Tessa's Gift
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Cerella Sechrist
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16,3K
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22
Chapter One
TESSA WORTH BENT over to finish clipping the leash to the pole. Before she could stand, her canine companion gave a hearty shake of his head, and she jerked back from the spray of slobber.
“Ugh.”
She wiped a strand from her chin as she straightened. “Rufus, we’ve been through this,” she chastised the dog. “Flinging drool on the ladies is no way to win hearts.”
The English bulldog looked up at her with doleful eyes.
“Don’t even start with me, mister,” she said, then gave a quick glance around to be sure no one was witnessing her one-sided conversation with the dog. “Those bedroom eyes may have worked for you when you were a stray, but they won’t get you anywhere with me.”
Rufus huffed, and another gob of drool landed on her sneakers. She groaned and swiped her shoe on the back of her leggings.
“Okay, listen. Just let me get some tea, and I’ll bring you one of those muffins you like.”
Rufus whimpered.
“No, not the bran-and-apple ones. The blueberry. Your favorite.”
Rufus licked his chops, leaving a strand of slobber dangling from his nose.
“Oh, buddy. We really need to do something about that.”
Rufus parked his behind on the sidewalk, unconcerned.
Overcome with affection, Tessa knelt down to scratch him behind the ears. He groaned with pleasure, and she was reminded once again how looks could be deceiving. During her time working at the local animal shelter, she had watched Rufus be bypassed for adoption again and again in favor of the younger or cuter pets.
When she’d left the shelter for her new job as a marketing and PR coordinator for a nearby hospital, she’d realized she couldn’t leave Rufus behind. After all, they had something in common—she knew what it was to feel like she didn’t quite measure up. She’d adopted him on her last day working at the shelter a little over two weeks ago. She hadn’t regretted that decision for a second, despite the drool issue.
“I’ll be back in a few minutes. Sit tight.”
Rufus sneezed, which she took for a sign of agreement, and then Tessa stepped inside the Lighthouse Café.
The Lighthouse was a long-standing fixture of the Findlay Roads community. She’d gone there as a child, during summer visits to her grandmother’s cottage before she’d moved to the town permanently after college. Back then, it had been a diner, complete with blue vinyl booths and geometric-patterned countertops.
Since it had been converted to a café, however, it had undergone extensive renovations to give it a much more modern and trendy vibe. With the tourist boom that had occurred in the town over the last several years, the café had become a favorite not only of locals but of out-of-towners. It helped that local son and famous country music star, Sawyer Landry, occasionally stopped in to play a couple of sets when he was in town.
Tessa walked inside the café and stepped up to the counter to place her order.
“Hey, Tessa,” greeted the barista behind the bar.
“Hi, Liam,” she replied. “Can I get a mint green tea latte to go, please?”
“Sure.” Liam began punching her order into the system. “How’s that new job going?”
“Good,” she replied as she tugged her wallet out of her hoodie pocket. She didn’t carry a purse when she took Rufus on his morning walk. It was challenging enough trying to wrangle a fifty-pound bulldog. She needed both hands free for the attempt. “Pretty good. I’ve only been there a few weeks and I’ve mostly been getting the lay of the land, but now I’m finally starting to dig into my actual duties a little more.”
After almost two years working at the animal clinic, Tessa was enjoying the challenge of a new position. She’d worked for years as a pediatric nurse but stepped away from it after she’d bailed on her own wedding...and all the complicated emotions that went with that.
“That’s $3.59,” Liam said.
“Oh, I nearly forgot. Can you add a blueberry muffin?”
Liam arched a knowing eyebrow. “You’re spoiling that mutt, Tessa.”
Tessa assumed an affronted expression. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. That muffin is for me.”
Liam laughed as he punched her order into the system. “Sure, Tessa, sure. You know I can see him from here, don’t you?”
Tessa turned in the direction Liam pointed, noting that Rufus was sitting patiently where she’d left him, his hooded eyes watching the café door with interest.
“He was found abandoned by the side of the road. He deserves to be spoiled a little bit.”
Liam held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “I’m just saying, you spend more money on that dog than on yourself.”
Tessa shrugged. “He’s worth it.”
Liam shook his head as he took the ten-dollar bill she handed over. She didn’t expect others to understand. She certainly hadn’t been surprised by most of her family’s reaction when she’d brought Rufus to the last family dinner.
