Beside Krista, her boyfriend muttered, “When did he grow up?” almost to himself. They’d sat back down after Ronan left. Except for Aidan. He leaned against the wall in the space between two rows of chairs.
Meeting Jack O’Connor’s son had been ... interesting. She hadn’t known what to expect from him after his mother’s coldness. He wasn’t warm, but he wasn’t antagonistic, either. He kept looking at her mouth. What was that about?
“How are you doing, love?” Blake inquired, noticing her silence.
“I’m fine. Resting,” Krista replied. “Is he a cop, Ronan?” He looked like the ones she occasionally saw on TV. Leather jacket, longish hair, stubble, flat eyes, world-weary air. He looked anywhere from twenty-five to twenty-eight years old. Like his mother, he had a serious disposition. Ronan resembled Belen O’Connor in everything but height. With Krista’s boots on, they were both six feet tall.
“Yeah. He graduated from the academy right before I left for the Philippines. I’ve only seen him a couple of times since, when I came home for Christmas. Usually just on our birthdays.”
“Whose? Yours and Ronan’s?”
“No, sweetheart. Tita Belen’s and mine. Like you two.” Blake glanced between her and his brother. “Her real birthday is the 25th, but because of the time difference, she celebrates it here on the Eve, same as me. It’s been our families’ tradition to close the pub early and have a combined céili and noche buena.”
“Oh, of course. Belen in Tagalog means the nativity. Duh.” Krista slapped a hand on her forehead. “Sorry.”
He dismissed the apology with a squeeze of her hand.
In their nearly-two-month relationship, they had often talked about their immediate families: her parents and two siblings, Farrah and Alex; and his parents, and Aidan, Craig, and Darcy. He’d mentioned the O’Connors often, but not in detail. Even if he had, the other family simply hadn’t registered with her. She wished now she’d paid more attention.
“We’ll keep it low-key this year.”
“Probably for the best. We don’t know what Uncle Jack’s condition will be in two days,” Aidan said, moving to sit beside Krista.
A new group had spilled into the waiting room. Literally. The men were falling on their butts on the floor, cursing and laughing uproariously. The women, in glittery short dresses showing underneath faux-fur coats, were slip-sliding in their towering stilettoes. Even from several feet away, the unpleasant mix of cheap perfume and copious amounts of alcohol reeked from them.
Krista returned her attention to the Ryan brothers who were talking over her head.
“Why do you say that? What’d you learn?” Blake asked his brother. “Tita Belen hasn’t come back from the CCU, so we don’t have an update yet.”
“Nothing new. Still in a coma. Heard the blood loss was severe. They’ve been giving him transfusions, but his response is slow,” Aidan replied. “Ronan called Tita Belen while we were on the way here,” he further explained when he saw their questioning looks.
Krista couldn’t help herself. She blurted out, “Is there any way you can get the blood bank opened early? My blood is the same type as your uncle’s. I’d like to donate, if it’ll help wake him up.”
“Baby, I already tried.” Blake’s tone held barely concealed pique.
Krista ignored him, keeping her gaze on Aidan. She’d soothe Blake’s hurt pride later, after she had helped the man who could possibly be her biological father.
Aidan’s eyes flicked from one to the other. After what seemed like hours, even though it was only a few seconds, he spoke. “I’ll see what I can do.” He stood and sauntered away to the west side of the building, in the opposite direction from the blood bank.
“He’s going the wrong way,” Krista observed, brows furrowed in confusion.
“No. He’s going where I should have gone earlier: the hospital administration.” Blake’s scowl matched the one he wore when they’d fought over telling their officemates about their relationship. That time, like this one, her actions had irritated him. He clearly felt slighted that she had asked his brother to help where he had failed.
Krista touched his arm. “I’m sorry, hon. I just want—”
“I know. A lieutenant colonel in the air force has more clout than me, a mere CEO of a billion-dollar corporation. I get it.”
The sharp bite in Blake’s tone raised Krista’s hackles. She balled her fists and scooted away. “I believe in maximizing all available resources, and your brother is a handy one right now.”
“I already said I understood. There’s no need to rub it in my face.” Blake jumped to his feet and declared, “I’m gonna go grab some coffee. Are you okay until Aidan gets back?”
“I’ll be fine. If you could bring me back some orange juice and a sandwich with eggs and spinach, I’d appreciate it. Thank you.”
He grunted an acknowledgment of her order and left.
Krista could have gone with Blake, but his pissy mood annoyed her. Better to keep their distance until his temper cooled. She was usually the ill-tempered one in the morning before her first coffee, but today, her boyfriend rivaled her in grouchiness.
Her mind wandered back to Jack O’Connor. Do I look like him? They said girls oftentimes resembled their fathers more than their mothers. That was how everyone in their small town had come to the conclusion that Krista wasn’t Arsenio Lopez’s natural daughter. She stood almost a head taller than him, and her Anglo facial features looked nothing like his broad Malay-dominant countenance.
