Paging Dr. Hot (28 page)

Fizzy nods sympathetically. “I hear you.”

“I can’t be seen in public with these scars, Fizz. Everyone knows I’m the one planning this event. People will recognize me from TV.”

“So go incognito.”

“What do you mean?”

“I have an idea.” Fizzy’s blue eyes light up with mischief. “Leave it to me. Santiago is a master of disguises.”

Romeo: Ah, ma petite Coquette, you’ve come back to me. And not a moment too soon. You’re looking mighty fetching in that sassy silk scarf, bebe.

Your scent is driving me wild. It’s brought out the wolf in me. Rrrruff!

Chapter Twenty-Six

“Showtime!” I say to Vinny, who is sitting beside me on the couch. Elise’s segment is about to be aired and Vinny and I can’t wait. We polished off a large prosciutto and arugula pizza and Vinny’s drinking from his bottle of Corona, while I sip cold Diet Coke from the can.

I’m glad Vinny is visiting me. He isn’t Harrison, but his company always lifts my spirits. Vinny had texted me earlier today with, “Woot woot, bringing pizza.” Good thing too, cause I needed a little cheering up.

I miss Harrison. I called him back after Devon left yesterday, but we’ve been playing phone tag ever since. I hate phone tag because eventually one of us will quit calling. I don’t want to text him either. I want to hear his voice.

I wish he wasn’t annoyed with me because of Devon’s visit. It’s not as if I invited him over. I don’t want Harrison to think there is anything remotely romantic between me and Devon, even though Devon was acting like it.

Harrison once made a comment about my apartment being a reverse waiting room for doctors. I know he was kidding, but sometimes things said in jest ring true.

“I’m sick of these anti-depressant commercials,” Vinny says. “They’re so depressing.”

“Yeah,” I say, reluctantly taking my thoughts away from Harrison. “I just want Elise to come on already.”

“She said it was huge.” Vinny’s chocolate eyes look huge too.

“Then it must be. Elise doesn’t exaggerate.”

The show begins with Mike Ranson, WBCG’s seasoned anchorman saying, “Good evening. Tonight we bring you breaking news involving a medical fraud case being investigated by the District Attorney’s office. Elise Richards is on the scene with the latest.”

“Cool, there she is!” Vinny jabs his finger toward the TV. “They’re filming live, right?”

“Yes. Elise looks amazing.” I’m thrilled to see her back to her old self.

Dressed in a tailored royal blue dress with her blond hair blown out in a sleek bob and her face perfectly made up, Elise looks like a young Diane Sawyer. I turn up the volume and we hear her talking into a microphone as she approaches a building off Ponce de Leon Boulevard in Coral Gables. Looking like she’s ready to eat the world, Elise enters the building accompanied by Cal, the cameraman.

She faces the camera and says, “We are about to confront a physician who has been bilking Medicare for millions of dollars. For the past four years, he has hospitalized healthy senior citizens, requiring them to undergo unnecessary, expensive tests and keeping the patients in the hospitals for weeks at a time. All at Medicare’s expense and to his extreme profit.”

I crank up the volume and Vinny and I lean forward to catch every word. “Elise is on a mission to nail the jerk. Good for her!” Vinny grins and does a fist pump.

Elise pushes open an office door and enters a lobby filled with elderly people.

“That lobby looks familiar…like a spa. Where have I seen that office before?” I plunk my Diet Coke can down without taking my eyes from the TV. “Ohmigod, Vinny. I think that’s Alex’s office!”

“Are you sure?” His eyes bulge with excitement.

“Yes! That’s his receptionist, Monique. Look at her preen for the camera,” I say with disgust as the snooty receptionist purses her glossy lips and fluffs her highlighted blond hair with a delicate, manicured hand.

“She’s hot,” Vinny says.

“Shh.” I don’t want to hear him compliment Monique. “Let’s listen.”

Elise approaches the reception counter and tells Monique, “I am Elise Richards, health reporter with WBCG. We’re here to interview Dr….”

Monique gives Elise a haughty, collagen-puffed smile. “I’m sorry but Dr. Escobar is busy on a phone call.”

