How Much I Feel - Marie Force Page 0,57
call from a local number I don’t recognize. “Carmen Giordino.”
“Hey, this is Desiree Rivera with NBC 6.”
I give Jason, who’s still in a crouch next to my car, a big-eyed look and put the phone on speaker so he can hear, too. “Hi, Desiree. Thanks so much for calling.”
“Maria told me about your colleague, the pediatric neurosurgeon who’s offering pro bono work at her clinic in Little Havana. My bosses love the idea of a feature story, if he’s game.”
Jason nods, but I can see the reluctance all over his face.
“He is, but there’s a catch.”
“What kind of catch?”
“The reason he’s courting publicity is he was part of a scandal at his former hospital in New York. He met a woman, began a relationship with her and the whole time she was setting him up to help her out of a bad marriage—with the chairman of the board of his hospital.”
“Whoa.”
“He had no idea she was married, let alone to the chairman of the board. They transferred him to Miami-Dade without mentioning the scandal. Apparently, the board in Miami heard about it and isn’t sure they want to extend privileges. Our goal is to show that he’s someone we want and need in our community.”
“So that’s why he’s doing the pro bono work?”
“Yes, but he’s really looking forward to it. He would tell you he doesn’t get to do a lot of routine medical stuff anymore since his regular patients come to him when they’re in some sort of crisis. He welcomes the opportunity to make a contribution to his new community.”
He smiles and gives me a thumbs-up, which is a relief, because I’m totally winging this.
“If we do the interview, I’d have to ask him about what happened in New York.”
He grimaces.
I meet his gaze. “Understood.”
“Let me test the waters here and get back to you in an hour or so. Maria said he’d be there all day today?”
“That’s right.”
“Okay, I’m on it. Talk soon.”
She’s gone before I can reply. “This is an amazing opportunity,” I tell him.
“I know.” He stands to his full height and stretches, all signs of arousal killed by the reminder of what we’re doing today and why we’re doing it. “You promised me Cuban coffee.”
“So I did.”
Extending his hand, he helps me out of the car.
“Jason.”
“Yeah?”
“Are you okay?”
“I’m good.”
“You’re upset about the interview?”
“I’m upset that I need the interview.”
“It’ll help for people to hear the story from your point of view. I think you can talk in high-level terms about what happened without naming names.”
He nods, but the tight clench of his jaw is indicative of his true feelings. The last thing in the world he wants to talk about is the scandal he left behind, but the coverage of his work at the clinic will be a major “get” for our project.
Our drive to my favorite ventanita in Priscilla is filled with uneasy silence. Tension comes from him in waves that I can feel in the deepest part of me. I hate this for him, as much as I would if it’d happened to me. I’ve dived headfirst into whatever this is with him, and I don’t care about any of the possible consequences. And that’s so not me.
New Carmen wants this with every fiber of her being, and far be it from Boring Old Carmen to stand in her way. I direct him to the Citgo gas station that’s out of our way, but a necessary detour.
“I don’t need gas.”
“I know, but you do need a cortadito. Trust me. Juanita makes the best in town.” I get out of the car and meet him with a smile, hoping to cheer him up before we get to the clinic. About five people are ahead of us in the line that forms outside a nondescript window.
“They really sell coffee here?” Jason asks, seeming skeptical.
“Calling it ‘coffee’ doesn’t do it justice. You’ll be ruined for anything else after this.”
“You’re the boss.”
I explain to him the four types of Cuban coffee—cafecito, colada, café con leche and my favorite, cortadito. “Around here, if you visit someone’s home, the first thing you’re offered is coffee. It’s a major part of our culture.”
“I’m a big fan of coffee. Can’t wait to try it.”
“Hola, mi vida. ¿Quién es el guapo?” Juanita is in her early forties and has dark hair and eyes as well as a contagious personality that keeps people lined up outside her shop all day. She flirts shamelessly with her male customers but is hopelessly in love