Page 11 of Sleeping with the Frenemy

“Leo,” she breathed. She leaned forward as if about to step into his body. Like she was a magnet and he was the fridge.

He stepped back, breaking the connection. “Because it seems like you didn’t. It seems like you went off and had yourself a grand adventure. So much so that when I was shot, you didn’t even come see me in the hospital. You didn’t pick up the phone to call me. Shit, you didn’t even send me a text. All I got from you was one fucking email wishing me a speedy recovery like I’m some random-ass coworker you share small talk with during your break.” He didn’t even mention that she’d promptly blocked him afterward, because every message he tried to send kept getting shot back and labeled as undeliverable. He shook his head. “Well, don’t worry. I get it. It took my stupid ass fifteen years, but I get it. I’m nothing to you. I’m just your venue contact for the reception. That’s fine with me.” He walked past her, careful to make sure no part of them touched, and he walked out the door with his head held high, his shoulder throbbing, and his heart twisting itself into a knot.

3

Sofi sat on her balcony enjoying her view of the Eiffel Tower with a glass of truly incredible wine. It had been a few weeks and she still couldn’t believe this was her life. She was finally in Paris, living in a cute apartment and exploring all the places she’d dreamed of since she was a kid. The best part was that she was going to be here for months—plenty of time to soak in the city.

On the table her open laptop began to ring. She knew who it was without even having to look. Her mother called her at this time every single day. Sofi set down her wine and grabbed her laptop. She placed it on her lap and hit Accept. “Bonjour, Mami,” she said as soon as her mother’s face popped up on her screen.

“Negrita.” Her mom sighed her nickname in relief as if she wasn’t sure Sofi would answer.

Sofi always answered. Her mother was her other half. She was the kinder, more forgiving, and selfless Ying to Sofi’s Yang. She missed her mom like crazy, so she answered every single call, text, and email. Shit. Sofi would send carrier pigeons if she could only figure out how to train one of the few hundred she saw on a daily basis.

“Are you busy?” her mom asked. Behind her tired but beautiful face, Sofi could see the bright sun reflecting off the windows of the hospital. Her mom liked to eat lunch outside when the weather permitted.

“I’m supposed to be memorizing my presentation for tomorrow, but I got distracted by the view and my wine.” Sofi reached over and picked up her glass to show her mom. “Do you want to see what I’m seeing?” She didn’t wait for her mom to answer, she turned the laptop so she could also enjoy the sight of the lit-up Eiffel Tower peeking out from above the neighboring buildings.

Her mom’s voice came from the speakers. “It’s so beautiful.”

Sofi turned the laptop around so she could see her mom’s face. “I can’t wait for you to come visit. You’re going to love it.”

Her mom smiled again. Her mother was a beautiful woman with light brown skin, high and naturally pink cheekbones, dark brown eyes with long lashes, and dimples so deep she didn’t even have to smile for them to be seen. But Sofi loved it when she did smile. It reminded Sofi of the pictures she had of when her mom was young and smiled all the time. These days she was constantly stressed, exhausted, and barely smiled. Sofi was determined to change that.

“I’m excited,” she said. “I just got my passport in the mail and the hospital approved my days off.”

“They had better,” Sofi said around the glass before taking another sip of wine. “You never use your vacation days and you’re always picking up extra shifts.”

She wouldn’t call her mom a workaholic, but she was definitely a hard worker. When Sofi was a kid, she’d held multiple jobs while also going to nursing school. Due to many setbacks, it had taken her mom years to finally finish her degree, but, once she had, she’d never slowed down. She always said that single moms didn’t really have any other choice unless they were going to live off the state and she wasn’t going to do that.

“I just picked up another one,” her mom said.

Sofi shook her head. “Why? I know you get attached to your patients and want to be there for them, but you’re burning yourself out. You need to take care of yourself, Mom.”

Her mom looked away, her expression troubled and unsure.

Sofi’s stomach flipped. She put down her wine. “What?” she asked.

Her mom looked back at her. “Huh?”

Sofi shook her head. “Don’t even try that. Something is wrong. Tell me what it is. Are you okay? Is it Abuela Fina?”

“No. No. We’re fine. It’s nothing like that.”

“What is it, then?”

Her mom sighed. “I don’t know if I should tell you.”

Sofi sat up straight. “You can’t say that and not tell me. What is it?” she demanded.

“Leo Vega is here.”

That wasn’t totally unheard of. He’d gotten hurt a few times in his line of work, but it was never that serious. “Did he get hurt at work again?”

She shook her head. “He was shot last night. He got out of surgery a few hours ago, but, Sofi, he coded on the table.”

Suddenly Sofi felt like the wine she’d drunk had gone straight to her head. Everything spun and she felt like she was falling. She could hear her mom talking, trying to explain what happened, but Sofi couldn’t really focus on any of that.

She stood with the laptop and stumbled into her apartment, oblivious to the light herringbone floors, original detailed crown molding, and antique marble fireplace she usually admired. She bypassed it all to go right into her bedroom. She dropped the computer on her bed and rushed to her closet.

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