“Where is he?” Elise inquires.

“In his office. Do you have an appointment to see him?”

“What? Is she for real?” I ask Vinny, whose gaze is glued to the set.

“She’s hot,” he says again, and I feel like clobbering him.

Riveted, we watch Elise ignore Monique and push through a swinging door.

“Wait a minute. You can’t go in there!” Monique cries, jumping up from her chair. Several of the model-type staff rush forward trying to block Elise’s entrance, but she barrels ahead like a rampaging tornado, with Cal close behind.

Monique positions herself in front of Alex’s door with her arms outstretched melodramatically, forming a human barricade. Unfazed, Elise walks right up, nudges Monique aside and flings the door open.

There is a quick shot of the receptionist’s shocked, horrified glare before the camera zooms in on Alex, who is sitting at his desk garfing down a guava
pastelito.

I jump up from the couch, scaring Romeo who was snoozing at my side. The minute he sees Alex, Romeo runs to the screen and starts barking at it.

“I love this. Serves him right!” I shout, unable to believe what I’m seeing. I turn to Vinny, who is staring at me wide-eyed. “Alex is such a hypocrite. He once ruined dessert by telling me, ‘a moment on your lips, a lifetime on your hips’.”

Vinny snorts. “What a douche bag. There’s nothing wrong with your hips, they’re perfect.”

“Aw, thanks, Vinny.” He is too sweet. Nobody’s ever called my hips perfect.

“Look at Elise. She’s ready to pounce on him,” Vinny says, bouncing on the couch.

“Dr. Alex Escobar.” Elise enunciates his name loudly and clearly as she positions herself in front of his desk. “Is it true that you have profited greedily by hospitalizing healthy senior citizens with fraudulent orders for unnecessary expensive medical procedures?”

Alex drops the remnant of his
pastelito
into a white bakery box that’s filled with more pastries.

“Who let you in here?” he thunders, slamming his hands on his desk. His face is turning purple as his eyes blaze black fire.

“Please answer the question for our viewers,” Elise says in a calm, professional manner.

“Get away from me,” he barks, shoving the microphone from his face.

The camera shot is so tight we can see the pastry flakes on Alex’s belligerent chin and a smear of guava at the corner of his angry, twitching mouth. Too late, Alex turns his face away from the camera and raises an arm to shield his identity.

Undeterred, Elise continues forcefully, “We have solid evidence that your Cardiac Wellness Program has made millions by bilking Medicare for…”

“Shut up,” Alex snarls as he tries to yank the microphone from Elise.

She holds on tight and they struggle before he lets go of the mic and bolts from his chair, covering his rabid face with a manila envelope.

Alex makes a dash for the door, with Elise and the cameraman at his heels.

In a triumphant tone, Elise adds, “The authorities have uncovered your money laundering activities too. Do you have anything to say to our viewers, Dr. Alex Escobar?”

Alex turns toward Elise and his eyes look scary, like a devil’s. “You’ll pay for this, bitch!”

Oops, Alex said bitch on live TV. Not exactly good for his already tarnished image.

I dance around my apartment squealing, “Yesss! Fry his ass, Elise!”

Vinny does fist pumps. “You go, girl!”

I suddenly remember that Alex never did reimburse me for that dinner at Ortanique. The creep and with all the money he was milking too. You would think he would be a little less cheap with his stolen taxpayers’ money.
Well, jerk, a moment on TV, a lifetime behind bars for you!

When they cut to a commercial, I collapse on the sofa in a state of utter shock. I turn to Vinny who is cradling his Corona in one hand and petting Romeo with the other.

“Unbelievable,” I manage to say.

“Elise should get an award for that. She was amazing,” Vinny says in awe.

“I’m stunned. Alex never struck me as being a swindler—or a criminal. I mean, he’s a creep in other ways, but a crook? I can’t wrap my head around this.”

It’s too horrible, especially since Alex is Elise’s twins’ father. That’s why she looked so anguished when we met and couldn’t tell me more. No wonder she was so secretive about everything. I admire her strength. Elise is a survivor and I want to be like her. Fear is not an option will be my motto again! No more chickening out on things, no more worrying about things I can’t control, I vow silently. Well…I’ll try my best anyway.

