Mariah: The M Series: Book Two Read online

  I sighed, accepting that my conscience was right. We’re better off alone.

  Lying down in bed, I thought of Cerulean, uh… Dr. Alexander, as I stared at the empty side of the bed. and wondered what he was doing at that moment.

  Probably making love to his fiancée, idiot.

  “Sometimes you can be a royal pain in my ass,” I muttered to my conscience. I jerked the never used pillow toward me, cuddled it and forced myself to fall to sleep.

  Chapter Four

  Will or Marcus? Hmm…

  The weekend flew by in a flash. My mom only called me three times, once on Friday and twice on Saturday while Lisa and I were with some friends of hers and we had a ball.

  Friday, we had dinner then hit the best club I’d been to and proceeded to have way too much to drink. With the same friends, we went on a picnic on Saturday, followed by Frisbee, volleyball and touch football. After, everyone went home to rest, shower and change for more clubbing that night. As soon as we sat on our couch to relax, Lisa received a text, replied and jumped up mumbling something about meeting with another friend. She kissed my cheek and said she'll be back in an hour and left.

  When she returned, she said we had to go to this club her friend insisted was the place to be on a Saturday night. She had already spoken with her other friends and they agreed to meet us there, so I agreed to go.

  I danced with a guy who was very good looking and quite frisky. I had to redirect his hands several times. I thought I saw Cerulean sitting in a dark corner glaring daggers at us. I turned away and shook my head. When I looked back, no one was there and I immediately chastised myself for fantasizing about an engaged man.

  Thinking my conscience loves to play tricks on me, I sat down and ignored the handy-man for the rest of the night. Lawyer or not, he was way too much for me.

  Lisa and I slept late Sunday morning, taking advantage of the last morning we would get to sleep-in for five days. Getting home at three a.m. helped with that.

  Sunday afternoon, Mom called my cell while we were at the salon to inform us there will be other guests there because of the merger, so the evening had switched from family night to semi-formal. We went shopping and I chose a lavender sheath dress, belted with a wide, suede purple belt and matching suede purple pumps. After we got home, showered and changed, I applied some mascara and tinted lip gloss. I fluffed my freshly straightened hair and stepped back to take a good look at myself in the full-length mirror. I only saw my burn.

  “You look beautiful, Cookie,” Lisa said quietly.

  She was standing in my bedroom just to my right and I never heard her come in, as I was so intent on staring at my burn. She's wearing a red pencil skirt, with a white silk blouse and red heeled sandals, her hair piled on top of her head and loose tendrils at her ears. She was breathtaking.

  Seeing her made me feel inadequate and I sighed as I looked in the mirror again. It was the end of June, hot as ever, and I stood there, considering throwing on a sweater. Lisa read my thoughts again.

  “No sweater,” Lisa said, with authority.

  “Are you my mother or my sister,” I asked her, irritatingly.

  She frowned. “I'm your sister and your friend. You're letting that burn mark take control and you shouldn't. You don't need to hide it, it's there whether it's covered or not. You have nothing to be ashamed of.” She puts her head on my shoulder and linked our arms. “Please trust me,” she murmured, looking at my face in the mirror.

  I relented. “Okay. No sweater.”

  Lisa beamed at me. “Good. Let's go. Pops sent a car.”

  * * *

  We arrived at the mansion and immediately knew why a car was sent. The drive was littered with cars and a couple of limos. We both took a deep breath, giggled, and walked into the party, arm in arm. Pops spotted Lisa and me, first.

  “Twinkie! Cookie! How are my beautiful girls,” he asked loudly and kissed our cheeks.

  Mom reaches us next, walking swiftly with a slight scowl. “Thomas, please,” she whispered.

  “What,” he smiling asked, feigning confusion.

  “They're grown women; you can’t call them that in front of guests,” she sighed, then smiled at us. “Hello, girls, you both look beautiful.”

  “Thank you, Mom. And I think they know those aren't our legal names,” I teased.

  She beamed brighter and kissed us. “Come, mingle with your father.”