Her sister Harper and her husband, Connor, as well as Connor’s daughter, Molly, had made cooing noises over Rufus as if he were a newborn puppy. Her other sister, Paige, had been somewhat less supportive, asking why she’d chosen such an ugly dog to adopt. Tessa had made all the appropriate defenses about Rufus’s character and disposition, but in the end, the family had assumed her choice was just part of what she’d once heard Paige refer to as Tessa’s “pre-midlife crisis,” a term that caused Tessa to flinch, though she hadn’t let her sister know she’d heard her.
Just because she’d left her fiancé at the altar and then quit her well-paying job as a pediatric nurse in favor of minimum wage at the local animal shelter didn’t mean she was going through a crisis. Well, Paige’s assessment maybe did make sense. But only because her family didn’t know the whole story behind her choices.
And that wasn’t something she was planning to share anytime soon. If ever.
Tessa wished Liam a good day and then stepped to the end of the counter to wait for her order. She cast a quick glance outside to check on Rufus and then swiveled her gaze around the room, always interested to see the new faces in town.
She’d inherited her grandmother’s cottage years before, and since then Findlay Roads had truly become home, more than the suburbs of Washington, DC, where she’d grown up. If only Nana could see how the town had grown. Much of it retained the same quaint, Chesapeake Bay charm Tessa remembered from her childhood. But there were plenty of new houses, shops and restaurants to cater to the tourist influx. Not to mention the Delphine, the sprawling luxury resort her own father had built to capitalize on the investment boom.
She noticed a couple in the corner and idly speculated whether they had come to the café to meet with a Realtor and visit some local properties. Real estate in the area had skyrocketed. The cottage she lived in was easily worth a fortune compared to what her grandparents had paid for it so many years ago.
She waved at a few familiar faces, including a girl she used to work with at the pediatrician’s office. She hoped Allison wouldn’t come over. While she had always been friendly with her coworkers, encounters with them now tended to be awkward since they, like her family, didn’t understand why she had up and left her job so unexpectedly.
She shifted her attention back to the bar, and her eyes fell on another new face. He was handsome but almost seemed to have a brooding aura as he studied his phone. His dark brown hair was trimmed short, and he was dressed in dark slacks, a heather-blue shirt and a plain gray blazer. Simple but sophisticated. She entertained herself by speculating on what sort of business he had in town. Was he looking to move here, as she’d imagined the young couple were? Or was he simply a businessman passing through? Perhaps an entrepreneur looking to invest in one of the local businesses. Maybe he had a secret job with the CIA, and he’d come to Findlay Roads searching for an international thief. She nearly laughed at the notion, though his handsome appearance did put her a little in mind of an actor from a spy thriller.
“Tessa, your order’s up.”
She pulled herself out of her reverie and reached for her tea latte and the brown paper bag holding Rufus’s muffin. From the corner of her eye, she noticed her CIA agent was still intent on his phone. He hadn’t even glanced up.
“Spoiling that dog of yours again?” asked Shannon, the barista at the bar.
Tessa made a face as she grabbed the paper bag. “You guys are way too interested in what I feed my dog.”
Shannon chuckled. “Nah, it’s not that. We’re just glad to see you coming around again.”
Tessa couldn’t argue with that. When she’d worked as a pediatric nurse, the Lighthouse Café had been part of her morning routine. She’d stop in for tea and a pastry before she headed to the clinic. But when she’d quit the doctor’s office and had to tighten up her budget, daily trips to the coffee shop had fallen from routine to a treat. It was only now, with her new job at the hospital, that she’d picked the habit back up. Plus, the café was on her walking route with Rufus. And he did like their muffins.
“Thanks,” she said. “It’s...nice to be back.”
Shannon eyed her for a moment, and Tessa tensed, fearing she’d ask more questions. But Shannon just nodded and grinned, and Tessa gathered her tea and muffin and turned to go.
“Hey, Tess.”
She paused at the door as Liam said her name.
“Tell Rufus the next one’s on the house.”
Tessa raised her tea latte in thanks and pushed out the door. Rufus was on his feet the second he saw her, his tiny nub of a tail wagging a greeting.
“You wouldn’t believe the grief I endure for you,” she teased him. She bent down, balancing her carryout cup in one hand and trying to juggle the paper bag on one arm so she could open it. She pulled out the muffin as Rufus jumped up and chomped the muffin out of her palm. Tessa tottered, thrown off-balance. Hot tea sloshed out of the cup’s lid, splattering across her hand. Scalded, she gasped as she jerked to her feet, bumping against something solid while Rufus greedily chewed on the muffin. She registered cursing behind her as she regained her balance and frowned down at her dog.
