“True love,” she teased. She kissed Gabriel on the cheek and said, “Pass it on to Selena.”
A young man in a suit, carrying a huge bouquet of flowers in a vase, briskly approached Alex. “The nurse said you were Alexandra Morgan?”
Gabriel tensed beside her, shifting his body so that he was partly in front of her.
“You’re not authorized to be here,” Gabriel said firmly. “I will have security remove you.”
The guy looked almost green from surprise. “I-I-my name is Robbie. I-I work for Travis Hart’s campaign. He-he-he asked me to deliver Ms. Morgan flowers t-t-to thank her.”
Gabriel stepped forward and took the vase from Robbie. “Tell Mr. Hart thank you. You may go back the way you came.”
Robbie nodded. “Thank you. Thank you.” He practically ran back down the hall.
“Who’d have thought doctors were so intimidating,” Alex said.
Gabriel wasn’t smiling when he handed her the vase. “Whoever let that kid in violated my direct orders.”
“Your military service is showing,” Alex said. Gabriel had spent several years as a medic in the Army. She didn’t know much about his service record, only what Selena had told her in passing. Gabriel didn’t like to talk about it.
“Perhaps.” He opened the door into the staff garage. “Don’t be a stranger, Alex. Selena said you cancelled twice on her for drinks.”
Alex didn’t know what to say, so she shrugged.
Gabriel tapped her chin. “Hey, we care about you. The last few months have been especially difficult, I get that, but you have friends.”
“I know. I guess – well, I just feel like a failure. Unemployed. Unemployable. I want my old life back and I can’t have it.” She sighed. “I’m just feeling sorry for myself.”
“Pull yourself up, Alex. You’re strong enough. And the next time Selena calls you to meet, be there.”
“I will.”
Sometimes, it was easy to forget that she did have friends. Self-pity. That’s all it was. And she had to find a way to move on or she’d never feel good about herself again.
Chapter Five
It didn’t take much persuading for Alex to agree to spend the night at her dad’s house. She really didn’t want to go back to the small apartment she’d moved into after she left Jim. She hated the place, but she’d signed a year’s lease, and she really couldn’t afford much else. It wasn’t that it was a dump—it was anything but a dump. The building had been recently renovated, the old business converted into chic lofts. She thought she’d like living downtown—but she didn’t. She missed having a yard, missed having space, and despised having neighbors so close to her. She’d planned to move out on June 1st, when her lease was up, when she got a job and could afford a small rental house.
Of course, she didn’t have a job, her severance package was almost gone, and if she didn’t find something soon she’d have to move in with her dad permanently.
She was thirty-four years old. She couldn’t live with her father.
Still, she loved the house she grew up in. The judge had bought the modest yet stately house in the “Fabulous Forties” neighborhood of Sacramento shortly after her younger brother, A.J., was born. She’d grown up here since she was three—she didn’t even remember the house she’d been born in. Birthday parties and hide and seek and swimming in the summer ... a lot of joy was in this house. And a lot of sorrow. Her mother grew ill—cancer—and died in this house. But it was home, and the judge said he’d never move.
She liked having a home base. But she didn’t want to move back.
She was exhausted, even though it was a short drive from the hospital to her dad’s house. But she wouldn’t admit it to anyone, especially her father. Instead, she said, “I’m hungry.”
“Good. Your grandmother is preparing your favorite.”
Now her stomach growled. “Spaghetti and meatballs?”
“Of course.”
Already, she felt better.
Then she saw the car in front of the house. Not just any car, but a three-year-old black Nissan Altima with a small American flag in one corner and a small U.S. Navy seal in the other rear corner.
She knew exactly who owned that car.
“What’s going on?” she asked her dad.
“Alexandra, just talk to him.”
“Dad—” She wasn’t in the mood for an argument. She was too tired, too frustrated, too ... hell, she didn’t know. She just wanted to eat some spaghetti and go to bed. Was that too much to ask?
“Apparently, you’re in the middle of something big.”
“No, I am not,” she said carefully.
“Hear him out.”
“You set me up.”
He turned off the ignition and used the remote to close the garage door behind them. She made no move to get out of the car.