was capable of taking care of herself and she was probably just busy with a client, but she usually sent some kind of response like I’ll call you back or I’m in a meeting. The fact that she said nothing…troubled me.
I grabbed my phone and called the main desk.
Matt answered. “Trinity Concierge. Matt speaking.”
“Hey, Matt. It’s Deacon Hamilton.”
“Hello, Mr. Hamilton. How can I help you?”
“Is Cleo around?”
“No, she left a while ago. Doctor’s appointment.”
I didn’t know she had a doctor’s appointment. “Oh…alright. Thank you.” I hung up then stared at the phone on my desk, surprised she had an appointment and didn’t tell me about it. We told each other everything.
But then I remembered that her health was a private matter, that it was none of my business what was in her medical chart or medical history. All those HIPAA violations came to mind as a physician.
But still, I worried.
She was young and healthy, so it was probably just a routine checkup. Nothing to worry about.
At least, that’s what I told myself.
When I came home, Derek was at the dining table with a new instruction book. He was drawing his own pictures with a sharp pencil, sketching like an artist, trying to copy the picture on the page.
I shed my coat by the door and carried my bag to the dining table. “What are you working on, son?”
“Patricia got me a sketchbook, so I’m learning how to draw. Look.” He held up his picture.
“Very nice.”
Patricia came out of the kitchen and set the plate at my seat, grilled chicken with rice pilaf and veggies. “Since he’s so good with the coloring book, I thought it would help for him to learn perception, dimension, spacing. He’s so good at math and writing, so I thought we could hone those artistic skills.” She turned to Derek. “Honey, let’s put everything away because it’s dinnertime.”
“Cleo isn’t home, and I’d like to wait for her.”
“She texted me and said she’s on her way up.” Patricia went back into the kitchen to retrieve the other plates.
Derek obeyed her instruction and put everything away and carried it to his room.
She returned with two other plates and then a bottle of wine and glasses. “I hope you had a lovely day, Mr. Hamilton. It’s time for me to head home.” She smiled before she excused herself from the condo.
The interaction was a little weird, but she didn’t make annoying chitchat and she excused herself the second I was home. I didn’t ask her to cook, but if the food was good, then I didn’t care.
Cleo walked in a moment later, wearing a long-sleeved sweater dress with a puffy neck. Her hair was pulled back, and she wore knee-high boots, sexy as hell. Her heavy purse was under her arm, and she set it on the entryway table before she moved farther into the condo. “Hey. Something smells good.” She seemed normal, like nothing happened at her doctor’s appointment today.
“Patricia made dinner.”
“Well, it smells like she did a good job.” She walked to me then smiled, like she was happy to see my face when she walked in the door. Her arms moved around my torso, and she moved into me to kiss me, her hands holding on to my back.
I squeezed her back, but I couldn’t resist, I gripped her ass through the dress since Derek was out of the room.
She chuckled against my lips and swatted my hand away. “Deacon…”
“He’s gotta learn.”
She rolled her eyes and turned to the table. “Where is he?”
“Putting his stuff away in his bedroom.”
“I need some water. I’ve been running around all day, and I’m so dehydrated.” She went into the kitchen and filled up a glass from the fridge then set it next to her wine. “How was your day?”
“I was in my office all day. Paperwork.”
“Maybe we should get started on getting you more organized.”
“Yeah.” I stared at her face, seeing her diamond earrings, the beautiful complexion that highlighted her eyes. Her father’s watch was on my wrist, and now my collection of fancy Omegas and Rolexes was abandoned in my drawer. It was a cheap brand, but I wore it anyway because it was more valuable than my other stuff. I only took it off went I went to sleep, showered, or went to the gym. But other than that, it was always on my wrist. “I got worried when you didn’t text me back, so I called the front desk. Matt told me you had a doctor’s