeff MacKay walked out of her office about twenty minutes ago. She left five or ten minutes after. She looked worried. The thing is, I don’t know how he got back there in the first place. He didn’t come through the front door.”

Son of a bitch.

“Thank you,” Alex said, keeping his voice calm. “I’ll check on her.” He ended the call and then phoned Calla’s cell.

“Hello.”

“It’s Alex.”

“What do you need?” Her voice was short and clipped.

She sounded busy. “Are you by any chance visiting one of your patients?”

“Why?”

So, she was. “You agreed not to practice.”

“I’m not,” she said, sounding as huffy as she would have if he’d accused her of murder.

“You’re visiting a patient, aren’t you?”

“Alicia has developed a clot near her incision site. I’m taking her to Helen’s House for a consultation with one of the
other
surgeons.”

“Calla, not practicing means not practicing.”

She made a frustrated noise. “I can’t do nothing. What if she has a stroke or a heart attack thanks to this clot?”

“I’m your lawyer. And I’m advising you to stop what you’re doing and either go home or go back to Seacliffe.”

“Whatever. I’m taking Alicia to Helen’s House. Is that going to be all right with you,
Dad
?”

“Calling me Dad sounds creepy and wrong.”

“Tough. Bye, Alex.” She hung up.

He stared at the phone for several long seconds before leaving his office to speak to his receptionist. “I’m going to Helen’s House. Not sure when I’m going to be back.”

That all depended on how angry he’d made Calla, and how much angrier she was about to get.

…

Calla shut off her phone and dropped it into her pocket. “Jerk.”

“Anything wrong?” Rafael asked.

“No, that was Alex. He worries too much. Can you find your cousins? I don’t want to alarm your mother, but she needs medical treatment as soon as possible.”

“The bruise is that bad?”

“It might be. Cousins?”

“Okay, I’ll hurry.” Rafael dashed out of the apartment. Alicia looked worried, but Calla could do little to reassure her.

It took Rafael a little while to locate enough of his relatives and send them to the apartment. The teens were preparing to carry Alicia, but there was a crash outside and Rafael went to the window. A second later, he turned and said, “Doc, you’ve got to go right now.”

“What? Why?”

“A bunch of those paparazzi guys showed up and one of them hit your car.”

“Oh my God.”
Not the car.
“How bad is it?”

“The guy is okay, but your car is totaled.”

“My car is totaled? How am I…damn it.” She pulled out her phone and punched in Alex’s number. It didn’t occur to her until after it started to ring that she’d called him without thinking.

Somehow, in the last couple of days, he’d gone from being an annoying acquaintance to first on her call list. She didn’t want to examine how that had happened too closely. Just realizing it was disconcerting enough.

He answered on the first ring and sounded worried. “Calla? Where are you? I’m at Helen’s House, but you aren’t here.”

“I’m still at Alicia’s apartment.” She turned to say something to Rafael, but he was gone. Out in the hall, she could hear him talking to the neighbors. “The paparazzi found me somehow. One of them totaled my car. I’m going to need a ride.” She glanced out the window. There were several cars parked haphazardly on the street, with a bunch of photographers taking photos. “Scratch that. I’m going to need a tank.”

“A tank? Why a tank?”

“Because it’s big, unstoppable, and I can disappear inside it.” Maybe two tanks would be better.

“If it’s that bad,” Alex said with a drawl. “I think I need to get you some body armor.”

“Ha ha. How long until you get here?”

“Does she need an ambulance?” Alex asked, all business.

“No, but she does need to go soon. Can you come?”

“I’m not the best person to come to your rescue,” he said slowly. “The press have enough pictures of us together.”

“Alex, Alicia trusts you and me. She isn’t going to get into a stranger’s vehicle, and the only way you’d get her into an ambulance is if she’s unconscious.”

He sighed. “Okay, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Just hurry.” She glanced out the window again.

“I’m in my car and I’ll be there in a few minutes.” His voice rose in pitch, telling her he was really worried. “Wait for me. Please.”

