Kade

Quinn finally got the hell out of my office.

I could figure computer programs out myself. If I could fly twenty different types of airplanes, I could figure out a simple computer program.

I was just settling in to my office when I got a text from Susan.

SUSAN: Sorry to bother you at work.

My stomach dropped. And my thoughts flashed to a hundred different things that could be wrong. Mother could have fallen again. She wasn’t supposed to be walking, but she was too stubborn to do what she was supposed to do. 

Actually, I think maybe she was forgetting that she wasn’t supposed to be walking.

Unfortunately, Susan confirmed those fears.

ME: Not a problem. What’s wrong?

SUSAN: Nothing serious. She seems more forgetful today. Keeps talking about Madison. 

ME: Madison?

Mother had asked about Madison during our visit, but I thought—hoped—it was a fleeting thing.

I seriously thought she’d been joking with me since I’d talked a lot about Madison when we were together and Mother knew she lived here in Houston.

If she remembered.

ME: Can you schedule her a doctor’s appointment? With the neurologist?

I’d expected to do more for Mother. To see her on the weekends. Help with things around the house. 

I didn’t count on being needed for day to day things. It was starting to sink in just how much there was to be done for her.

Just yesterday, Mother had called me and asked me to come over and change the bandage on her leg.

She didn’t seem to remember that she had twenty-four seven caregivers for that sort of thing.

It had taken me a good half hour to find out who was staying with her and get them on the phone.

I now had a detailed schedule on my iPad. So now I was a caregiver scheduler.

That was going to be a full-time job in itself. 

Damn it. I was going to have to hire someone just to keep up with the caregivers.

SUSAN: I’ll schedule something and let you know when it is.

I stared at my phone.

I was going to have to take off from work to take my mother to the doctor. 

Maybe Susan could do it. She seemed to be the most reliable of the caregivers.

But right now I had to figure out this paperwork program for Skye Travels.

Without depending too much on Madison.

Another text came in from Susan. 

SUSAN: I got her scheduled for tomorrow morning. Can you take her?

Madison

I was on the phone with a client—an upset client—doing some fancy schedule juggling while managing to calm the client. 

Would I be bragging to say that I was good at what I did? 

Between my experience with juggling schedules and my experience with emotional people, I was having a good morning.

I was wearing my headset, so I couldn’t hear anything outside the phone call.

It was almost lunch-time and I’d made myself comfortable. 

I had kicked off my shoes and propped my feet up on the counter. 

I had one hand on the keyboard and the end of an ink pen in my mouth.

“Yes, Mrs. Bailey. You’re all set.” 

She was worried about making sure everything was in place. Apparently she’d had schedule mix-ups before. 

“Yes, Mrs. Bailey. Be here on Saturday. Our pilots will get you there safely.”

I’d told her my name when she answered, but she asked me again.

“D—Madison Worthington,” I said. 

I hung up the phone and tossed my pen to the counter. That had been a most trying phone call. And on top of it all, I’d almost called myself Dr. Worthington. Habit. And I had a feeling that Mrs. Bailey would have kept me on the phone with that revelation.

“Hi.”

I jumped, my feet slamming to the floor.

Kade was leaning against the counter, a smile on his face.

“You scared me half to death.” I put a hand on my chest. “I forgot you were here.”

That was a lie of course. I was acutely aware of Kade’s presence here. 

That we were the only ones here.

He feigned a wounded expression. “You really know how to boost a guy’s ego.”

“Like you need your ego boosted.” I said. 

He just grinned. “Want to go to lunch?” 

“Can’t,” I said. “No one’s here.”

Another lie. I could close up for lunch if I wanted to. 

But lunch with Kade would be taking things to a whole other level. And I wasn’t ready for that. 

He pulled out his cell phone. 

“You still like cheese pizza?”

“Of course,” I said.

I shoved my feet back into my heels.

While he ordered the pizza, I ran a finger over my palm.

If I looked carefully, I could still see a shadow of the numbers he’d written on my palm.

I didn’t know what to make of him.

He was being charming.

And when he was being charming, he was dangerous.

The charming version of Kade was my undoing.

Every time.