The Doctor and the Matchmaker
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Cheryl Harper
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19
CHAPTER ONE
BRISA MONTERO LOVED the spotlight. Other people were at home in boardrooms or operating rooms or airplane cockpits, but Brisa understood what was expected of her when she was center stage.
Stages themselves weren’t even necessary; only the audience mattered. The most exclusive hotel on Miami’s South Beach had built a small stage for her father’s rooftop cocktail party. Brisa had been a nervous wreck to step up on it this time, but she’d done it.
She and her sister, Reyna, had managed to win a significant battle of wills on the stage that efficient hotel staff were now dismantling.
Brisa was going to have a chance to run Concord Court, the townhome complex her father had built to house veterans leaving military service while they pursued new careers or educational opportunities. Luis Montero had intended to lure Reyna home with Concord Court, a safe way to continue serving and add some luster to the family name at the same time. Instead, Reyna made her own way as she always had, and Brisa had stepped up. No one expected Brisa to do as well as Reyna, but the job was hers.
More important than the job was the shot at proving herself to her family. Another shot.
After years of failures.
This could be her last shot.
Making firm fists kept her hands from trembling. Brisa knew how to convince others that she was fine. A sparkling smile. The graceful touch of a shoulder as she worked the crowd. Always nodding at the right spot in the conversation.
That was her version of automatic pilot to guarantee the smooth operation of one of her father’s philanthropic events.
But the size of the job she’d fought to get and the high stakes were sinking in.
“You ready to go, babe?” Reggie Beaumont asked, one hand on the door that led from the hotel’s rooftop to the small cocktail bar and the elevators beyond. In the other hand? His trusty cell phone. Apparently, he’d finished making the phone calls that had kept him busy all night long. He’d missed her big victory completely. “The car’s downstairs waiting. I’ll drop you off wherever you need to go.” He was tall and handsome in a perfectly tailored suit that fit her father’s tastes to a T, even if a professional athlete would never have been Luis Montero’s idea of a suitable partner for one of his daughters.
That fact was Reggie’s best feature.
Brisa straightened her shoulders. Earlier in the evening, she’d wanted a confidence boost from him, but he’d been occupied talking to his agent. His contract negotiations were making headlines.
Most of the time, Reggie’s lack of attention didn’t bother Brisa at all. Reggie’s number one job was to keep her father’s matchmaking attempts at bay. For that, he was perfect. They had the best understanding; nothing was serious between them. No emotional ties were expected.
Tonight was the first time she wished for the support of someone who cared for her as more than an acquaintance who opened the right doors and posed beautifully in press photos.
But the night was over. She didn’t need him anymore.
“I’ve got to stay behind, make sure everything is taken care of. You go ahead.” Brisa ran a hand down his lapel. “Thanks for watching my back again, handsome.”
Mindful of the small audience that might still be watching them, Reggie held her for a minute before kissing her cheek. “Anytime, beautiful, especially if the club is catering. Can’t get enough of their shrimp.” Then he held up a hand and stepped inside without hesitating. Why would he? All the people that mattered had left. Even the hotel staff was dwindling. The musicians had been the first to go. The caterers were wrapping up.
“Your sister has gone already,” her father said as he stopped in front of her. “Not that we enjoyed much of her and Wakefield’s attention after your announcement. They managed to find an invisible corner for...conversation.” Luis Montero cleared his throat. Brisa would bet every dollar her father had that Reyna and Sean Wakefield had been doing more kissing than talking; her father was no dummy, either. Brisa had missed their courtship, but it was impossible to miss the way they stared at each other now. “I should not have been ambushed by you and your sister like this, Brisa. Do not suppose I have let it go. It was an underhanded maneuver, switching jobs like that. It might occasionally be appropriate in business, but where is the place for that in this family?” He tugged his suit coat to eliminate any wrinkle that had the audacity to appear.