She took her cell phone from her bag. Shit. Battery is dying already? Krista had left the data roaming on since they left the hotel. It had been constantly looking for networks. Ugh. Her cell phone bill would be astronomical. Good thing she didn’t have to pay rent on her best friend Maddie’s condo, or else she’d be sacrificing one indulgence next month. Probably a new pair of shoes.
Krista went still. She didn’t need more shoes. She just got new ones. Krista set her bag to the side, leaned back, and lifted her feet. Her Jimmy Choo-boots-clad feet. Two-freaking-thousand dollars. Blake had paid one hundred thousand pesos for a pair of over-the-knee boots. Holy extravagance, Batman.
“Those are gorgeous.”
Krista dropped her feet with a thud. Face red, she lifted her gaze to the owner of the melodic voice that had paid her the compliment.
Talk about gorgeous. Tight black curls, flawless dark skin, high cheekbones, and gleaming toothpaste-commercial teeth showing between red lips, stretched wide in a friendly smile, comprised a stunning face. If that didn’t stop traffic, the long-lashed blue eyes certainly would.
Krista must not have responded fast enough, because the glorious being in front of her stopped smiling and made a move to step away.
“Oh, thank you. I’m sorry. I was struck speechless. You’re so ... beautiful.” The woman looked like Vanessa Williams, only darker.
For some reason, Miss America took that as an invitation to take a seat beside Krista. “So are you.” She crossed her legs, showing off the same boots in pale pink instead of Krista’s black. “Samesies.”
Delighted with the beautiful stranger’s playfulness, Krista mirrored the pose with the opposite leg and said, “Twinning!”
They both laughed in shared camaraderie known to women all over the world, no matter where they came from.
“Hi, I’m Krista,” she said, holding out her hand.
The other woman shook it enthusiastically. “I’m—”
“Summer, what are you doing here?”
“Aidan? Aidan Ryan? Oh, my gosh! It’s great to see you.” Summer rushed to enfold him in a hug.
While Summer exuded warmth and excitement upon seeing an old friend, Aidan held himself stiff in her embrace. He stepped back to extricate himself from her arms. Frosty blue-gray eyes met confused baby blues.
“Darling, really? Are you still mad at me? It’s been what? Nineteen years?” She reached up to touch Aidan’s face. Unlike Krista, Summer needed every bit of the boots’ four-inch heels to give her height. Even wearing them, she stood a head shorter than the military officer.
“I was a child. A spoiled, bratty, selfish infant who had abandonment issues. I wanted to hurt you before you could leave me. I’m sorry. Please forgive me.”
Krista leaned forward in her seat, enthralled by the drama unfolding before her. She didn’t know what Summer had done to Aidan nearly two decades ago, but if she were him, Krista would forgive her based on that apology alone. The intensity in the other woman’s voice and the plea in her eyes convinced Krista of her sincerity.
It must have registered with Aidan as well because he grasped the hand touching his face and lowered it. “Fine, you’re forgiven.”
Summer squealed happily and threw her arms around him once more. “Thank you, handsome. Come, let’s sit beside my new friend and I’ll tell you.” She held onto Aidan’s arm and tugged him towards Krista.
Aidan caught Krista’s gaze and lifted a brow in inquiry. She stood and lifted her shoulders in a shrug, unsure what he’d asked her. She couldn’t read brow language well, unless the brows were raised by Blake or Maddie.
Maddie! She’d forgotten Maddie, her best friend who had a crush on Aidan. She should have been angrier at this stunning woman’s touchy-feely ways with her friend’s object of admiration, but oddly she wasn’t. Summer was too charming. And married, if the rings adorning her left hand were any indication.
“Aidan, this beautiful—and goodness, quite tall—young lady is Krista.”
“I know.” Aidan’s voice barely concealed his laughter.
“You know? How did you know?” Summer turned back to Aidan in surprise.
“Krista is my brother’s girlfriend.”
“Which brother?” Summer faced Krista, the red tone of her skin becoming more pronounced.
“The middle one. I’m dating Blake.”
“Blake. Oh dear, I guess I should apologize to him too, huh?” Summer plopped herself down on the chair and buried her face in her hands with a dramatic groan.
Krista remained standing. She needed to stretch her legs and give her butt a rest from the rigid plastic.
Aidan returned to his favorite spot against the wall. “If you feel you have to.”
Summer looked up. “I want to. Where is he, anyway? Oh my God! Is he why you’re in the hospital? Is he sick? Has he been in an accident?” Summer threw the rapid-fire questions to both Krista and Aidan, her gaze swinging wildly between them.
Why she felt she had to reassure the other woman of Blake’s good health, Krista didn’t know, but she stooped down and patted Summer on the shoulder. “He’s fine. He just went to get coffee.” She straightened, sensing Blake’s presence nearby. “In fact, here he is now.”