  Lisa and I each took one of Pops' arms and he led us to greet Lil and her husband, Caspar. He then introduced the three new hospital board members, their spouses and three new practice doctors, specialists for psychiatry, radiology, and plastic surgery.

  Last, we met Dr. and Mrs. Stephen Cannon, parents of Joshua and the new clinic partners. After introductions, Pops excused himself and left us with them.

  Lisa smiled. “Dr. and Mrs. Cannon, a pleasure to see you both, again. We ran into Joshua and Mandy on Thursday afternoon at Cavatappi.”

  Mrs. Cannon brightened at the mention of her son and almost daughter-in-law. “Yes, Joshua mentioned it. I'm looking forward to seeing the two of you at the wedding as well as the festivities next weekend.”

  I smiled and I extended my hand to Dr. Cannon as Lisa and Mrs. Cannon continued talking. “Pleasure to meet you, Dr. Cannon.”

  He took my hand in both of his and warmly smiled, his blue eyes twinkled. “Mariah. What a beautiful name for a beautiful woman! I understand you'll be a float nurse with us.”

  He's English... and very charming. That accent combined with his baritone voice was intoxicating. He looked lean in his gray three-piece suit, white shirt and charcoal tie. He had brown hair that was graying at the sides and temples and was probably an inch shorter than Cerulean... Dr. Alexander...

  Damn it, you’re thinking about him again! Stop that, now! ENGAGED!

  I swallowed hard. “Yes, I am. I start tomorrow, actually.”

  “Wonderful. I hope you're able to float to my office soon, I'd love to work with you.”

  “I hope so, too, Dr. Cannon. What is your specialty?”

  He was still smiling. “Internal medicine, love.”

  “Great,” I smiled. “I'm looking forward to working for you soon.”

  He smiled brighter and glanced toward the stunning woman next to him. “May I introduce my wife, Katherine? Lovey, this is Mariah.”

  Mrs. Cannon was about my height and thin. She had black hair peppered with white that hit her shoulders in a very coiffed style. No wind would dare blow that hair.

  She was in a beautiful blue dress, long and flowing, highlighting her eyes, which were baby blue, beautiful and shining. She exuded warmth and power, like someone who was gentle but could be stern when need be, like Miss Helen’s nature. I warmed at that thought and took an instant liking to Mrs. Cannon. I smiled brightly at her and offered her my hand. She, too, takes my hand in both of hers.

  “Mariah, how wonderful to finally meet you, dear, dear girl.”

  “It's wonderful to meet you, as well, Mrs. Cannon.”

  She looked as if she was about to cry. I tightened my grip on her hand and my other hand rested on her forearm.

  “Are you all right, Mrs. Cannon,” I asked, softly.

  She smiled and searched my eyes. “Yes, darling, I’m great. Never better. Please tell me... are you enjoying California?”

  “Yes, I am. It's been wonderful so far. Very fresh and relaxing.”

  “Good. So no pangs about leaving Chicago? Thinking of staying with us for a while?”

  I smiled big. “No pangs, Mrs. Cannon. I'm here to stay.”

  “Good, very good,” she murmured, then she stared again, continuing to hold my hand. After what seemed like an eternity, she released a deep breath and whispered, “Yes... yes I can see why.”

  She patted, then squeezed my hand. I frowned. What did that mean?

  Dr. Cannon touched my arm, getting my attention. “Mariah, my wife and I will be hosting a cocktail party on the second; a sort of mingle with the out o
f town guests, pre-fourth celebration, if you will. We'd love for you and your sister to attend. I believe your parents are attending, as well.”

  I smiled. “Thank you, Dr. Cannon. I'd love to attend. Lisa, Dr. Cannon has invited us to a pre-fourth celebration on the second.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Cannon. I look forward to attending,” Lisa accepted with a smile.

  “I'm looking forward to it, too,” I assured, still smiling. I really liked these people. I thought of Nathan and said, “Oh, but we have a friend flying in on the first. Would you mind if we asked him as well?”

  “Of course, love. The more the merrier.” He smiled again and dropped his hand.

  “Everyone, dinner is served,” Pops voice rang out as he walked to my mother. “Rachel, my love?” He smiled and held out a hand to her.

