How Much I Feel - Marie Force Page 0,98
boardroom, and I’m getting less than nothing done while I wait. Surrendering to the reality that I’m completely useless today, I’ve again turned my desk chair toward the window that overlooks the parking lot and the activity at the main entrance.
I stare out that window for what has to be an hour as I try to remain calm while I wait to hear something.
“Do you even know what otolaryngology is?”
The sound of his voice electrifies me, and my mood swings from the lowest of lows to the highest of highs in a whiplashing second. Smiling, I say, “It’s a medical specialty focused on the ears, nose and throat or, as it applies to you, head and neck surgery.” I turn my chair to find him leaning against the doorframe looking handsome, relaxed and dare I say happy.
His smile lights up my world. “Hi.”
“Hi there.”
“How’s it going?” he asks.
“Oh, you know, just another day in paradise. You?”
“Eh,” he says with a shrug. “Nothing special except for right now.”
“Are you going to tell me how it went with the board, or are you going to make me suffer?”
He raises a brow. “How do you know about the board? I told Mona not to say anything.”
“She didn’t. Turns out Debby in the cafeteria is an excellent source of information around here.”
“So I’ve heard.” He pushes off the doorframe, closes my office door and comes over to sit on my desk, facing me. “It went well with the board, thanks to you and that incredible presentation you put together.”
“You gave me a lot to work with.” I bite my lip as I stare at him greedily and contemplate the question I most want to ask.
“What?” he asks, giving me an inquisitive look.
“I was just wondering . . .” I clear my throat and force myself to look directly at him, which for me is akin to looking directly into the sun. He makes everything brighter in my world, just by walking into the room.
“What are you wondering, Rizo?”
As always, the nickname makes me swoon. “If you were offered your job back in New York, why did you meet with the board here?”
“You really have to ask that question?”
“Well, yes, I guess I do.”
He pushes himself off the desk and surprises the living crap out of me when he drops to his knees in front of me and wraps his arms around me, resting his forehead against my chest.
For a second, I’m too stunned to move, but then my fingers find their way to his hair, and my heart starts beating so fast I fear I might need medical attention. Good thing I’m in a hospital.
After a long moment in which we simply coexist in the relief of being back together, he pulls back to look up at me. “I met with the Miami-Dade board because I want to work here. I want to live here.”
I know the answer to my own question, but I ask it anyway. I want to hear him say it. “Why?”
“Because you’re here.”
My heart skips a happy beat, and the surge of joy that floods through me leaves me breathless. “You can’t make major career decisions based on someone you’ve known less than a month.”
“Too late. I already have.”
“Jason . . .”
“Carmen . . .”
I can’t believe this is happening, that he’s in my office telling me he’s rearranged his career and life for me. “This is insanity.”
He shakes his head. “No, it’s not. It’s love. I love you. I want to be with you. I want to be part of your big, fabulous Cuban-Italian family. I want to burn my ass with you on Priscilla’s leather seats in the hot South Florida sunshine. I want to be wherever you are.”
Overwhelmed by everything he said, I cup his face and stare into the golden-brown eyes that’ve dazzled me from the start.
“You know what would make this moment absolutely perfect?” he asks with a teasing grin.
“What?”
“If you were to tell me you love me, too, so I’ll know I didn’t just make a complete fool of myself in front of the Miami-Dade board.”
I kiss him with all the love I feel for him, with days’ worth of pent-up desire and the elation that comes with seeing a once-hopeless situation become the promise of a future I never dared to dream possible. “I love you, too. I think I have from almost the first second I ever saw you.”
“I fell for you when I saw you in that jail cell.”
I play-punch his