Page 25 of Dead Set on You
Rafael presses his lips together, working his jaw, and then, ever so slowly, his hand moves from the blanket to the hospital gown. I hold my breath, cringing at the reality that my legs haven’t been shaved for as long as I’ve been here.
With the speed of a three-toed sloth, he begins to lift the gown, muttering beneath his breath as he goes. When we can almost see the top of my thigh, the door to the room swings open.
CHAPTER SIXSEVEN DAYS AFTER, PART II
Rafael drops the gown and digs his hands into his pockets. Neither he nor I so much as breathe.
A doctor, her gray hair chopped into a stylish pixie cut, stands in the doorway to the room. Her dark eyes widen behind thick-rimmed glasses as her eyes dart between Rafael and my partly uncovered body on the bed.
“Hello,” she says, her voice slightly accented. “What are you doing here?”
“Dr. Wagner,” Rafael starts, shaking off his temporary shock with an apologetic smile. “I was … I thought it was warm in here … and her cheeks were a little flushed.” He gestures to the body, shrugging innocently. He’s transformed from a Horseman of the Apocalypse to an angel at the pearly gates. “I apologize if I’ve overstepped.”
The doctor’s frown smooths out into a kind smile. “It is normal for her to appear that way, Rafael.”
My jaw drops in surprise. “She knows you?”
Ever the gentleman, Rafael ignores me.
“How have you been?” The doctor lets the door slide closed behind her and ambles into the room, circling to the other side of the bed. She wears a striped dress beneath her lab coat and holds an iPad.
“You’ve been here before?” I lean close to his ear, shock making my voice squeak. Rafael flinches but doesn’t look my way. His silence is an answer that only piques my curiosity.
WhyisRafael here? Why does he know this doctor? Why is she so quick to ignore he’s in a patient’s room without the patient’s written, explicit permission? The last one’s an exaggeration, given my condition, but …howdoes Rafael get a pass?
I know the answer to this question too.
For all the reasons he gets them all the time. He can be friendly and charming. He wields an irresistible dimple and bedroom eyes. I can think of several reasons others have let him off the hook, so it shouldn’t surprise me thatthisdoctor is any less susceptible to the Vela effect.
“I’ve had better days, Doc,” he says, his eyes flicking to me for a nanosecond.
“It’s a difficult situation,” she says with sympathy. Features serious, she swipes across the iPad and looks up at the monitors beside the bed. I squint at the information—mostly numbers—but none of it means anything.
“Whatisthe situation?” I focus on my silent nemesis. “Besides the fact that I’m unresponsive in that bed, wearing that awful thing they have the nerve to call agown.”
Rafael groans beneath his breath, rubbing his scruffy jaw. This close, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him in this much disarray, not even that one other time I actually lost the Culture Jar and had to personally deliver a get-well basket from the team (no Dulcolax involved). It was the first time in years I’d stepped foot in his apartment. While there wasn’t any late-night client pitch prep, I did get to see Rafael out of his element. The flu had taken him out for an entire week, long enough for me to step in, nailone of his pitches, and even recruit someone—Dana wouldn’t let me get Gemma—from his team.
“You can always talk to me, Rafael. Tell me how you’re doing.” Dr. Wagner continues swiping across her iPad. I can’t help but scoff. Rafael is fine. It’s me we should all be worried about.
“Ask her about the … whatever she’s doing,” I say, craning my neck so I can see her notes.
“No.” Rafael turns his body so that his shoulder blocks me.
“Excuse me?” The doctor looks up from her device, leveling a questioning gaze at him.
“Um. I’m fine.” He clears his throat. “Just wondering about how Evie’s doing. Any changes?”
Finally.
I focus on the doctor, whose eyebrows knit over her prominent nose. “I’m sorry to say this, but there hasn’t been much of a change, not since the other day you checked in,” she says.
“The other day?” I narrow my eyes in suspicion. “How often have you been here? More importantly,why?”
“I understand.” Rafael pretends I’m not here.
“Well,Idon’t understand,” I hiss, positioning myself so I can peek over his shoulder. “So explain, Raffy Taffy.” His nostrils flare, but that’s all I get. Annoyance makes me lean in so close I could bite his ear.IfI were into that kind of stuff. “I’m not going to stop until you explain.”
“God!” Rafael snaps, startling the doctor. She eyes him warily over the rims of her glasses.