“Rufus! That was rude!” But Rufus took this admonition in stride as he licked the crumbs from his jowls.
Tessa turned, an apology on her lips. The CIA agent was dabbing at a large coffee stain on his shirt. She glanced down and saw his cup on the ground, dark liquid chugging from the lid. Rufus, finished with the muffin, had taken it upon himself to begin lapping up the liquid. “I am so, so sorry,” she apologized to the man.
He fixed her with a glare. “You really ought to watch what you’re doing,” he said, his tone deep but frosty.
“I’m sorry, it was my dog...” She trailed off with a quick glance at Rufus.
“Then you should watch what your dog is doing,” he returned.
Tessa frowned. “Let me buy you another coffee,” she offered.
He checked his watch. She noted it had a mechanical timeface with a leather wrist strap. Under different circumstances, Tessa might have found it charming. She had never understood the digital watch thing, but even her dad wore one these days. She preferred a more traditional look.
“I don’t have time for another coffee.”
His words drew her attention back to the agent. He balled up the napkins he’d been using to clean his shirt and edged around her to toss them in a nearby trash bin. Rufus, who had finished his breakfast, suddenly took note of the man and gave a low growl. The guy paused midstep at the warning. Tessa stared at Rufus in surprise. During all the months she’d known him, she’d never heard him growl.
“I’m sorry, he’s not usually like this,” she said.
Rufus let out a nonthreatening bark as if to apologize, but the stranger only arched an eyebrow.
“Sorry if I don’t share your assessment. He looks like he belongs in the pound.”
Tessa felt a ripple of irritation. She was sorry she’d ruined the man’s shirt but did he have to insult Rufus?
“At least let me pay to dry-clean your shirt,” she offered, still trying to make amends.
He huffed. “I’m already running late.”
“Here.” She picked up the brown paper bag from the ground, tearing off a piece that hadn’t been splattered by coffee. “Do you have a pen on you?”
He grunted but pulled a pen out of his jacket pocket. “That’s not necessary,” he said, even as he handed it over.
Tessa scribbled her name and phone number on the bag. “Sorry to cause your morning to get off to a rough start, but it’s like the saying goes, ‘It’s never too late to start your day over.’” She passed the pen and paper back. “When you get the dry-cleaning bill, let me know, and I’ll send you the money.”
He stuffed the items into his pocket and pushed past her without another word. She watched as he stepped across the street and got into a pickup truck, which was slightly incongruous with his sophisticated demeanor. She sighed.
“Well, Rufus, we better head back home so I can change or I’m going to be late for work, too.”
Rufus belched in response.
DR. NOAH BRENNAN still wasn’t very comfortable in his office. Ever since he’d started working at Chesapeake View Children’s Hospital six months ago, he’d been unable to personalize the space. His last office had been filled with personal touches. Finger-paint drawings, framed photos, the Post-it notes that Julia had stuck onto his iPad every morning. He’d filled the room with memories and reminders. But all of those mementoes were boxed away now, collecting dust in a storage locker.
He’d never been embarrassed by the emptiness until today, when he’d walked in and found Ana Morales, the hospital’s director of development, eyeing the bare walls and desk.
Inwardly, he cursed. “Ana. I didn’t know you were waiting for me. I apologize for running behind this morning.”
It was that woman at the coffee shop with her unruly dog. He fingered the scrap of paper in his pocket where she’d scribbled her name and phone number. Tessa Worth. He had little patience for careless individuals. Carelessness was how people ended up in the emergency room—something he’d witnessed firsthand during his residency.
If it hadn’t been for Tessa Worth, he might have had time to settle into his morning routine before being faced with this unexpected visit.
Ana, fortunately, waved a hand to dismiss his apology. “You spend every waking minute at this hospital. There’s no need to apologize.”
She crossed to the desk and took a seat in front of it, tucking a strand of black hair threaded with gray, behind her ear. Her olive skin was lined with only a handful of wrinkles, and her brown eyes were astute. He fidgeted uncomfortably and avoided her gaze by stepping behind the desk and taking a seat.
Ana was the reason he was working at Chesapeake View. She’d been the hospital administrator at his previous job before becoming the director of development here. Ana knew his background, knew how he’d wanted a fresh start, so she’d recommended him to the hospital’s board. Noah’s reputation as a physician and the accolades he’d received over the years had sealed the deal for them.
