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Bella
Bella’s mind wandered to bear claws, danishes, anything gooey and sticky and sweet and...
Stop! She shouted at herself.
A pinch of pain shot across her shoulder, breaking the sugary spell from Steamy Beans wafting in as the door closed again. The coffee shop was a beacon of hope and wakefulness in the morning. However, in the afternoon, Steamy Beans haunted her with decadent pastry and coffee scents carried in each time a patient entered the clinic. She'd only been sitting for a minute when her stomach growled angrily. One more patient. Bella weighed if she had time to run across the street to grab anything.
After a day of torturing her via texts from the next exam room and annoying notes on every sticky note they owned, Alicia left during Bella's second to last appointment. She quickly knocked on Bella's exam room door to let her know she was on her way out.
Bella meant to beg her friend to run across and grab something for Bella to eat but was in the middle of explaining medication to her patient and couldn’t stop.
When that patient left, Bella found yet another hot pink sticky note screaming at her on top of the schedule to ‘BUY SNACKS ALREADY, B!’.
Huh. The mystery of the empty snack drawer was solved! Bella's turn, and she forgot, just like she forgot to buy her own groceries. She'd really been off lately. Lately being a relative term. 'Lately' as in since she returned home to New York nearly eight months prior. She thought coming home would be easier than it had been. Sure, adjusting would take time, but she'd get back to her normal routine, and everything would fall back into place. Boy, was she wrong. Before Frontier Doctors, Bella was constantly on top of every part of her life. Fully stocked kitchen, meals, exercise, school work, or her residency. She was so on top of her life that Bella outshone her brother. At one point, her father considered placing Bella as CEO of Astor Pharm instead of Chris. Now she couldn't remember to get basic necessities.
The ting-a-ling of the bell on the front door jolted Bella. In came her last client, a sweet brunette woman named Melissa.
And that answered Bella’s burning question. No, she did not have time to run across to Steamy Beans for coffee or a snack.
Bella hid her disappointment behind paperwork for Melissa and busied herself forming questions for her new client. Melissa echoed Bella's own fatigue. Messy ponytail falling low after a day of work. The woman's uniform from one of the chain stores.
Melissa's exam didn't take long. An injury from overworking. Everything would have gone faster if Melissa had checked her unnerving stare at the door.
Eventually, near the end of the exam, while Bella was making notes on Melissa's chart, her patient said, "I know you," in that slow, deliberate way. Like she was thinking very hard over Bella's face.
After someone said things like, 'I know you,' it took a few extra moments to come to people. Even with Bella's ID swinging around her neck, her full name in plain sight. No one ever looked at the nametag before saying, ' I know you.'
To move the process along, Bella fiddled with the plastic tag and impatiently twisted a lock of messy blond hair that had fallen from her bun.
“No way!” Melissa exclaimed.
Ah, annoying recognition.
“You’re not like the Bella Astor, are you?”
Melissa’s eyes widened like a cartoon. Bella was used to that, too. No one seemed to think Bella looked much like ‘the Bella Astor’ plastered across tabloids. Or from that video from high school...
Gurgle.
Great interruption.
Melissa stopped and made a face at Bella and her obnoxious ‘can’t-leave-well-enough-alone-yes-she-knew-that-she-hadn’t-eaten-since-7-AM’ stomach.
"I didn't eat lunch," Bella said, waiting for the doctor's note to print. Another louder groan echoed from her stomach, and Bella added, "Or dinner."
“You’re the Bella Astor?” Melissa reiterated. “Oh, my god! You tried to stab Preston Warren.”
Good God! Where the hell did people hear this stuff?
"It was a glass. And if I wanted to hit Pres, I would have." Bella tried to keep the comment under her breath.
Really, Bella tried to be pleasant as she escorted Melissa back out of her exam room. She'd pressed the letter into the woman's hand with the summary from her visit. They were barely out the door when Melissa full-on stopped. Bella crashed into her patient's back, and they both caught themselves on the front desk.
Melissa righted herself. She fixed her hair obsessively and adjusted her hunter green work polo while staring at Lucas's slightly unkempt blond hair and muscular physique. The man was stopping traffic, literally, with those rolled-up shirtsleeves.
