Cynda and the City Doctor - Theodora Taylor Page 0,15

café/art gallery on Main Street. “I’m in need of a place to stay within walking distance of the clinic for a few months. And apparently there are no other vacancies in town at the moment.”

Now I’m really blinking. Is he serious? Judging from the expectant look on his face, he totally is.

“No,” I tell him. “You fired me. There’s no way I’m letting you stay here.”

He tilts his head. “Is that so. The chatty barista informed me that you really needed the money, so you’d be happy to let me stay. She was the one who suggested I walk right over. Though obviously she didn’t mention you by name.”

Damn this small town. In St. Louis and I’m pretty sure every other city in the country, just showing up at people’s houses isn’t a thing folks do. But Guadalajara still doesn’t fully comprehend the concept of stranger danger.

Heck, one time when Dr. Haim went on vacation, a plumber named Tommy appeared on my step with a bloody hand. Apparently, his client, old Mrs. Chanswick from down the street, had told him to come right on over after he cut his hand on one of her ancient pipes.

I mean, of course, I’d patched him up. And he gave me a pretty nice discount that time we had to get a new garbage disposal. Okay, if I’m being truthful, I usually find all the Guacamole neighborliness kind of charming. And I’ll probably miss it when I leave for Pittsburgh.

But not now! Right now, I’m like, “The nerve of Leah.”

Rhys snaps. “Yes, Leah. That was her name.”

We stand there, me frowning up at him and him frowning down at me. I’d forgotten how tall he was. Six feet plus and rangy, covered in lean muscle.

I remember how surprisingly heavy his body had felt against mine the night after our first date when we’d kissed for what seemed like hours outside my apartment door.

“Well?” he asks, interrupting that once sweet memory.

“Well, what?” I ask back.

“Are you going to show me the flat?”

“Are you going to give me back my job?”

“No,” he answers.

“Wow, look-it-there, you gave yourself my answer.”

Not going to lie, it feels great after the frustrating day I’ve had to shut the door in his face. Totally on period, as E likes to say after she’s made her point.

But Rhys catches the door with his foot before it can reach the satisfying slam part. “I’d advise you to give some thought to your current position.”

To think, I used to find his accent so sexy and charming before. But it’s totally cold now. And suddenly I understand why English people are always getting cast as supervillains.

“You have recently been let go and we’re in the midst of a pandemic,” he points out. “Do you really think another renter will come along willing to offer you two months’ rent upfront?”

I inwardly cuss because no, I don’t see that happening. I’ve been trying to rent that back house out since the day the twins got their early decision letters and that was what? Back in December. Months ago before anyone thought the virus would jump oceans and also come for us.

I grit my teeth. Wanting to say no, like I now wish I had when he asked me out on that first date.

But instead, I find myself countering, “Three months. Plus two month’s deposit.”

He looks at me for a long, cool second. Then he answers…

Chapter Five

Three years ago

“So, how are things going with The Fine Prince?” Gina asked, a month to the Saturday after Rhys asks me out. Like, as soon as we all appeared on the phone.

I leaned back against the brown brick outer wall of the Fountain Park Health Center, the free clinic I volunteered at whenever I had a day off. I’d just finished my shift when I realized it was time for the monthly call. I usually looked forward to chatting with Billie and Gina over FaceTime. But if this is the way we were starting, I could already tell it wasn’t going to go well.

“It’s been a whole month,” Billie pointed out in that analytical way of hers. Billie was one of those people who liked to get boring stuff like bills and laundry done while talking on the phone, and since her square picture was on top of Gina’s this time in my display, it looked like she was talking directly to Gina when she said, “I doubt he’s still around.”

Gina’s face, fully made up for that night’s shift at Magic