Brisa bit back her immediate argument and exchanged a glance with Marisol. Her stepmother had been her biggest ally all these years Reyna had been stationed elsewhere with the Air Force. Ironing out a relationship with her father’s third wife had taken some time, but Marisol had proven to be an ally in negotiations with Brisa’s father. Brisa’s mother sometimes remembered to send cards on birthdays, and her first stepmother was friendly enough now that Brisa and her sister were adults, but Marisol had stayed. Even faced with a teenage Brisa, she’d stayed. They were so close now, they could communicate without speaking. Her stepmom’s expression said, Be careful, but be strong.
It was good advice. Slipping back into her normal pattern with her father was easy, even if it didn’t fit perfectly. She loved him. He loved her. There was never any doubt about that.
Brisa squeezed her father’s hand. “Daddy, we tried using logic. You know that’s always Reyna’s first choice. When that failed, Montero stubbornness kicked in. Reyna deserves to live her dream. She wants to be a firefighter.” Her older sister had already been a decorated military officer and pilot so it made perfect sense she would need a big second career. Brisa wasn’t going to spend any more time resenting that. She was so happy to have Reyna home full-time that falling under her shadow again wasn’t an issue. “Just like I deserve a chance to run Concord Court. I can do this.” She was almost sure she could. With Reyna’s support and Sean Wakefield in his spot, taking care of the operations at the Court, and some luck, she could do this.
“Of course, you deserve this. You’ve been involved from the beginning, working at your father’s side,” Marisol agreed softly. “Your concept for the small business lab to support veteran-owned businesses? Genius. And nobody else came up with it.” Not Reyna. Not Luis Montero. Marisol didn’t add the last part, but the way her father frowned at his wife convinced Brisa he’d read between the lines.
“No more sneaking around. The two of you together...” He sighed. “I should have expected this, I suppose. You were always troublesome when you were together. The summer you plotted to build a tree house using the remnants of the old garden toolshed is hard to forget.”
“We never meant to make the gardener cry.” They’d wanted a place to paint and play and build and be free of the heavy weight of the Montero house’s expectations. Her father had always preferred furniture and architecture that carried the importance and richness of history. His second wife had even kept an interior designer on retainer for decor emergencies. Brisa and Reyna had been good at creating those emergencies.
“I’ll tell my gardener that when I meet with him next. I’m sure it will be a comfort to him, after all this time, that scaring him out of ten years of his life by falling out of the tree was only an accident, not an intentional decision.” Her father didn’t smile. He didn’t make jokes. Never had.
Brisa clamped her hand over her left wrist. Covering up the scar there from where she’d broken it during that fall was a nervous habit.
That scar was no one’s fault but her own. She’d begged Reyna to help her convince their father they needed a tree house. After he’d said no, Reyna had been determined they would do it on their own. Neither she nor her sister had understood the weakness of rotten wood at that point.
“I’ll be watching your work at Concord Court closely, daughter.” Her father dipped his chin and crooked his elbow. Marisol hugged Brisa before she slipped her hand through the bend in his arm. Their eyes met again and the quirk to her stepmother’s lips was sweet. Openly mocking her father was a step too far, but being amused by him was part of Brisa’s bond to Marisol.
“I’ll need your help, Daddy. You know that. I know it, too.” Brisa tipped her chin up. “But this is going to work.” It had to. The fact that she’d been working so hard to learn the ropes and even expand the programs offered at Concord Court should have been evidence of her capability. However, reminding her father that they’d been sneaking around under his nose that way was a terrible idea.
“I want it to, Brisa. This must be a new chapter for the Monteros.” He studied her face before nodding. “We’ll talk this week. Expect me on Monday.”
Marisol winked and they disappeared inside the cocktail bar.
Brisa braced her arms on the rooftop’s wall. “Great job, Brisa. You plan parties better than anyone I know. String music at sunset with a view of the ocean was a nice change from the club. You’ve done it again. Everything went off without a hitch, even though I don’t pay you to do this.” Brisa threw her arms out. “In fact, I don’t even ask you to do this anymore. I just assume you owe me your unpaid labor.”
Because I pay all your bills.