Lucas crushed Melissa's wistful dreams almost immediately when he started singing. "Fa la la la la," came out adorably and purposely off key, a nail protruding from between his teeth.
"You didn't find that funny yesterday," Bella snapped playfully.
Marking the location for the plaque, Lucas got the nail ready and said, “No, I didn’t. Brought you dinner, Bells.”
Lucas tilted his head at a plain white plastic bag tied closed. Her stomach grumbled so loudly Lucas couldn't help but chuckle.
“Have a good night,” he said, his deep baritone nearly taking out Melissa’s knees.
Lucas glanced at Bella as she mouthed 'thank you.'
It took Lucas setting down his hammer and holding the door open for Melissa to cross the reception room in a flurry of giggles and preening. The door shut, and Bella collapsed into the closest chair.
“You’re both a godsend and a hazard.” Bella massaged the migraine forming at her temples.
“Hazard? Pretty sure I just saved you. And you hate when a guy 'saves you.'"
“I only allow you to ‘save me’ because I know I can hand you your ass on the mat.”
“Touch́e.”
Bella scrubbed her face, stopping to remember if she'd put makeup on that morning. Preston's dumb flowers and dumb gestures, and dumb...self made Bella scream through her hands.
Lucas lined up the nail again and paused, hammer held back. “Dinner?”
Bella finally mumbled through her fingers, “I can’t believe you bought me dinner.”
"I mean," Lucas grinned and continued, "If it counts as saving you again, I could eat it."
“No!” she said and seized the bag before he could, even jokingly, reach down to grab it.
Oh lord, the bag smelled heavenly. Sharp and smooth hints of cheese tickled her nose. “You didn’t.” Bella sighed contentedly after another inhale.
“Straight from Sek’end Sun.”
She caught the gleam in Lucas’ eye and smiled even brighter. Bella loved Sek'end Sun; nothing could beat their mac and cheese fresh out of the oven. But Lucas had to drive out of his way an extra eight blocks to stop and get her favorite dish before backtracking to the clinic.
Bella pulled out the container, still radiating heat, and felt herself get as gooey as the cheesy pasta inside.
“How does it look?” Lucas asked. When his eyes settled, a smirk settled as well. He pointed at the cheese dripping from the side of her mouth.
But Bella wasn't focused on the plaque. She was focused on how almost five years had done wonders to Lucas that she couldn't tell over video chat. Usually, she only saw his face and hair covered in a baseball cap or bandana.
Back when they met, Lucas was still slim, but recently he'd filled out with more muscle tone. He'd become wider in the hips and chest with broad, round shoulders. His jawline cemented itself, and the cleft in his chin that had been cute as a dimple before became a memorable, pretty damn sexy feature. And his smile included delectable dimples.
Literally, none of this was what Lucas was talking about. He looked from the plaque to her and back again.
Damn it. What was she thinking? This was all Alicia’s fault! Her partner’s weird conversation earlier infiltrated her brain, making Bella think about Lucas!
Looking up, Bella saw the plaque hanging handsomely between the watercolor paintings Giovanni gifted to their clinic from his hometown, Florence, Italy.
She slurped down what noodles and cheese were in her mouth without choking and said, “Just where I was going to hang it.”
Lucas' expression softened, and he chewed his lips. A buzz rattled the keys in his pocket. And somehow, Lucas utterly ignored his phone.
Heat rose into Bella's cheeks as Lucas watched her while she ate, ignoring his phone when it buzzed again.
Both jumped when the clinic’s bell rang as someone opened the door.
“We’re closed,” Bella and Lucas said in unison, and why were her cheeks and ears so freaking hot?
“You should answer that.” Preston’s cool voice threw proverbial ice water onto Bella. Then, with the barest threads of civility, Preston added, “Mr. Holt.”
“Mr. Warren,” Lucas said in equally frigid tones.
“I came to have a word with Bella.”
"Do you mean Dr. Astor?" Lucas stepped between them, chin held high, trying to make up the few inches he was shorter than Pres. "Maybe you should have phoned ahead. Made an appointment."
Preston leered down at Lucas, “I thought Hope Clinic took walk-ins.”
“Oh, good God.” Bella rocked herself out of the chair. “We’re not measuring...egos here, boys.”
Preston, though, couldn’t drop the competition. “I’d win.”
