The Man Ban - Nicola Marsh Page 0,56
me?”
“You could’ve called me.”
“I’m an old-fashioned gal and prefer the guy to do all the chasing.”
“Babe, I don’t need to chase anymore. I know you’re a sure thing.”
“I think you just insulted me.”
“I complimented you.” Damn, he loved her quick wit. “What are you up to?”
She hesitated, and he heard the faintest sound of traffic in the background. “I’m out, about to head home.”
“Fancy some company?”
He held his breath like a lovesick teen asking the girl he secretly adored to the prom.
“Yeah, that’d be nice. But I live all the way out in Ashwood, and don’t you need to rest after working so hard?”
“I can rest. Later.”
“So this is a booty call, huh?”
“Only if you want it to be.”
He heard her soft sigh. “I want to see you. What happens after that? Let’s play it by ear.”
Manny wanted to make light of it, to focus on the wordplay. But he wanted her to know how much it meant to him to see her, so he said, “I’ve been operating on autopilot the last two days, and I’m bone-deep tired, but I want to see you too. It’s all I can think about.”
“I’ll text you my address,” she said, her tone husky. “See you soon.”
When she hung up, he grinned like an idiot before dragging his tired ass to the shower.
Soon couldn’t come quick enough.
41
Harper hated the vitiligo treatment.
More to the point, the time suck it involved. The closest skin clinic that had one of the special phototherapy machines was thirty minutes away, so it was an hour return trip three times a week. And while the treatment itself didn’t take long—she’d built up to eighty seconds being zapped like a roast chicken—she hated the vulnerability of it all.
Taking off her clothes. Wearing goggles to protect her eyes. Standing naked in the small cylindrical space while every inch of her body was blasted with high UV. She wasn’t a big fan of the warnings either, that long-term treatment increased the risk of skin cancer. But she had no option. Either get treatment or risk the patches extending. The dermatologist said she was progressing slower than he’d like but she could see the improvement. He’d taken photos pre-treatment and at regular intervals since. The patches were shrinking, but she’d prefer them gone. He’d warned her that might never happen and she may need to continue treatment for however long was necessary.
She just wanted it to finish.
Stupid, really, because having an autoimmune disease meant she’d have this for the rest of her life. But the treatment would decrease with time and with it, some of her resentment, she hoped.
She loved her parents, she really did, but a small part of her would never get past how stress had probably triggered this and the timing coincided with their shock separation. Not that she’d ever tell them, but she knew her increasing annoyance with their situation stemmed a little from her resentment.
It didn’t seem right to blame them; the dermatologist had assured her this kind of thing could be triggered at any time, and while stress was the most likely culprit, it could be caused by other stuff. But her life had been surprisingly angst-free fourteen months ago; she’d been in a stable relationship with Colin, she’d had a steady income from catering on the side while building her food-styling portfolio, and she’d been looking ahead to the future.
The only rough spot had been her parents’ separation, so it stood to reason she blamed that as her stressor. She’d tell them eventually—not the part about blaming them, but about her disease. They’d been too self-absorbed since the separation to notice anything going on with her. Her dad wouldn’t notice anyway, and her mom had simply made a comment once about her makeup application being flawless.
That’s the thing about good foundation and concealer. They hid a multitude of flaws.
After having filled a script for the ointment she used on her face—it cost a small fortune, another not-so-fun part of the vitiligo—she’d headed for her car when her cell rang. When she’d seen Manny’s name on the screen, she’d contemplated not answering for a moment. Having treatment didn’t leave her in a great mood. But as it turned out, answering his call had been the best thing she could’ve done. There was something about Manny that never failed to bring a smile to her face, and the thought of spending some time with him would lift her spirits. She needed that lift.
After spending the last few days