  Mom smiled back and took his hand. He wrapped it around his arm then Lisa linked our arms and we followed everyone to the dining room.

  * * *

  After dinner, in the large sitting room, I sat in a wing chair in front of the fireplace with my legs crossed, lazily gazing around the room while sipping a glass of brandy. Lisa was animatedly chatting with the Cannons and she had their undivided attention.

  Dr. William Wexler, the new plastic surgery associate, walked over and sat in the wing chair at my right. He was, at least, six-three and very athletic-looking; like he knew his way around any ball court you put him on. He had engaging chocolate brown eyes and was the color of caramel, like me, and his hair was cut close to his head. He wore a blue suit jacket and pants, no tie, and an open-at-the-neck light blue shirt. He had a diamond stud in his left ear. Very, very handsome. Still... he was no Dr. Cerulean.

  Shit... there he is again! Stop that!

  “We meet again, Mariah,” Dr. Wexler said, once he settled in his seat.

  I smiled. “Hello again, Dr. Wexler.”

  “Will, please.”

  I chuckled. “No, I couldn't. I may be floated to you one day and I can’t slip up and address you as Will in front of patients.”

  He fisted his chin and charmingly smiled. “I insist. I don't care what you call me in front of patients, or anyone else for that matter.”

  He gave me a look of... longing? Want? Whatever it was, it was kind of nice... sweet, even.

  “If you insist. Will,” I murmured, acquiescing.

  His throat cleared. “So… you've only been here a couple of months. How are you liking the area?”

  I smiled. “I think it's great. Fun. I've been getting to know the city pretty well.”

  He cocked his head and lowered his voice. “Are you seeing anyone, Mariah?”

  I saw where this is going. I took a sip of brandy then answered, “No, I'm not.”

  “Okay, good.” His face erupted in a big, toothy grin. “We have a lot in common.”

  “Oh, do we?”

  “Absolutely. We are both from the Chicago area, we're both mixed-race and we're both starting new jobs tomorrow.”

  I smiled at him, intrigued. “What are your nationalities?”

  “My dad is Jamaican, Mom is Mexican.”

  “I see. It's fitting that you'd be the first to address it. No one ever does.”

  “No, and they won't.” He leaned closer and whispered, “It's considered bad taste, politically incorrect to acknowledge. Best to see the person, not the ethnicity, or in our cases, ethnicities. I really think there are a rare few here that care about that stuff.”

  “Oh. Right. Got it,” I said, nodding. “Do you speak Spanish?”

  “Not much, just the basics. Hello and such.”

  I grinned. “I do. I learned it in high school.”

  “My father didn't want me to learn it and I haven't regretted that decision until this very moment,” he murmured.

  I smiled shyly. Or maybe I blushed. We sat a moment, panning the room, with me noting my conscience was awfully quiet.

  I grew curious about the charming Dr. Wexler. “What area are you from, Will? In Chicago.”

  He smiled, pleased I used his shortened name. “South side, the Hyde Park area first, then to South Holland. My parents and I moved to California when I started college at Stanford. We've been here since.”

  “I've never been to South Holland but I had a great-aunt in Hyde Park. She died the year after my dad.”

  He turned to face me, then took a sip of his drink as he studied my face. “What was her last name, Mariah?”

  “Same as mine, Hollander.”

  Will's face brightened. “Are you talking about Miss Mattie?

  “Yes,” I grinned.

  “We lived five houses down from her. She used to be an awful flirt with the neighborhood men, especially my father.”

  My eyes widened, then I laughed. He knew my great-aunt, my grandfather's sister. My mom used to say the same thing about her.

  “Mom says it was to get them to do her yard work and house repairs for free.”

  He laughed. “Yeah. Come to think of it, my dad did disappear with his tool box for a while, occasionally. He never came back hungry. Guess she fed him after he fixed something.” He shifted closer toward me. “So, Miss Mariah Hollander, what area are you from?”

  “We lived in Evanston and I graduated from UIC.”

  “Harrison Street?”

  “Yes!” I smiled again, glad he knew the area.

