The Writer's Baby Bear Read online

  It’s not a letdown, though. I work in an incredible office full of interesting people who are always teaching me new things. That’s one of the best things about working in a physician’s office: there’s never a shortage of new people to talk to. It’s hard to get bored when you’re always busy, anyway.

  Parking in back, I head into the little mountainside clinic.

  “Good morning, Alicia,” Heather calls out.

  “Morning,” I say back. I head to the break room, drop off my jacket and purse, and pocket my cell phone. I’m wearing dress pants and a blouse, but I made sure to invest in a pair of pants that has big, hefty pockets. Even if I don’t always have my cell phone on me, chances are I need the pockets for other stuff: keys, maybe, or my kid’s toys.

  When I get to the front desk, Heather is waiting for me with a list of charts and notes about our day. Heather is the office manager, and she does a great job. She’s basically in charge of making sure that everything runs smoothly in the office. She helps the doctors, nurses, and medical techs, as well as people like me.

  I’m the receptionist.

  I’m in charge of patient scheduling and handling questions that people have about their health. I also help with handling insurance and payments. My job keeps me busy, but I like it, and I feel lucky to have landed it when I did.

  Generally speaking, the clinic likes to hire people who have strong medical backgrounds. I don’t really have that. At least, I didn’t when I started, but the truth is that Betty had quite a say in how things happened around town, and when she found out I was pregnant with her grandson, the first thing she did was help me get a real job.

  I start looking over Heather’s notes for the day. It’s going to be a fairy quiet morning with only a few appointments, so I’m a little surprised when the bell over the front door jingles and someone walks in. Maybe they’re here to see if they can do a walk-in appointment.

  Only, I glance up to see Mr. Tall, Dark, and Dangerously Sexy.

  Mr. Tall, Dark, and Devastatingly Handsome.

  This guy is wearing tight jeans and a long-sleeved blue button down that’s hugging his body in all the right ways. Licking my lips, I open my mouth to ask if I can help him, but he pulls his shades off at the exact same time.

  And my heart feels like it’s going to explode.

  It’s him.

  It’s fucking him.

  Even though his body is different, and he somehow seems taller now, it’s him. I’d recognize those eyes anywhere: after all, they mirror the ones I look into every day when I hug my son good morning.

  “Alicia Benson,” he says coldly. “I believe there’s something we need to talk about.”

  “What are you doing here?” I say, biting my lip. I haven’t seen Cage Konstantin in five years. Not since that night...

  I’d be lying to myself if I tried to say I had never imagined him walking back into my life – our lives – but I never thought it would be like this.

  “I just told you,” he says, and his voice holds no kindness. There is no memory of what we did there, and there’s nothing gentle about the way he’s looking at me. Once upon a time, Cage liked me. I would have dared to say that he loved me, but that time is over.

  “This is my job,” I say, lowering my voice. “You can’t just leave, stay away for five years, and then walk back into my life and bother me at work.”

  “That’s exactly what I can do,” he says, and he walks over and places his hands on the counter in front of me.

  I’m not sure whether it’s the hushed tones or the hissing that draws Heather’s attention, but I know the physicians and medical team members are going to start arriving at any moment, and the last thing she needs is someone causing trouble in the front office before the doctors arrive.

  “Is everything okay out here?” She says, popping her head out. She looks from Cage to me and back again.

  “It’s fine,” Cage says.

  “No, it’s not,” I say. I keep my eyes focused on Cage. Five years ago, I was a scared little girl. I might have been 19 years old, and brave for my age, but things have changed. I’m not as weak as I was back then. I’m not as timid and I’m definitely not the kind of girl who is just going to brush off what Cage is doing because it wouldn’t be polite. “You need to leave. Now.”

  Cage looks surprised for just the tiniest fraction of a second. In fact, if I wasn’t staring into his eyes, I wouldn’t have noticed the way shock registered before being replaced with anxiousness and cruelty.

  “Sir, are you a patient?” Heather asks gently.