To keep from hurling herself at Preston, Bella looped her arm through Lucas’, gripped his bicep, and said, "That's not necessarily the case."
Eyes widened in surprise, Preston asked, “Like you’d know, Bells?”
“Pretty sure my ‘ego’ is biggest,” she sneered. “Now get the hell out of my clinic.”
Lucas flushed, and Preston's grin grew wider.
"I'll bet your 'ego' is." He turned just enough to prove he was excluding Lucas, then Preston said, "I just want to talk, Bells. Explain."
Bella hesitated, unsure how to answer. For most of her life, Bella stood up for Preston through all his crappy behavior. She’d fed herself the bullshit line, ‘that’s how Pres always treated women and was just how things worked in their corner of society,' over and over until she believed the lie too. He was her best friend, and Bella would listen to whatever Preston had to say because he was Preston, a guy she grew up loving. Granted, she knew how terribly Pres treated people by college, but he was still her friend.
Until he became the guy that broke Bella Astor.
Lucas answered for her, “She doesn’t want you here.”
“Bella can make that...”
Bella said, “I don’t want you here.” The words felt stale. Almost like she wasn’t sure. But it was Preston. He cheated on your ass with Chris' fiancé, so there's no point in hearing him out! Sweet, beautiful logic.
"That doesn't sound very confident. Five minutes." Preston rubbed his jaw, the stubble long enough that it jutted out at various angles after each fidget. "Please, Bells. All I want is a private conversation.”
The way Preston leveled his annoyingly velvety dark brown eyes on Lucas, Bella was glad she still had a hold of him. She would not blame Lucas if he lunged for Preston's throat.
Lucas squeezed the handle of the hammer until Bella slid her hand over his, feeling the tension ebb. “It’s fine.”
Clearly, Lucas didn’t buy it; his jaw squared.
"Run along, Holt." Preston waved at the door. Bella half expected one of the Warren attendants to be waiting and open the door to ensure Lucas left the premises.
Lucas' arm tensed under hers. He leaned down and whispered, "What do you want to do? I can take you home right now."
As much as it pained her, Bella knew she should hear Preston out, a first step to smoothing things over with her mother after the debacle at the award ceremony last night. Show that she’s “making an effort” or whatever.
“Bella?” Lucas pushed himself between Bella and Preston, concern written across his face.
“Might get the ice queen off my case. I can’t believe I’m in my 30s and worrying about that.”
"You're sure?" Lucas rightly asked because he did not look sure.
“I’ll be fine.”
A total and complete lie. But Bella could absolutely fake being okay until she was safely holed up in her apartment again.
“You heard her,” Preston said, then nudged Lucas. “She’ll be fine. She’s a big girl.”
Finally breaking his hold on Bella's arm, Lucas spun on Preston again. "She's not a girl. She's a woman. Has been for a very long time."
“And Bella said she wants to speak with me. This is private, so you can see yourself out now.”
Electricity charged the air around all the guys. To break the spell, Bella stood on tiptoes, dared to grab Lucas around his chest, and settled her chin on his shoulder. Preston absolutely seethed at them.
She whispered, “I’ll call you later.”
What possessed Bella to peck Lucas on the cheek, she could not say. But the absolute horror on Preston’s face was both palpable and gratifying.
Lucas leaned back into Bella, a renewed smirk on his face. He was refusing to break Preston's glare. Preston nodded again at the door. Reluctantly, Lucas broke Bella's grasp, and she felt unsteady without him pressing into her. But like always, he caught her shoulders and kept her on her feet.
"Are you sure?" Lucas' crystal blue eyes searched hers.
"Yeah," Bella said. Though her thoughts were more like, No! Stay, or take me with you! Don’t leave me.
Brushing her hair behind her ear sent a shiver down her spine.
Lucas said, “I’m a text away.”
Bella nodded. A text away.
Before leaving, Lucas dropped the hammer on a coffee table and plucked his suit jacket from the chair he'd draped it on. Not bothering to put the jacket on, Lucas tossed it over his shoulder and, an instant later was out the door.
The door jingled shut, leaving behind a thick silence.
“Well, he’s still sniffing around, eh? Pathetic.” Preston chuckled.
Bella tried to draw in a calming breath through locked teeth. “What do you want, Preston?”
