Page 4 of Surprise Quadruplets for the Mob

“Right. Of course.” I still can’t help but grin back at her. “We’ll just take it one step at a time.”

Some high-stakes donors approach her then and she turns towards them, but I excuse myself before she introduces me, taking myself outside for some fresh air. I’m happy for my sister—really, truly happy—but I still need a minute to digest the news and what it means for me, particularly since I’ve just started my treatments. Do I stop now? Keep them going just in case anything happens to this new miracle? My mind is racing with worst case, best case, and every unlikely case scenario in between, and I pause to lean against the low, ornate sandstone wall that surrounds the patio outside the doors.

“Beautiful night, isn’t it?” A deep voice with a mild but distinctly Russian accent interrupts my thoughts. A distinctly sexy Russian accent, I have to admit.

I look over to see a tall, masked man standing nearby. His dark suit looks expensive and is perfectly tailored to his muscular body. Between the accent, the body, and the confidently sexy smirk he’s giving me, my curiosity is piqued. My body is reacting, too. Totally blaming it on the hormones.

“Sorry,” I say, extending a hand to shake. “It’s hard to tell with these masks on, but I don’t think we’ve met.”

“Alec.” His big hand covers mine in a firm grip. “Pleased to meet you, Miss Foxworthy.”

That’s the downside to organizing the fundraiser—everyone knows our names even if we don’t know theirs.

I gaze up at him, noticing that his eyes are a warm green behind his half-mask, and find myself curious. I can see the perfectly groomed black hair, the chiseled jaw with just a hint of stubble, the straight nose and softly smiling lips below…but with half his face hidden, I can’t help but feel I’m only seeing half ofhim.

“Please call me Abby,” I say, still holding onto his hand. Still enjoying the warmth of his touch. “Might be easier to talk if we take off our masks.”

“Might be.” He gives a half shrug, clearly not rising to my bait. Is it so bad that I want to get a better look at him? “But I kind of like the mystery, don’t you?”

“Well, if you won’t give me even a little peek…” I let that hang in the air before nodding, and leaving my own silver mask where it is. “Then yeah, I guess the mystery is also fun. Although it seems a bit unfair that you know exactly who I am, but I only get a peek at you.”

He laughs. “Revealing too much might get us both in trouble. You might not want to associate with a man like me, and I would much rather keep you in conversation a little longer.”

I’m not sure whether I should laugh along with him or be on guard. Surely he’s just playing around with the whole ‘mysterious stranger’ thing, but something about the way he says it makes me side-eye him for a moment.

“That’s a bit dramatic,” I finally say with a smile and a raised eyebrow. I decide we’re playing, because it seems a little unlikely that he’s an escaped convict or anything like that, and I turnto lean a hip against the wall and stare at him more directly. “You’re not dangerous, are you?”

“Not to you, no.”

For some reason a little shiver goes down my spine, and I’m not sure if it’s a warning intuition or a shiver of arousal as his soft, well-shaped lips pull into another slow smile.

“I admire what you and your sister are doing,” he says before I can figure out how to reply to that, and he leans his own hip against the wall in a mirror of my casual stance. “Your cause means a great deal to me.”

I blink. “Really? That’s surprising. I mean,” I pause and shake my head. God, what am I saying? Did those words just come out of my mouth? “Sorry, no. That’s not what I meant. Not surprising. Just, um…”

His charming smile grows a little wider behind his mask. “I understand. But yes, my childhood friend died from ARPKD.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.”

“It was a long time ago. Sasha and I were close—more like brothers or cousins, really—and I still think about him often. Especially on occasions like this one.”

“I’m sure Sasha would be grateful for what you’re doing,” I say quietly, knowing what it is to lose someone close. “And thank you for your donation.”

He shrugs. “I figure I should do at least some good with my money. In the end, though, it’s just a number. You, however… You provide hope when all seems lost. You’ve dedicated your life to something good, something helpful. It is an incredible thing you do, Abby Foxworthy.”

The compliments and his sincerity have me flustered, but in the best possible way. “I think it’s a beautiful way to honor my brother’s memory, and I think it’s the same for you. For Sasha, I mean. Nobody can do everything, but the fact that you care enough to do what you can… That means something. It does.”

His smile changes somehow, although I can’t put my finger on why. It feels sort of sad, or maybe wistful, and he shakes his head and turns away, leaning his elbows on the wall and looking out into the night.

“Perhaps you would not say so if you knew me better,” he mutters.

“Maybe,” I say as I watch him. “Or maybe I still would.”

He chuckles before turning back to look at me, warm eyes sparkling behind his mask. “You flatter me because I’m a donor. But you and your sister both have done an amazing job, and you should be proud of yourselves. I’ve been following your progress since the beginning, and it’s been incredible to watch how far you’ve come in such a short time.”

I smile at his words, feeling humbled and grateful all at once. It’s moments like this that remind me why I do this work—to make a difference in people’s lives, even if it’s only one person at a time.

Together, Maggie and I have organized successful fundraisers for medical research into ARPKD, provided financial aid to families affected by the disease, worked with hospitals to improve patient care, and established community education programs about living with the disease. We’ve also created a support network for those affected by it and for their families so they can find comfort in knowing they’re not alone in their struggles.

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