Page 63 of Fourteen of a Kind

I took down two plates and placed two slices of pizza on each.

“Here you go.” I handed Ella a plate.

“Thanks.”

Taking our plates and drinks over to the table, we sat down and talked.

“How was your day today?” she asked.

“It was good. Dr. Ashley and I had three surgeries. One was a six-year-old little girl with a bad gallbladder.”

“Wow. At six?” Her brows furrowed.

“Yeah. Poor kid.”

“That guy with the gunshot wound was a little more difficult than I anticipated,” she said. “It was wedged in?—”

“You know what? Let’s not talk about work.” I cut her off. “We’ve both put in a full day, and I don’t think talking about our surgeries is very relaxing.”

“Sure. Okay.”

My phone rang, and when I pulled it from my pocket, I saw that my Aunt Dorinda was calling. I declined the call.

“You’re not going to answer that?”

“Nah. It’s just my Aunt Dorinda. I’ll call her tomorrow.”

“Tell me about her.” Ella’s lips formed a smile. “You said she was your dad’s sister?”

“Yeah. She’s an attorney. She and my uncle own a large law firm in Manhattan. Unfortunately, he passed away a few years ago.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Thanks.” I smiled. “He was a good man and a good attorney. So is my aunt. She’s highly respected and a powerful woman.”

“I’d love to meet her sometime.” Ella smiled.

“Yeah. Maybe.”

We finished our pizza and took our plates to the sink. Suddenly, a loud boom startled me, and my heart started racing.

“Graham, are you okay?” Ella placed her hand on my arm.

“That sounded like a gunshot.” I could feel the air constricting my lungs.

Ella walked over to the window. “It’s just fireworks.”

Again, another loud boom startled me.

“Who the fuck is setting off fireworks in the middle of May, for fuck’s sake?” I shouted. “Jesus Christ!”

“Graham, it’s okay.”

“No, Ella, it’s not!” I shouted. “It’s illegal!” I gripped the island's edge to try and calm down, focusing on my breathing. Once my heart rate slowed, I slightly turned my head and looked at Ella, who stood there staring at me. “I’m sorry.” I walked over and wrapped my arms around her. “I hate fireworks.”

“It’s okay,” she said, softly rubbing my back.

“No. I shouldn’t have shouted at you like I did. It’s just—” I broke our embrace and stared into her beautiful eyes.

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