Here I Am (Arabesque) - By Rochelle Alers Page 0,24
for the breakfast and lunch crowd, and other times when she worked late for dinner and private parties.
“I have an assignment that will last about six to eight weeks.”
“I hope you’re going to find someone to fill in for you for my brother’s surprise birthday party.”
Ciara nodded even though Sofia couldn’t see her. She’d committed to helping Sofia coordinate Esteban’s fortieth birthday celebration scheduled for the Labor Day weekend. “I’ll make certain someone will cover for me.” If she couldn’t get another nurse, then she would ask Leona to spend the night with Brandt.
“How is your patient?”
“That’s why I called you.” She told her friend about her initial meeting and confrontation with Brandt, that she’d acted inappropriately when she kissed him and his wanting to date her even though he’d said she looked dowdy.
There was only the sound of soft breathing coming through the earpiece. “I suppose he was referring to your maternity top and bun.”
Ciara rolled her eyes. “You don’t have to agree with him.”
“I’m not calling you dowdy, but you need to start wearing uniforms that fit your body. Whether you realize it or not, you’ve allowed one ugly incident to determine how you dress. Aren’t you the one who’s always preaching about not letting anyone control your life? Isn’t that why you stopped seeing Victor Seabrook?”
“You’re right, Sofia.”
“If I’m right, then do something about it. Now, back to your patient. Do you like him?”
“This is not about liking or not liking him, Sofia. I haven’t known Brandt Wainwright twenty-four hours and—”
“And what, Ciara? You don’t have to know someone twenty-four hours to know there’s fuego between you. I’m online and I just Googled Brandt Wainwright, and judging from the pictures of him and other women, none of them are featuring maternity tops and buns. Wait a minute. There’s a close-up of him and I must say el hombre es muy guapo. What do you have to lose by going out with him? Maybe after one date you’ll realize you don’t want to see him anymore. And poof! It’s over.”
She smiled. Sofia often used Spanglish when she was excited. The chef was right about Brandt being gorgeous. She’d found herself staring at him like a starstruck teen after he’d shaved. He had a strong, masculine jawline and the slight cleft in his chin was incredibly sexy.
“Maybe I’m just overreacting.”
“You’re probably overreacting because you’ve been in a sexual drought.”
“It’s not about sex!”
“¡Párelo! Stop it,” Sofia translated in the same breath. “It’s always about sex, Ciara. If it wasn’t, then the human race as we know it would cease to exist. Remember, his mother hired you, so that makes a big difference if you’re going to start with ‘I can’t get involved with my patient because it wouldn’t be ethical.’ You may be his nurse, but you’re also his companion. Flirt and tease him a little bit. I’m certain that will pull him out of his doldrums. And it’s not as if he can chase you around the bedroom in a wheelchair.”
Ciara knew she was good for Brandt. She’d made him laugh, eat and take his medication. What she had to figure out was whether he was good for her. Could she afford a dalliance with the superstar athlete behind closed doors? And once he was able to walk, could she walk away emotionally unscathed?
“I’m going to play it by ear,” she told Sofia.
“That’s my girl. Always leave your options open. Be sure to text me with updates.”
“Okay. Thanks for lending an ear.”
“Siempre. Recuerde, we’re chicas.”
Ciara smiled. “How can I forget?”
“Because I won’t let you. I have to get into the shower. I’m working the lunch shift today. Later.”
She ended the call, feeling less anxious than she had before talking to Sofia. Invariably Ciara could count on her friend to give her another perspective on any situation and vice versa. She’d been there for Sofia when she’d ended her short-lived marriage after she’d discovered her husband was sleeping with another woman, and Sofia had been there for her when she ended her relationship with Victor Seabrook. They didn’t need to see a therapist to work through their problems. They had each other.
Checking her watch, Ciara estimated Brandt’s therapy session would end in another ten minutes. She left the solarium and took the staircase to the first floor. The sound of the intercom chimed throughout the penthouse. Pressing a button on the panel in the living room, she answered the call.
“This is the lobby. Mr. Jordan Wainwright is on his way