  “No,” he says, but he doesn’t move.

  “Then I’m going to have to ask you to leave the office.”

  Cage hesitates for just a moment. Then he pushes away from the counter and goes to the front door. He leaves, letting the door close behind him, and he never looks back.

  Not once.

  I haven’t seen that guy in five years, and he doesn’t look back.

  “Who the hell was that?” Heather asks.

  “An ex,” I whisper.

  “In the five years you’ve worked here, I’ve never once heard you talk about a boyfriend.”

  “That’s because we broke up before I started working here.”

  “He’s not...”

  “Yeah,” I whisper, swallowing hard. “He’s Orlando’s father, and he has no idea he’s got a kid.”

  Chapter Two

  Cage

  Going into her office was a stupid idea. I’m not really sure what got into me. My plan was simple: waltz into town, square up my mother’s affairs, and then leave before anyone ever noticed I was here.

  The problem is that things just weren’t that simple.

  I was shocked – shocked – to discover that my mother hadn’t left me a damn dime when she passed away. Every single asset she had was left to Alicia, and I have no idea why. The attorney couldn’t – or wouldn’t – tell me, and he seemed quite happy to see me leave his office.

  It didn’t take a lot of asking around Storm Haven to find out where Alicia works. It’s a small mountain town, which means sweet-talking goes a long way, and I’ve got a silver tongue. A couple of questions at the post office and just a few at the bakery, and I quickly found out that she works at the medical office in town.

  As I storm out to my car, I try to push the way she looked out of my mind. Damn, if time hasn’t been good to her. Those curves? Those beautiful curls? Her soft face? I don’t know if it’s possible, but I think Alicia has somehow managed to get even more beautiful than she was before, and something about that terrifies me.

  I reach the car and pull out of the parking lot. I need to get something to eat. Yeah, food will solve this problem. It has to. I don’t know what I’m going to do if it doesn’t. I don’t have a place to stay and I don’t have anywhere to be. I’ve got a week before I told my editor I’d be back at work, but even that is negotiable when you work from home. The reality is that I have my laptop and my notes about my latest book, so I can start working on my next project right from Storm Haven if I have to.

  I just hope that I don’t have to.

  The local diner is a small little dive, but it’s got some of the best food in town. At least, it did when I was a kid. I park and head inside, ducking my head under the bells and decorations hanging from the doorway.

  “Well, if it isn’t Cage Konstantin,” a familiar voice says. As my eyes adjust to the dim interior of the diner, I realize that Joyce Franklin is standing in front of me.

  “Joyce?” I whisper, surprised.

  “That’s right, kiddo. Now come over and give me a hug,” she laughs, opening her arms. Somehow, I’m instantly thrust into my childhood, and I scurry into the diner and wrap my arms around the little old woman who helped keep me sane when I was a kid.

  “How’d you know it was me?” I ask.

  “It’s only been a few years, honey.”

  “It’s been an eternity,” I correct her, but she waves her hand at me
, dismissing the idea.

  “That’s something young folk say,” Joyce tells me. “Once you get a bit older, five years feels like nothing. Nothing at all, you hear?”

  “Okay,” I smile. “I guess I’ll have to take your word for it.”

  “Table for one?” She asks.

  “Yep.”

  “You’ve got the place to yourself,” she says. “Grab a table and I’ll be right there.”

  She heads off behind the counter and I find myself moving to the end of the little row of booths. The second-to-last one was always the one I shared with Alicia, and somehow, I find myself sitting there. Only this time, I’m not flirting with the girl who stole my heart. This time, I’m wrapped up in loneliness and solitude, and the thought is completely sobering.

  Why had she reacted so poorly to seeing me?

  And why did my mother leave her everything?

  When I left town, I never imagined that my mother and Alicia would become friends. Never. Why would they? I knew that me running off would effectively break her heart, but I did it anyway. Now I’m dealing with the fallout, and I don’t really want to. I don’t want to think about the fact that my mom might have missed me or that I never reached out to her before she died.

