The Fake Mate(12)

Yes, I think. That’s definitely why I felt so dazed yesterday. The light airiness of her honeysuckle-like scent had simply been a shock to my system, nothing more.

Although none of this explains why I can’t fucking sleep.

By nightfall, my phone ringing at my bedside is the nail in the coffin of my attempts at getting anything close to sleep, and I reach for it blindly as I roll over on my pillow. “Hello?”

“Noah,” a familiar voice says from the other end. “How are you?”

“Paul,” I mumble wearily.

Paul Ackard is about thirty years my senior and, oddly enough, the closest thing I can call to a friend. We still keep in touch fairly often, given the mentor-like relationship we developed during my time working up to the position I hold now. Hell, Paul is the one who put me up for the head of department position when he retired.

I roll my neck, attempting to sit up in bed. “Exhausted, currently.”

“Rough night?”

I laugh dryly. “You don’t know the half of it.”

“I might,” Paul answers. “I know someone turned you in.”

My mouth falls open. “How did you hear about that?”

“I worked at that hospital for twenty-five years, Noah,” Paul chuckles. “I have quite a few friends there.”

I blow out a breath. “You didn’t say anything, did you?”

“Of course not,” he scoffs, sounding mildly offended. “I recommended you for the position regardless of knowing about your designation. Why would I turn around and blab to the board?”

“Right,” I say with a shake of my head. “I’m sorry. I know you wouldn’t do that. It’s just been such a crazy week.”

“I can imagine,” he says kindly. “Which is why I wanted to see how you were dealing with it.”

“Oh, I . . .” I frown, wondering if it’s safe to tell Paul about Mackenzie and our . . . arrangement. I trust Paul, I do, but with everything that’s happened in the last twenty-four hours, I find myself wary of a lot of things. “I’m managing. They’re not going to fire me, at least.”

“That’s good,” Paul sighs. “I didn’t get the whole story. I was worried. Do you have any ideas who might have done this?”

I swing my legs over the bed, stretching. “Not really. There are so few people that know. I can’t fathom who might have figured it out, with the dosage of suppressants I’ve been on.”

“That’s true,” he agrees. “I’m glad that you’re handling it . . . but, still. I worry about it being out there. You know the fuss Dennis put up when you were promoted over him. He’d love to have something like this over you.” He makes a disgruntled sound. “You don’t think he has something to do with the board finding out, do you?”

I shake my head. “I don’t see how he could. We’ve never spoken outside of work, and he has no connection to any of the people in my life that know. Which is an extremely small circle, mind you.”

“True.” Paul is quiet for a moment, considering. “Still. Be careful.”

There’s a guilt pang in my chest over keeping quiet about Mackenzie, but if nothing else, I tell myself it’s for her safety. That helps, but only a little.

“I will,” I assure him. “It’s going to be fine.”

I hope, at least.

“Well, keep me updated,” he urges. “I’m happy to help in any way that I can.”

“I appreciate that,” I say honestly.

“Try not to stress about this. They’d be stupid to let you go regardless of your status. You’re the most brilliant interventional cardiologist that hospital has ever seen. Outside of myself, that is.”

This makes me laugh. “Of course.”

“Talk soon, Noah.”

“All right,” I tell him. “Talk soon.”

I sit at the edge of my bed for a moment after hanging up, blinking wearily out the window near my bed at the setting sun that has nearly disappeared past the horizon. I can officially say that sleep is not going to happen.



* * *





?It’s well after dark when I decide that a day like today deserves a strong drink, nursing a glass of scotch by the hearth of the woodstove in my living room as I lounge in my favorite chair. It’s been about five minutes since I got a text from Mackenzie, and I’ve spent the entirety of that time reading it more than once as I try to decide what to send back. I’m also trying to remember the last time I sent anyone a text that wasn’t work-related or to my mother.

MACKENZIE: Hey, hope you slept well! This is Mack aka Mackenzie aka Dr. Carter. I’ll probably be busy the next couple of days if things keep going like they have been. But you can definitely text me if anything mate-related comes up and you need me. I’m totally down for any espionage-related matters. I forgot to tell you that my yoga session usually runs till noon on Saturdays, but there’s a cafe that I love close to the studio if you want to meet there this weekend. Here’s the address. Let me know if that works. Totally ready for our first scheming session.



I think for the dozenth time since somehow miraculously pulling off this whole charade that I could not have picked a worse partner in crime, getting the feeling that Mackenzie Carter is absolutely going to make this entire experience an insufferable one. She’s having entirely too much fun with it, that’s for sure. When I see her again, I should stress once more how detrimental this could be to my career if it goes south.