“You got my gift.” This wasn’t a question. Jackson obviously reported that he’d delivered the flowers.
With a fold of her arms, Bella tapped her foot faster and faster until Preston continued on his own.
“It’s so weird. I’m not sure I’ve seen a woman eat a carb in public in years.”
“Thought you wanted to explain?”
Somehow, the way Pres thoughtfully rubbed his jaw, fingers playing happily with his stubble, irritated Bella down to her core.
"Yes. But first, you owe me for—"
Her hand crashed into the mac and cheese, flinging a handful at Preston’s precious fucking Armani suit.
“I owe you?” Bella squealed. “What the fuck do I owe you, Preston? I owe you nothing! I-I...get out! Either explain yourself or get the hell out of my clinic!”
Never mind. Bella thought she could talk with Pres. No, she definitely could not even hear him out. Cocky, smug, son of a bitch! Did he think she'd fall into line like every other woman he'd ever dealt with?
In a rare moment, Preston was speechless, wiping clumped macaroni onto the clinic floor.
Then he said, “Again?”
"You're right! I think you deserve a hell of a lot more!" She moved to grab another handful, and Pres jumped to stop her.
“Okay. Okay.”
Jumping across the room, Preston grabbed and held her wrist. Her hand was full of mac and cheese, and he asked, "Can we call a truce?"
Damn the fact that he smelled so good. Just a hint of his signature cologne still left from the morning clung to his suit. And his soft hands holding her wrist.
Remember the anger. Remember why Preston was an ass.
Trish and Pres in bed together. Her bed.
Okay. That did it.
"I don't know. Can you possibly not ruin people's lives?" Rage in her burned so hotly and deeply that Bella felt ill. She wrestled from Preston's grasp and wiped her hand on her scrubs.
“Fine. If you won’t explain, get the hell out.” She shoved Pres towards the door. “Or you won’t only be wearing mac and cheese!”
“Bella!” Preston tried to stop her, his hands grabbing hold of her shoulders.
Which set her off even more. Bella tore away and went straight for the noodles again, whipping another handful at him. “Five years, Preston! Five! Not one apology! Not a single attempt to...argh! If you cared so much—why?”
“Bella? Can we talk without food?”
“I can’t do this tonight. Out.” Her eyes stung with fresh tears.
Grabbing his jacket sleeve, Bella dragged him to the door, shoved him out, and pulled out her keys. Her voice trembled as she said, “My humiliation wasn’t enough? What? You need to revel in it further?”
“Bells?”
No! God damn it! Lucas could call her that. Chris. Alicia. Pres’ right to that name was revoked.
“I’m going home.”
If Bella didn’t look, he couldn’t try to smolder his way into her fucking good graces again.
"Bells?" He dangled keys in her face. "Bella. Please, I just want to talk. You don't need to walk. I can drive you home, and we can..."
"Talk? You want to talk? Okay, talk! Tell me: was that night the first time you slept with Trish, or was I just some running gag at all the Astor galas you were my date to, and you snuck off with her at each one? I have been waiting for almost five years for an actual explanation."
“Bells, that’s not fair. I tried...”
“Yes! Sorry. You tried. At my father’s funeral! Not exactly an appropriate place to explain why you cheated on me!”
“Bella...I wanted to apologize...I guess it wasn’t the best timing.”
Behind her, a car door clicked open. Bella wheeled around to yell but saw Lucas leaning against the hood of his faded red beat to hell fifteen-year-old Corolla, holding the door open. He left the door hanging, walked over, and wrapped his suit jacket over her shoulders.
“Holt! I’m trying to have a private conversation.”
"That was private?" Lucas tilted his head to Steamy Beans, where teens sipped coffee well past when Bella could drink a caffeinated drink and not be up all night. They all had their phones out.
Lucas continued, “You and I have very different definitions of the word private.”
Bella tilted her head to the gloomy, gray sky overhead, lit with New York's ambient glow, blinking away tears.
“Need a ride?” This time, Bella turned and found Lucas’ smile wasn’t full of venom or malice toward Preston. Just empathy.
“Bella?” Preston tried once more, but she was determined not to listen.
“Not tonight, Pres.”
Bella tightened the jacket around her shoulders, strode from the two men, and climbed into Lucas’ car.