Just One Night Together (Flatiron Five Fitness #3) - Deborah Cooke Page 0,33

shift.

It made sense that Natasha was worried about Damon’s future happiness. It was quite sweet, really. Haley knew that she couldn’t give him that kind of relationship—she wasn’t prepared to lose her heart over anyone ever again—but she could give him something else.

Just sex, especially when it was just sex with Damon, was a very good thing.

And maybe it was exactly what he needed to forget his concerns for a couple of hours.

When Haley got off the elevator, she pulled out her phone and pulled up Damon’s number.

She shouldn’t.

She would.

“Hi.” He answered on the second ring. His tone was friendly but she noticed that he hadn’t called her by name.

“Working today?” she asked.

“You know it. I’ve got to pay for being off last night. You?”

“Absolutely. I just gave your mom a massage. She’s sleeping, by the way.”

“Thanks.” His voice warmed even more and Haley took a breath.

“How disappointing,” she said, then sighed.

“What is?”

“I prefer the other way you say thanks.”

He chuckled, surprised but not really. “That can be delivered, if you give me a time.”

“I get off at 2 a.m.”

“And I know where you live,” he agreed easily. “I’ll see you there.”

“Sounds good,” Haley said, finding herself out of breath. She ended the call and stood there for a moment, gripping her phone. Since when had she become a woman who ordered booty calls?

Since she’d met Damon.

And she had no regrets.

Look out, 2018.

Damon had time to feel a bit of anticipation after Haley’s call before his phone rang again. It was his mom’s oncologist.

“I apologize for not calling this morning, Mr. Perez.”

“The nurse said your hours might be different today. It’s fine.”

“Do have a moment right now?”

“I do. Let me just shut the door.” Damon closed the door to the F5F office and sat at his desk, fighting a bad feeling. He’d been restless after leaving Haley’s place and had only managed to doze for an hour or so before heading to the club. He had a sense of pending doom and that had kept him vigilant.

He had a feeling he was going to learn why in the next few minutes.

“As you know, we’ve been pursuing an increasingly aggressive course of treatment with your mom, since the first round of chemotherapy had little discernible effect.”

“It was still spreading,” Damon said.

“It is still spreading, Mr. Perez. Unfortunately, your mother’s leukemia is particularly resistant to treatment. We’re not seeing much progress at all.”

“Is there any reason why that might be?”

The doctor sighed. “Well, there are still a lot of variables that we haven’t identified. We do find acute myeloid leukemia more resistant to treatment in adults over sixty years of age, which your mom is. The other variables that are known don’t seem to apply. She never smoked.”

“No, she didn’t.”

“She’s certainly not male and she hasn’t had cancer before. There’s no exposure to radiation in her history, is there?”

“Not that I know of.”

“It’s impossible to say exactly why we’re not making progress, but her blood work makes it very clear.” He paused. “I am not certain how much will be gained by beginning the next course of chemotherapy.”

“I thought there was always a chance of improvement...”

“There is always a chance, Mr. Perez. The universe works in mysterious ways. But there are also statistical probabilities, and there is your mom’s quality of life to consider, as well as her comfort.” He cleared his throat when Damon didn’t speak. “I see that you have already arranged the power of attorney.”

“Yes, my mom insisted on it when she was home in the fall.”

“It’s probably wise to have those details arranged while everyone is thinking clearly. It means, though, that you have a decision to make, Mr. Perez, regarding your mother’s care from this point onward.”

“You think treatment should stop.”

“I am looking at six month’s of data, Mr. Perez, and the only thing that I see making a difference in your mother’s health and welfare is the calming effect of therapeutic massage.”

Damon nodded and bowed his head, then realized the doctor couldn’t see him. “I see,” he said and it was hard to force the words free.

“She was talking in her sleep this morning to someone named Marco,” the doctor noted.

“My dad.”

“And has he been to visit her?”

“No. He’s been dead for thirty years.”

“I see. Is there anyone else your mother would enjoy seeing again?”

Tears pricked at Damon’s eyes. He was being warned and he knew it. “Maybe a few people. Can you give me a timeline on this?”

The doctor hesitated for only a moment. “When

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