No one had worried about her for a long time. The realization that he was anxious for her gave her stomach butterflies. She wasn’t sure she could watch the situation devolve into violence without doing something about it. Her heart pounded hard and fast, her breathing echoed in her ears. “Hurry.” She hung up.

As she watched, a young woman said something to one of the photographers, gesturing at him. Even from this distance, Calla could read the woman’s lips:
Fuck you, you come into our neighborhood and
— The rest she wasn’t sure of, but from the quick retreat of the photographer, it was something blunt and threatening.

The photographer lowered his camera and said something back to her.

She lunged at the photographer, punched him, and ripped the camera away. It landed on the pavement, shattering into a million plastic, glass, and electronic pieces.

More locals ran at the other photographers, who ended up herded into a small group, back-to-back. None of them stopped taking pictures.

“Do they have a death wish?” She headed for the door.

She reached the main floor and headed outside. There were a lot of people milling about the road and sidewalk. She tried to get a sense of what was going on, but it was hard to see.

Suddenly, a man tumbled to the ground. He was followed by the woman she’d seen through the window, whose fists were clenched as she yelled at him in Spanish.

“Wait,” Calla called out to the men.

No one noticed her.

“Wait.” Still no reaction from anyone. “No.
Stop!
”

Finally, she had everyone’s attention. Including the paparazzi. Cameras flashed and some of the men rushed toward her, yelling questions she couldn’t hear. The odd word stood out: “drug,” “thug,” and “boyfriend.” None of it made sense, so she asked a question of her own.

“Why are you here?” She dodged a camera to make eye contact with the man behind it.

The photographer glanced at his compatriots, then at the angry mob who hovered only a couple feet away. A hurricane would have been friendlier.

“I got a tip that you were spending time with someone who may or may not be a drug lord.”

“There are no drug lords here, only people who can’t afford health care. Who gave you this tip?” she asked another.

“A concerned citizen.”

She could guess who that was. Jeff MacKay. The man was more irritating than a rash and as difficult to get rid of.

“You’re a drug-dealing doctor,” one of them yelled.

“No, she isn’t,” Alex interrupted, surfacing out of the crowd and striding to her side. “She’s here visiting a sick friend.”

Calla had never been so happy to see someone in her entire life. He radiated calm and confidence, and the photographers stopped milling around and congregated in front of him, as if unconsciously knowing who was in charge.

So sexy. So strong. So wrong.

“Why should we believe you? You’re dating a client,” someone yelled. “Again. Isn’t that a conflict of interest?”

“I can’t represent someone I like? Really?”

The paparazzi closed in, their attention focused on her and Alex, but mostly Alex. There was movement in the corner of her eye, and she turned her head to see most of the locals disappearing in twos and threes.

Her attention was jerked back to the men arguing when one of the photographers asked, “Are you two really together? One of my sources says it’s all an act.”

Calla gritted her teeth. Time to go to war. She’d had enough of rude people making asinine comments about things they knew nothing about. “What kind of idiotic question is that?”

Everyone laughed. Well, not Alex and certainly not her.

“Telling the truth all the time is good in the courtroom, but bad for the bedroom, right?”

“Any woman would count herself lucky to be with him.” Calla said in a tone she made sure would sound
very
satisfied.

Both of Alex’s eyebrows went up and a small, surprised smile turned up the corners of his lips. “Calla, let’s make our way to my car.”

He liked what she said.
She glanced at his mouth again and confirmed the sexy grin he wore.
He liked it a lot.

“How long have you been selling drugs?” one photographer yelled.

“Diagnosing? Isn’t your medical licence suspended, Doctor?” another asked.

“No.”

Alex coughed.

When she glanced at him, he winced. “Time to go, Calla.”

Alex nudged her into a walk and got her into his car before the paparazzi could get in the way.

“Alex?” It couldn’t be true. Voluntarily not practicing was one thing, but an actual order to suspend her licence? She found herself struggling to breathe, as if someone had punched her in the chest.