  I don’t want to think about the fact that Alicia was there for her when I wasn’t.

  “Here you go,” Joyce slides a sticky menu on the table in front of me along with a glass of pink liquid.

  “You remembered,” I tell her, reaching for the strawberry lemonade.

  “I never forget a drink, kiddo.”

  “How have you been, Joyce?”

  “I really can’t complain,” she smiled. “I’ve got two grandkids now.”

  “No!”

  “Yep. Billy and Susan got married right after you left. They started poppin’ ‘em out right away. Now Angela’s thinking about getting married to Kevin Lee.”

  “Wow, congratulations.”

  “We’ll see what she ends up deciding. She’s on the fence, you know. She’s a little nervous. Marriage, I mean, it’s a big decision. Kevin’s a good boy, though, and he’ll be good to her. She could do a lot worse, but I don’t think she could do any better. He’s a sweetheart through and through.”

  “And what about you?” I ask her.

  For just a second, pain flashed in Joyce’s eyes, and I suddenly wish I hadn’t asked.

  “Richard died last year,” she says gently. “Heart attack.”

  “I’m sorry,” I tell her. “I didn’t know.”

  “Oh, I’m all right,” she says quickly. “At least, that’s what I tell myself every day, you know. Who knows whether it’s actually true or not?” She shakes her head. “When you’ve been married to someone for fifty years, you get attached, you know?”

  “I think that’s the idea.”

  “Oh, it’s supposed to be. Plenty of people hate their spouses and won’t leave. Plenty of people. Not me, though. Not me and Richard. The two of us,” she smiles, obviously lost in some sort of pleasant memory. “We were forever,” she tells me.

  “He was a good man.”

  “The best man.”

  “You were lucky to have him,” I tell her. “And he was lucky to have been loved by you.”

  “And what about you?”

  “What about me?”

  “Is there someone in your life?” She asks carefully. I know she’s already noticed my expensive clothing and the polished shoes. Joyce would never straight-up ask if I have money now, but it’s a little obvious. After I ran off with my dad, things changed for me, and I made a lot of decisions I probably shouldn’t have. Once I got squared up, though, well, things took a turn for the better.

  “No,” I tell her, deciding to be honest. I’m not really sure why. Most of the time, honesty doesn’t really pay. At least, that’s been my experience. When people say they value honesty, they rarely mean it. People value things like gentle lies. They don’t want to know that someone has had a hard time, or that their relationships have been impossible, or that they’re still obsessing over lost love. “No one for me.”

  “You know,” Joyce says, considering me. “Alicia is still single.”

  “Why would you tell me that?” I bristle.

  Joyce just shrugs.

  “You two were quite the hot item, once upon a time.”

  “That was a long time ago.”

  “Maybe,” Joyce says. “But I know she hasn’t stopped thinking about you.”

  “You do? Did she say that?” I shouldn’t be asking for more information. I shouldn’t be getting excited or worked up over this, but I am. I totally, completely am. She misses me? Is there any chance she actually said those words to Joyce?

  “She didn’t have to,” Joyce says gently. Then she taps the menu. “And as much as I’d love to get caught up, I’ve got a diner to clean before the lunch rush comes in. Can I get you anything?”

  “Pancakes with bacon?” I ask hopefully, not bothering to open the menu.

  Joyce smiles and pulls the menu away.

  “Some things never change,” she smiles, and as she walks away, I wonder what she meant about Alicia. Why does she think Alicia never got over me? Why does she think that I should talk to her?

  The truth is that I completely fucked Alicia over. We slept together and then I left. It was kind of a big deal. It wasn’t that I left because we slept together. I’d been planning on leaving the entire time. I just never told her. I never bothered to because...well, because it was her. It was her and it was me and I didn’t want anything to ruin the magic I thought we shared.

  For the last five years, I’ve thought about her. I’ve considered calling her so many times, but I never worked up the nerve. What would I even say?

  “Hey, sorry I gave you my virginity and then ran away?”

