The Boy Toy - Nicola Marsh Page 0,37

into her panties.

But considering her mom knew Manish, she doubted he’d be that underhandedly sleazy. Plus he didn’t give off that vibe. Besides, having a coffee with him would come with an added bonus: she could tell her mom about it and Kushi would lay off . . . for a day or so at least.

“Sure. Where shall I meet you?”

“There’s a café in Southbank about halfway between us. Bobbie’s. Do you know it?”

“I’ll find it,” she said. “See you there in an hour.”

“Great,” he said. “Now I know how easy it is to schedule a coffee date with you after one referral, I’ll be sending all my patients requiring physiotherapy to you in the future.”

She smiled at his lighthearted flirtation. “You do that, buddy, but this is a one-off. I need a caffeine fix, that’s all.”

“Keep telling yourself that, Samira.”

With another chuckle, he hung up, leaving her staring at the phone, bemused. She didn’t think Manish would be persistent, as she’d already made it clear she wasn’t interested in him in that way. But maybe she’d given him the wrong idea in calling? If so, she’d set him straight. She had eyes for one guy at the moment, and despite only seeing him on Saturday, she wanted to see him again.

On impulse, she picked up her cell from the desk. After her bungling call last time, she’d stick to texting this time. But when she glanced at the screen, a little red dot glowed above the “message” box. She occasionally checked her cell between patients but had been too busy all morning. It could be her mom or Pia or anybody, but her heart pounded as her thumb stabbed at the little green button and she spied Rory’s name above the message.

Her lips eased into a smile as she read the first line: I MISS U

The feeling was mutual, and she liked that he didn’t play games like some guys, who’d never admit they missed a woman they were dating in a million years. She read the rest of his text.

U BUSY? I AM.

BUT NEED TO T UP ANOTHER DATE SOON.

I’M PINING 4 U.

Samira unconsciously pressed a hand to her heart. It was the most romantic text she’d ever received, and she thought it was cute that he was far more eloquent in text than verbally.

With a big grin on her face, she fired back an answer:

MISS U 2.

V. BUSY, WILL B IN TOUCH,

ANOTHER DATE SOUNDS GR8.

She deleted the two kisses at the end and settled for a loved-up emoji with three hearts floating around a blushing, smiling face, because that was her all over every time she thought about him; warm and fuzzy, like one of those cartoon characters from her childhood with hearts for eyes.

Crazy, because he was all wrong for her. Kushi would not approve of Rory, and a small part of Samira wondered if that was part of the attraction? Before she remembered his startling blue eyes and his lazy grin and his stubble and his muscles and his very impressive . . . No, she liked Rory for a multitude of reasons beyond his obvious attributes.

The sooner she had a quick obligatory coffee with Manish, the better, so she could rejig her calendar and fit in a very important date with the guy who’d piqued her interest without trying.

* * *

* * *

Here you go, one skinny cappuccino.” Manish placed the takeout mug in front of her and sat opposite. “Sure I can’t tempt you with one of these?” He picked up a ginormous blueberry muffin and brandished it.

“No, thanks, I’m good.” She picked up her coffee. “At least I will be once I drink this.”

“Tough morning?”

“Just busy. You know how it is.”

“Yeah.” He grimaced. “We had a multiple-vehicle pileup on the Ring Road this morning, which meant ER went into overdrive.”

“So you’re an ER doctor?”

He nodded, those peculiar gray eyes clouding with worry and something else she couldn’t identify but looked a lot like guilt. “Yeah, it’s stimulating work, but you can’t save everyone, and that sucks.”

His empathy made her like him a little more. She’d worked with many doctors over the years, and most developed a hardened shell to deal with the constant deaths they saw every day. But she glimpsed real emotion in his eyes, like he seriously cared.

“You love your job.”

The corners of his mouth quirked in a wry grin. “Guilty as charged. I’m married to my work, which is as good an excuse as any when my grandmother starts