Barefoot in the Sun (Barefoot Bay)(25)

“I’m afraid so, but that doesn’t mean she has cancer.” Although he’d put his money on it.

“You have to work fast, then, Oliver.” She looked up at him, squinting in the sunshine, her eyes moist. “She wants to die.”

“What?”

“She thinks I’d be better off without her. I could have a…life.” Zoe shrugged. “I think it’s her solution to your more legalistic approach.”

“Did you tell her you’re going to talk to a lawyer?”

She shook her head. “It’s not happening. She went batshit crazy. I can’t do that to her. My God, Oliver, she’s practically hoping the cancer will take her.”

“Talk about batshit crazy.”

“I’m serious. If she knows I’m considering that, I’m afraid she’ll take her own life thinking it’s best for me.”

For a second he stared at her, an old but sickeningly familiar sensation washing over him. Numbness. Pain. Disbelief. Anger.

So much anger.

The feelings erased any of the much nicer emotions he’d been nursing all morning. “We can’t let that happen,” he said simply, leading her inside. “We can’t let that happen,” he repeated, getting a strange look from Zoe. Of course she didn’t know. In their brief month together, he’d held back a few things about his past, too.

“What can you do, Oliver?” she asked, obviously sensing he’d changed his tune a bit.

At the doorway, he hesitated. “I haven’t told you much about my approach, Zoe. You have to understand something now. Our treatments are not typical, they’re not proven, and they’re not blessed by the FDA. Like I said, my clinic specializes in experimental treatment. And that has risks.”

She looked dubious. “Is it legal?”

“Absolutely. We work with the National Institutes of Health, researchers, and some of the top cancer institutions in the country. Like I said, we’re the last stop for the hopeless.”

“And what kind of results do these hopeless patients get?”

He smiled a little, unable to hide his pride. “We have some miraculous stories, and I have the living, breathing, golf-swinging patients to prove it.”

Hope brightened her eyes. “Would you take a living, breathing, palm-reading patient?” She put her hand on his arm. “Even if I don’t talk to a lawyer?”

He nodded slowly. “Let me talk to her, and get her comfortable, then we’ll see what’s next. I’ll want to consult with my partner.”

She wrapped her arms around him, pulling her body right into his. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet. Let’s take step one.” With his arm around her, they walked inside. The living room was empty, but the sound of Evan’s laughter came from the patio. The two of them were already outside, at a table, with Pasha shuffling a deck of cards.

“Zoe, she’s going to teach me the Egyptian game!”

Zoe put her hand to her heart, feigning pain. “Ugh, I’ve been replaced.”

“No!” Evan almost jumped out of his chair. “You can play, too.”

“It’s more fun with two people,” Zoe said. “But we’ll watch. Your dad knows how to play.” She shot him a playful look, memories of cards and tequila and disappearing clothes arcing between them like a thousand-volt defibrillator to his chest.

“Dad plays cards?” Evan almost choked with disbelief.

“I’m actually really good at that game.”

He could feel Zoe’s look.

“Sometimes,” he added, nudging her playfully.

“You better pay attention,” Pasha said, snapping the deck in front of Evan’s face. “You need brainpower and speed to play this.”

“I have a hundred-and-sixty-two IQ.”

Oliver cringed. “You’re not supposed to tell people that, Ev.”

Pasha flipped the cards. “I don’t care if you have a four-hundred-and-sixty-two IQ, this game takes skills.”

“Nobody has an IQ that high,” he said, ever the literal little guy.

“And nobody has ever beat me at this game on the first try.”

“Oh yeah?” He shimmied closer to the table, and they were off. Oliver watched her teach him, a little in awe at how quickly his son learned, but also taking in as much as he could of the older woman.

Not a medical examination, by any stretch, but her cough was not in the lungs. And she unconsciously touched her throat more than her chest. With a gun to his head he’d say esophageal. But he had to talk to Raj before they did anything else. And so did Zoe.

He took her into the kitchen to talk privately. “I want us to meet with my partner. Today. He’s at our clinic and you can talk to him about Pasha.”

“Shouldn’t we bring her?”

“I need you to know exactly how we work and what IDEA is.”

She frowned at the acronym.

“Integrated Diagnostics through Experimental Analysis,” he said. “Like I said, we have a team of top-notch medical researchers working tirelessly on advanced, untested treatments. But it’s not unusual for our patients to be the guinea pigs of cancer treatments, even to be the case histories for the government organizations to study when they approve a new treatment. It’s cutting-edge stuff.”

“You know you’re singing my song, doc.” She glanced out to the patio. “But I don’t want to leave them here alone. Let me call Lacey’s daughter, Ashley, for some backup and we can go.”

“I’ll go tell them we’re off to run some errands.” He returned to the patio in time to see Evan snatching a card back with lightning-quick hands.

“Ha ha!” He pointed at Pasha. “Got it!”

She beamed back. “You are absolutely the…the…sweetest little boy I’ve seen in years.”

Oliver interrupted the game long enough to tell them the plans.

“Just bring lunch when you get back,” Pasha replied. “We’re going to work up an appetite, right, Ma…” She hesitated as if she couldn’t remember his name, then grabbed it. “Evan?”

“Right!”

She gave him a grin that put her whole heart on the line. Certainly not like a woman who was contemplating the unthinkable act of suicide. But then, she wouldn’t be the first sweet lady to fool a little guy like that, would she?





Chapter Nine

You’re great with Evan,” Oliver said as they climbed into the Jeep. He adjusted the seat to his six-foot-one frame, sunglasses hiding his eyes but making him look cool. And hot.

“Not as good as Pasha. Good heavens, I’ve never seen her make such fast friends with anyone.” Truth was, she made friends with so few people. “But he’s a great kid, Oliver, as I’m sure you know.”

“I know he’s great. He’s also tough.”

She glanced at him as she pulled on her seat belt, not quite sure what he meant. “He seems pretty easy to me.”

“That’s what I mean. You make it look so easy.”

“Maybe Evan and I are on the same maturity level,” she teased. “Which is not meant to be self-deprecating. That kid is smart.”

“Maybe too smart for his own good.” As they drove off the property and into town, Zoe could tell he wanted to talk more about Evan, but she was itching to know about his clinic and the possibilities.

“I think you’re trying too hard,” she suggested. “You know, with the divorce and all, and him being in your care all summer. Relax and have fun with him.”

He threw her a smile. “Fun is your specialty.”

“You just need to be yourself with him.” She put a hand on his leg, loving the muscle that tensed under her touch. “You don’t need pointers, Oliver, honestly.”

“I’ll try.” He turned the Jeep onto the causeway to the mainland, nodding like he was mentally filing the advice away.

“Tell me about your clinic and your partner.”

“Sure. I met Raj Mahesh at that oncology conference at the Ritz a few years ago. When I saw you in the lobby.”

“And in the parking lot.”

He frowned. “I don’t remember that.”

She blew out a breath, embarrassed but not willing to lie. She’d freaked that day, seeing him and his wife, and had dived to the floor of a Rubicon very much like this one, the kind she rented every time she came to Mimosa Key and wanted a muscular convertible for the beach. “I was with Jocelyn and Tessa having lunch there, and you and your wife got out of a car at the valet parking.”

He sort of shook his head, the moment probably not as crystal clear in his memory as it was in hers. “I remember meeting Mike Genovese, one of our investors, but I can’t believe I wouldn’t recall seeing you.”