Page 57 of Second Act
A spear of jealousy sank itself into her chest. “Did she really notice that you looked tired? I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I used it as an excuse to avoid her plan to sightsee around Boston.”
“You didn’t want to see the Old North Church, where Paul Revere hung his lanterns? It’s very historic.”
“If you’d be my tour guide, I would happily view it.”
Jessica couldn’t stop a satisfied smile from curling her lips. “We could visit Plimoth Plantation, too, and see how the Pilgrims lived.”
“I draw the line at bad actors pretending to be—” Jessica’s cell phone emitted an electronic claxon that made Hugh flinch. “What the hell is that?”
She was already yanking it out of her bag. “A medical emergency. I have to call my service. Can you ask the driver to head for the clinic?”
She hit the speed dial for her answering service to find out that a cat she’d spayed the day before had ripped out her stitches and was bleeding from the wound. She told the owners to meet her at the clinic so she could resuture the incision.
“What’s the problem?” Hugh asked.
“The main one? Cats are jerks,” she said with a laugh before she explained the issue. “Now I’ve got to decide which one of my vet techs to roust out of bed to assist.”
“Does it require a trained professional or just an extra set of hands?” He held up his hands like a surgeon who’d just scrubbed in.
“You want to help with cat surgery? This isn’t like playing a doctor in a movie. It involves real blood and guts. Well, hopefully not guts, unless the problem is worse than I think it is.” She scrolled down to Caleb’s number.
“You know I’m not afraid to get my hands dirty.” He sounded pissed off and something else. Insulted? Hurt?
She lowered her phone. A willing helper was all she needed. “Since I know you can take direction, I will accept your generous offer. Caleb will be grateful, since you’ve saved him a midnight trip to the clinic.”
He nodded, and she caught the look of satisfaction on his face in the glow of the streetlights. “How do you know I can take direction?”
“Because your appearance at the clinic made an impression on Carla. She’s been reading up on you—and sharing it with me.” Jessica had listened, fascinated by the information her office manager had tracked down on the internet.
“My apologies.”
“No, it makes for very entertaining lunch conversation, especially when it’s contradictory. One question I could lay to rest for her was whether you are gay or not. Of course, I couldn’t rule out bi.”
Hugh snorted out a laugh. “That was from years ago. I can’t remember how that rumor got started.”
“Well, it seemed at direct odds with the orgy of supermodels you supposedly participated in at some Las Vegas hotel. Although I suppose some of the supermodels could have been guys.” She chuckled. “As far as I can tell, the only thing you haven’t done is been kidnapped by aliens.”
He didn’t laugh this time. “That doesn’t happen anymore, Jess, I swear. The PR people at my agency are very savvy. They make sure none of the gossip rags steps over the line with any really libelous stories.”
“I didn’t believe any of it,” Jessica said, surprised at his intensity. “I know it’s just made up to sell papers.”
“It’s foul and unsavory. I don’t blame you for not wanting to be dragged through the mud like that.”
She realized that he was thinking about their past together. “That wasn’t why I—”
The car came to a stop and the driver interrupted her. “We’re here.”