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger as he hurried her along. “It’s only temporary.”

“When were you going to tell me?” she asked him, betrayal hollowing out her voice.

“I only just found out,” he said. “I’ve already instigated a challenge to the suspension.”

“But why?” There had to be proof for this kind of order to be issued by the AMA.

“More photos appeared online about two hours ago.” Regret darkened his tone. “All of them are your patients.”

The bottom fell out of her stomach. When would this insanity end?

“We’re going to get this straightened out. I swear.”

Rafael and his cousins brought Alicia and got her into Alex’s car as well. Rafael slid in next to her in the back.

They pulled away from the curb with several cars following.

Calla slumped in her seat. “Now what?”

Alex glanced at her. “Now I get you out of here.”

She let her head fall into her hands. “I feel like Alice when she fell down the rabbit hole. Nothing makes sense.”

“We have to find the person leaking the photos to the press. Right now, everyone is looking at you as the culprit.”

“What possible reason could I have for sabotaging my own career?”

“So far, neither the press or medical authorities have been looking at motive. They’ve been reacting to events. We need to slow them down and encourage them to start asking those types of questions.”

“I don’t have time for this to drag on for long. I have patients to see.”

“I realize that, but we’re going to have to take this one step at a time.”

She sighed and slouched, curling in on herself.

“We will resolve everything, I promise,” he said in a tone that transformed the statement into a vow.

Alex didn’t make statements he didn’t mean. He told the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. Knowing that helped calm her nerves and stomach. “I feel like my perfectly balanced life has been pushed out of alignment, and then I remember that nothing about my life has been balanced for a very long time.”

He put his hand over hers and squeezed. “I promise.” The warmth of his hand sank in and took a little of her tension away.
What could he do with those hands and some heated massage oil?

She didn’t say anything, but after a few seconds turned her hand to hold his and sat a little straighter.

If she hadn’t already fallen into lust with him, this would have done it. Being a strong man had less to do with muscles and more to do with a soul of steel when it came to right and wrong.

Alicia said something to Rafael and the high pitch of her voice told Calla she was in pain.

Calla twisted around to ask, “Rafael, what did she say?”

“She says the pain is worse.”

Calla examined Alicia’s face and saw the pain in the other woman’s clenched teeth and tear-filled eyes. “We’ll be there soon.” Calla glanced at Alex who met her gaze for only a moment, but he read her silent message right and stepped on the gas.

Ten minutes later, two male nurses from Helen’s House eased Alicia from the car into a wheelchair, then wheeled her into the clinic.

Calla discussed Alicia’s case with one of the other surgeons, who agreed that she needed blood work, x-rays, and probably a night or two at the facility. Calla stayed with Alicia until she was taken into the radiology room.

“Calla, come on, it’s time to go,” Alex said as the tech chased everyone out of the room where they did all their x-rays. Helen had added a lead lining to all the walls.

Calla didn’t argue. With her licence suspended, she’d already done more than she should’ve, but watching Alicia disappear, knowing she wasn’t welcome, was like a knife to the gut.

Alex put her hand on her back and she allowed him to guide her out to his car. Several photographers waited and followed them as they left.

They’d been driving for five minutes when Calla realized they weren’t heading to her house. “Where are we going?”

Alex’s reply was short and to the point. “Out.”

“Out?”

“To dinner, to sleep, to get away from it all,” Alex said with a pirate accent to his voice.

“You sound like you’ve tossed it all away, hoisted the black flag, and plan to begin slitting throats.”

“Aye, though not the part about slitting throats.”

“I should have guessed. I’ve never met a pirate lawyer before.”

Alex chuckled. “Most of us are pirates at heart.” He drove with a confidence that told her he knew exactly where they were going.

“So, I shouldn’t ask what our destination is?”

“The Beverly Wilshire Hotel.”

“Whoa. Even I’ve heard of that one.”