  That would be so stupid.

  Too stupid.

  Nope.

  It was better that I left things the way they were: as nothing. Besides, I didn’t plan on coming back to town ever. Mom passing away wasn’t something I planned on. Her death came as a huge surprise to me. After all, she was still fairly young. It doesn’t seem fair that death claimed her, stealing her away from the world.

  Then again, it isn’t really fair that I never explained to her why I did what I did.

  Why I went with him.

  Why I didn’t look back.

  My mother and I never really got along. She always wanted a daughter – not a son – and she made that very clear to me. Maybe it was because my older sister passed away before I was born. Maybe it was because she always hoped I’d heal that place in her heart. I don’t know. All I know is that my entire life, I felt like I wasn’t good enough for her, and I felt like she’d rather have anyone else as a child but me.

  Leaving with my dad, as terrible as he was, had felt right. He had given me a way out of my mom’s world. He’d given me a chance to explore a new place and live a new life and make decisions for myself.

  He’d given me a chance.

  And now I was back.

  “Order up,” Joyce says. I didn’t even notice her coming back with the food. She slides the place of steaming pancakes and bacon onto the table. I notice she’s added a side of eggs to the platter, too, which makes me happier than it should. Okay, so Joyce really never forgets, does she.

  “It looks amazing.”

  “Made with love,” she tells me.

  “Thank you.”

  “You were gone for a long time,” Joyce says, thoughtfully. She puts a hand on her hip and leans over a little. “What were you doing, Cage? Where’d you go?”

  “Is that the burning question?”

  “Pretty much. You basically ran off without a trace. You didn’t even say goodbye to anyone, kiddo. Not your mama, not your girl.” Then, to my horror and devastation, she adds, “And not to me.”

  And that’s the moment I realize that me leaving town without a backwards glance didn’t just affect Alicia and Mom.

  I
t affected a community.

  Joyce really was always there for me. She always cut me deals and discounts when I was a teenager. She probably shouldn’t have, but she was constantly sliding me free deals or “forgetting” to put stuff on my check. She saved my ass a lot of times when I was up late studying for tests or worried about girls. She was always available to help me with my homework when I sat in that second-to-last booth in the diner.

  And she always, always believed in me.

  “My dad needed me,” I tell her.

  “I thought that might be it,” Joyce says carefully. I know she knew my dad. At least, she did, once upon a time.

  “He asked me to go with him, and I did. My mom...”

  “Your mom had her own battles,” Joyce says.

  “She never wanted me,” I whisper.

  “Now, Cage, we’ve had this talk a million times. Your mama wanted you. She loved you so much, Cage, but she was hurting, too.”

  “She didn’t need to take it out on me.”

  “Nope, she didn’t,” Joyce agrees. “And honestly, she should have spoken with a therapist long ago. It might have helped save your relationship.”

  “She talked to a therapist after I left?”

  “Oh yeah,” Joyce nods. “A couple of weeks after you left, your mama decided it was time to make some changes in her life. She knew she couldn’t keep going on the way she had been, so she set up an appointment and started seeing a doctor who could help her work through her grief. See, when you left, Cage, your mama felt like it was losing a child all over again. She hadn’t been very kind of understanding with you. No, not at all. Still, when you walked away, her grief wrapped around her and it threatened to smother her. She had no choice but to seek help, and we’re all so proud of her that she did.”

  Joyce pats my shoulder, and I see that there are tears in her eyes. How hard must it have been to watch her friend suffer? How hard was it to see my mom in pain? For years, I only thought about myself, I realize. I knew that my mom and Alicia would both be a little sad to see me go, but I also thought they’d get over it pretty quickly.

  “I’ve gotta get back to work, kiddo,” Joyce says. The bells chime as the front door opens, and she smiles at me. “But oh, I’m glad you’re back.” On a whim, she plants a motherly kiss on my forehead, and I squeeze her hand before she waltzes to the front of the diner to greet her newest patrons.