“I never liked him. He’s an arrogant ass,” Vinny says about Alex. He gives me a puzzled look. “You didn’t get the vibe that anything was up with him?”

“I should have put two and two together,” I say in a cynical voice. “Alex lives in a mansion in Cocoplum. He owns several luxury properties and drives a Lamborghini.”

“He does? Cool.”

“Not cool. He must be dishing out a fortune to keep his mother and his sisters living in high style.”

“Well, there you go.” Vinny rolls his eyes. “He’s whack.”

“Plus, he bankrolls Lisa Lulu’s Intimates, the lingerie shop that belongs to his twin sisters.”

Vinny raises one eyebrow and a predatory smile lurks on his mouth. “Sweet.”

“Get your mind out of the gutter, Vinn.”

Vinny grins and guzzles his beer.

I feel sick inside—for Elise and her babies. She must have been under such duress holding back from exposing Alex’s involvement until she was absolutely certain. What a moral dilemma she faced! It took a lot of guts for her to expose Alex’s corruption on TV for everyone to see. Ethically she was bound to, but it had to have been hard for her to make public that the father of her sons is a criminal. It’s tragic.

“Elise has come back better than ever, don’t you think?” I ask Vinny. I am so proud of her.

“Yeah, she rocked the segment. And she looked
tres chic.
”

“I sure hope Antoinette recognizes it.”

“Antoinette’s been in a bad mood lately,” he confides. “Sounds like her sugar daddy is having problems.” He rolls his eyes and points to his crotch.

“Really? What’s wrong with him?” I ask, looking away from Vinny’s crotch.

“I heard her complaining to Dr. Hamme that he hasn’t been
up
to par, if you know what I mean,” Vinny confides with a snicker.

I roll my eyes. “Spare me the details. I’m grateful she finally agreed to let me come back to work on Monday.”

“It’s about time. The place is boring without you.”

“Aw, thanks, Vinn.” I frown. “But I am a little miffed at Antoinette. She won’t let me go to Bowled Over this weekend.”

“Why not?”

“Because I still have some scars. She doesn’t believe I can cover them up with makeup.”

“That’s harsh. What’s her problem?”

“She’s probably worried I’ll look gross.”

“You? Never,” Vinny says, winking at me.

“Thanks. You are too kind.”

I don’t tell Vinny that I’m planning on going in disguise like Fizzy suggested. The fewer people who know, the better. Hopefully Santiago has come up with a good one.

Speaking of Santiago…I’m dying to meet Fizzy’s mystery lover. Ever since she came back from their weekend together, she’s been glowing like a firefly and it only makes me miss Harrison more.

“Is it true you’re doing a weekly sex show with Dr. Hamme?”

Oh God, please tell me he’s kidding. “I haven’t agreed to anything. Where did you hear that?” I demand.

Vinny shrugs his shoulders. “Not sure.”

I will not do a sex show with Devon!

Romeo: I’m glad Vinny’s here. He’s a cool dude. I like it when he speaks in French. It reminds me of my delectable Coquette.

The minute Vinny mentioned the sex show to Francesca, she freaked out. Vinny cracked up at her reaction. It’s obvious he’s smitten with her.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

It’s Friday and I just finished baking five-dozen chocolate chip cookies. When I’m feeling down or restless, I bake. It’s the perfect remedy because the end result is so yummy. Unfortunately, I ate half a dozen of them straight out of the oven, warm and chewy with a slight crisp around the edges. Now I’m not feeling any better, just fuller.

Make up your mind, Frankie.
I can’t stop thinking about what Harrison said. He is losing patience with me. With all the comings and goings of doctors in my apartment, who can blame him? I need to do something special for him. I know! I’ll pack up some cookies and take them to him. Brilliant.

I fill a round plastic container to the brim with cookies. A piece of twine around it gives a nice, homey touch. If I’d thought of it before, I could have bought a pretty tin. No matter. He’s a guy. I doubt he’d even notice the tin.