  He charmingly smiled back. “I did some pre-med classes there during senior year in high school.”

  Very small world.

  “Which high school?”

  “Seton Academy, class of 1995,” he stated, proudly. “You?”

  “Evanston Township, 2003,” I answered, just as proud. I fought hard and worked my ass off to catch up with my class after the absence I had to take while suffering from migraines as Miss Helen’s illness became terminal.

  “Nice. So you're... twenty-six?”

  “Almost.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “How soon?”

  “July fifteenth.”

  He grinned and put his hand on his chest. “July seventeenth.”

  “No way,” I exclaimed.

  He showed me his driver's license. I laughed loudly at yet another coincidence.

  “Your laugh... that is a great sound.”

  “Thank you.” I blushed and took another sip of the brandy. My, my…

  “I'd like to show you something of the area and perhaps dinner, after.”

  I looked at him. “Excuse me?”

  He stared straight into my eyes. “I'm asking you for a date, Mariah,” he said softly.

  “Oh.”

  I set my glass on the table between us. I looked up, about to accept but then I noticed Will and I had the room’s attention. Lisa was scowling at me with her arms crossed over her chest, her right foot tapping the floor. She crossed that huge room in four seconds, flat.

  “Please excuse us, Dr. Wexler,” she said as she snatched my wrist and yanked me out of my seat, pulling me away without waiting for a response from Will, and quickly led me to the foyer.

  “What was that,” she demanded, pointing her thumb behind her.

  “What was what,” I asked, trying to sound obtuse.

  She scowled at me as she placed her hands on her hips. “'What was what?' You and Dr. Yummy-Face in there, that's what! He looked like he was about to take you in the middle of the room!”

  “Twink, come on! We were just talking.”

  “What was that flirty laugh, then?”

  “It wasn't flirty, it was nothing. He said something funny. What is the big deal?”

  “It's not right for you to flirt with him, that's all. You don't know him,” she informed quietly.

  I immediately tensed. “Is he married?”

  “No.”

  “Engaged?”

  “Not that I'm aware of.”

  “Is he seeing someone?”

  “I don't know,” Lisa answered, exasperated.

  I relaxed. “Then what is the problem, Twink?”

&nb
sp; “I just don't think he's right for you. There is someone else out there for you.”

  I licked my lips. “Is that right?”

  She glared at me. “Cookie, come on. He's dangerous. Yes, he has talent in an operating room, but he has a reputation with young women and I think you should stay away. He is a total player and takes no mercy. Once he gets what he wants, he's gone. I just don't want you hurt.”

  “You must be talking about William Wexler.”

  We startled and Lisa turned her head in the direction of that voice, but I didn't need to. I knew exactly who it belonged to. My nipples and everything below my waist stood at attention, just from his voice alone.

  A deep frown crossed my brow. When did he get there? Was I so enthralled with Will that I didn't see him enter? No, that was not possible. I'd know exactly when Marcus Alexander was in the room if I were blindfolded.

  I finally turned his way. Marcus was wearing a tan trousers with a black shirt. His hair looked freshly washed and shining, a gorgeous black. He looked… delicious. I wanted to bite him, even though he was glaring at me.

  No, we want him to bite us.

  I inwardly shuddered at that thought, because it was fucking true.

  He moved his hands to his waist. “Is it Wexler,” he demanded, so softly but his eyes were burning. I'd never seen anyone that angry but controlled. It was frightening and very exciting. I remained quiet, but not Lisa.

  “Yes, Dr. Alexander. He’d been flirting with her most of the night.”

  His eyes flashed ice cold. “I see. I'd like a moment with your sister, Lisa,” he snapped, those eyes never leaving mine as he approached me.

  I smirked. Ha! Fat chance, Doctor!

  I turned my head to tell Lisa we should go back into the party and all I saw was the back of her head as she walked away. What the hell? I put my hand to my neck and rubbed, stepping back. Marcus stepped closer, continuing the cold glare.

  “What are you doing with Wexler,” he bit out.

  I remembered thinking, I must’ve heard him wrong.

  Nope, I heard the same thing.

  Still, I had to ask him to repeat that shit.