But since coming to work at Chesapeake, Noah had gone out of his way to avoid Ana. She was still a reminder of his losses, and that made it difficult to be around her. She seemed to sense his dilemma and didn’t seek him out other than when necessary. The fact that she’d come looking for him today made him curious and on edge. Maybe it had something to do with the way his morning had started off with the coffee shop woman. Things tended to go downhill when his day began poorly.
But what had she said when she had offered to pay for his dry cleaning? It’s never too late to start your day over.
It sounded so much like one of Julia’s old sayings, before their lives had taken a turn for the worse, that he’d nearly flinched. The thought of his dead wife shook him. Would the ghosts he’d tried to leave behind never stop haunting him?
“What can I do for you, Ana?” he asked, trying to take his mind off his memories.
Ana straightened and gazed at him directly. Noah frowned. Whatever had brought Ana to his office, she meant business.
“How are you doing?” she asked.
It was an innocent enough question, but he knew what lay behind it. “How are you surviving?” was perhaps a more accurate way to phrase it. But he didn’t want to talk about his feelings. It was much easier and less painful to simply wall them off. If he focused on his loss, he’d never be able to do his job.
“I’m fine, thanks, Ana. How about you?”
She eyed him as he turned the question around, but thankfully, she chose not to press. After another minute of watching him, she came to the reason for her visit.
“Noah, as you know, the hospital recently brought a marketing and public relations coordinator on staff to assist me.”
Noah recalled some mention of a new coordinator, but he didn’t pay much attention to the world beyond his hospital floor. He wanted to keep his focus on what mattered most—his patients.
Ana paused, watching him carefully. “We’ve talked before about bringing more awareness to the hospital and the pediatric oncology department specifically—your department.”
Noah’s eyebrows knit together. He was fully aware that part of his duties was to help promote his department. His reputation was part of what had won him this position in the first place, and the board had told him they expected him to actively participate in all publicity campaigns. But in the last six months, he’d managed to remain uninvolved in such efforts, which was the way he wanted to keep it.
“Ana, I’ve told you before. I’m a doctor, not a public relations ploy.”
A spark of determination entered Ana’s eyes. Noah had always respected her, but now, her flinty gaze made him wonder just who would win if he was forced to go head-to-head with her.
“Dr. Brennan,” she began, and Noah tried not to flinch. He recognized that by addressing him so formally, she was making it clear she was serious. “So far I’ve tried to be sensitive to your situation.”
Noah flushed with suppressed anger. “I don’t need your pity, Ana.”
She leaned forward. “It’s not pity to give someone time and space to mourn.”
He looked away. “I don’t need time and space. I need to be free to do my work.”
Ana sighed. “Your work includes bringing attention to the hospital and its programs, along with fund-raising to support those programs. You’re one of the top pediatric oncologists in the country, and that benefits the hospital tremendously, but it’s also important to broadcast those successes.”
Noah stiffened. “My job is to save children’s lives,” he corrected.
“Which is something you do with great skill,” she returned, “but it’s not all that is expected of you. The board would like you to be more actively involved in promotional efforts.”
Noah blinked. “The board is more interested in me playing a part for the public than helping the children on this floor fight for their lives?”
Ana’s expression hardened. “Self-righteousness is not an attractive trait, Doctor, even on you.”
He didn’t reply. It wasn’t self-righteousness. He had no claim to righteousness of any kind. If a doctor couldn’t save the very patient who had mattered most, what right did he have to act blameless?
Still, he had no desire to use—and in fact, was very much against using—his skills or reputation to support a sales pitch for the hospital.
“Noah, I need you to work with this new PR coordinator. Trust me, she’s trying to help these children as much as you are. More funding will allow for better technology, updated equipment, and a host of other things that will only give the kids an edge in fighting cancer and other diseases.”
Noah clenched his jaw, chastened by her words. He’d never begrudge the children the opportunity for more resources. What he resented was the hospital trying to use him, to leverage his skills and status when both of those things were clearly overrated.
“Promise me that you’ll be nice to this coordinator.”
He raised his head. “I am always professional with staff,” he pointed out.
Ana arched an eyebrow. “I didn’t say I wanted you to be professional, I said I wanted you to be nice.”
“I am nice,” he protested.
Ana looked skeptical. “Well, let’s just take it one step at a time, shall we?”
Noah appreciated Ana’s position, but he wasn’t going to make any promises. He wasn’t the easiest person to work with, and his attitude often put people off, which was just fine with him. It was better for others, and for him, if they didn’t get too close. And he didn’t intend to make an exception for this new coordinator, no matter how sweetly Ana asked.
