Page 21 of Dr. Do-Right
“What’s a few grand for an opportunity to have you all to myself for a few hours?”
The woman seated behind the table rifled through some papers and slid them across the table for us to sign. Mal watched carefully when I penned my signature with shaking hands.
“See? Now you’re contractually obligated to go on a date with me. I’ve locked you down, Kitten. No price could be too high.” He winked as he wrote in the checkbook.
I scoffed, like his ridiculous flirting didn’t affect me, when all I really wanted to do was haul him into the shrubbery and have my way with him. “Look at you, paying for dates and using a checkbook. How old are you, anyway? I’m going to start calling you Duck McScrooge.”
I peered over his shoulder just as he ripped the check off the pad, handing it to the woman face-down. He wasn’t fast enough. I’d seen all six figures on that check.
I gasped, eyes going wide. “Mal—”
“Rija! There you are. Quite a show you put on back there.” My mother,oh God, of all people, my MOTHER, strode up to the table. My back straightened, posture correcting automatically in some ridiculous Pavlovian response to her voice.
Mymotherwas here? I thought my parents were supposed to be at some conference in California. At least, that was the excuse she gave me when she’d informed me they weren’t available for dinner on my birthday. Not that I’d asked.
“You could have worn something less revealing tonight. Especially if you were going to make a spectacle of yourself,” she muttered, brushing a perfunctory kiss on my cheek before turning to beam at Mal. She fluffed her black, shoulder-length hair. It was graying, but you’d never know it. She paid her hair dresser good money to take that secret to the grave.
Her high-necked black gown accentuated her tiny waist. Small but mighty was mom’s M.O. Only a spine of steel could have kept up with my dad all these years and not let him run roughshod all over her. No, no. If my dad was the ladder-climber, mom was his spotter. Always on the lookout for the next opportunity. The next good connection. And now there was one right in front of her.
“Doctor Dobrev, Rosalia Sanchez. Such a pleasure to meet you.” She thrust her hand out to Mal. My mother, ladies and gentlemen. From chiding to charming in zero seconds, flat. How does she do it? A true wonder.
“Mrs. Sanchez.” Malachi took his time tucking his checkbook back into his suit. My mom stood there and waited the extra seconds, hand hanging in the air. Just when I thought he’d leave her like that forever, he grasped her fingers, then dropped them like she had a communicable disease.
“It’s an honor. I’m such a fan of your work,” she simpered.
I bit my lip to cover up a nervous laugh. She probably knew nothing about his work. But she knew he was famous, with apparently deep pockets.One. Hundred. Thousand. Damn.“I was looking forward to meeting you tonight. I didn’t realize you’d be here with my daughter. Marija, you should have told us you’d be here. Your father could have found a way to seat you at our table.”
Remarkable, honestly, how she made it sound like she wantedmeat her table. Everyone, probably even the lady at the settlement desk, knew who she really wanted at her table.
“I asked Rija to come with me, as my date.”
Good lord, Malachi sounded so cold. I was surprised my mom wasn’t frozen to the spot. She blinked, her gaze turning sharp.
“I see. I didn’t realize you and my daughter were so…close.”
I hadn’t given Sonia a hard time after it had taken her years to introduce me to Malachi. I understood the need to shelter the people you loved from the things that might pull you apart. In my case, my toxic-ass parents tended to chew people up and spit them back out again. It was why Sonia had only ever met them a handful of times, always in passing.
And why I had never, ever mentioned my relationship with Malachi to my parents.
“Mal is Sonia’s brother, Mama,” I supplied, keeping my response short. Sometimes that was best with her.
“And you’ve been friends for long?” Her stare honed into a needle prick of suspicion. Whenever she got her hands on me when Malachi wasn’t around, it was going to be death by a thousand stinging accusations. Why didn’t I tell them I was friends with a famous doctor? How long had this been going on? How could they use him to their greatest advantage?
“Friends, yes. Now, more.” Malachi slid his hand down my arm, landing at my hip.
My mother’s mouth popped open, eyes bugging.
“Rosa! There you are. People at the table are wondering where you got to.”
As if this moment couldn’t get any more awkward, my father rounded the corner. Dad’s tux looked a little snug around his barrel of a chest. Gray peppered his thick mustache and slicked-back hair. Where mom was petite, dad was a skyscraper.
He used to carry me on his shoulders when I was little, and I’d felt like the tallest person in the world. Safe. Untouchable. Larger than life. My dad in a nutshell.
“Ah.” His bluster dimmed when he saw me. Our relationship in a nutshell. “Marija. There you are. Quite the show you put on in front of a whole ballroom of my colleagues.” His attention veered to Malachi, and I was all but forgotten. “Ah, Dr. Dobrev! Carl Sanchez, wonderful to meet you. Heard you’re opening up a new clinic over on…”
“Wacker,” my mother supplied. Of course, she’d already know where his office was. She’d probably been very busy sleuthing tonight when Mal had popped up on her radar. “Right on the loop.”
“Swanky,” Dad chuckled, eyeing Mal, gauging his reaction.