Brisa’s shoulders slumped as she realized that being irritated at her father’s treatment of her and expectations was weakened spectacularly because the unspoken part had been true for too long.
“Is this a conversation anyone can join?” a man asked from behind her. Brisa took a minute to set her smile in place. Being rude to one of her father’s friends wouldn’t help her case at this point. This wasn’t the first time one of them had hung around to introduce himself. Politely brushing off dinner invitations had grown much easier over the years.
As she turned, their eyes locked and it took longer than Brisa liked to realize who he was. He had on a nice but unremarkable suit with a dark tie and a plain watch. In this crowd, clothes shouted money. His said he worked hard for a living that didn’t include custom suits.
This wasn’t the first time she’d noticed him that evening, but it had always been a split second before the nerves over her announcement that she was stepping up to lead at Concord Court had washed over her and she would lose sight of him in the crowd.
That itch in her brain that convinced her she knew him, but couldn’t recall his name returned.
Then she realized who he was.
The suit had confused her. His hard stare had thrown her off. In his Military Match profile, Wade McNally had worn the Navy’s khaki service uniform. She remembered dark hair with touches of silver at the temples. Dark eyes. Impressive career as a Navy surgeon. Firm jaw and the implacable expression her sister sometimes used to put people in their place. He was the man she’d chosen for Reyna, the future date who would act as Reggie did, and thwart their father’s matchmaking attempts to form dynastic unions with other well-meaning corporate elites.
But what was he doing here?
Brisa had ended everything with Wade McNally as soon as her sister had kissed Sean Wakefield in a dark corner of the pool area at Concord Court, in full view of the informal group that had gathered there. Brisa had confessed to Wade via text that she’d been running the Military Match ad for her sister, who had no idea she was doing so, and then quickly removed the profile she’d built for Reyna.
That should have worked. Ghosting. Wasn’t that what they called it when a match disappeared? Brisa had never tried a dating app; Wade McNally probably wasn’t an expert, either.
But here he was.
“Don’t let me interrupt.” Wade braced a shoulder against the doors, cutting off her only graceful exit. “I can wait until you finish talking to yourself to ask my questions.”
Hmm. Her best defense had always been evasion. Could she still get out of this?
“Have we met?” Brisa tried as she watched the last of the hotel workers push two carts between them. Wade held the door open for them.
Then they were alone.
“Have we been introduced? Not officially, no. You’re wondering why I’m here, how I’m here tonight. Your father invited me.” Wade moved away from the door. She could escape if she wanted to, but he was studying her closely. “I met Luis at a hospital board meeting this week. I’m starting a new job as a trauma surgeon and the chief of staff wanted to introduce me.”
At one point, she’d asked if he was ready to meet Reyna, before the kiss at the pool, and he’d explained he was in the process of moving to Miami. Apparently, that move was finished.
“Trauma surgeon. You’re kind of a big deal. That’s my father’s favorite type of introduction,” Brisa said and then cleared her throat when he didn’t politely chuckle.
Wade put one hand in his pocket. Nothing about him suggested he was amused by their conversation. “Luis was full of pride about Concord Court and this party he was throwing to introduce his daughter, Reyna, the Air Force veteran, to his clients and friends. He wanted to brag about all the good work she was doing there, the programs, the number of veterans they’d be able to serve in a new way.
“Since I’d only heard of one other Reyna, an Air Force pilot also living in Miami, one who was being used in a strange catfishing scheme through Military Match, the dating app I joined a month ago...” Wade straightened his tie. “When he invited me, I came. I couldn’t miss a chance to meet the one woman I’ve been interested in on the cursed dating app, even if she had never been real in the first place because her sister was playing matchmaker without permission.”
As Brisa considered what she might say in response to his cold, harsh words, she realized how tired she was. In that minute, everything hurt. She’d been working full days at Concord Court and handling all the last-minute details of completing a bloodless takeover under her father’s nose and throwing a Montero-level party. She stepped out of her heels and immediately felt better.
“Why am I not shocked his second daughter didn’t make the sales pitch to the important new trauma surgeon,” Brisa muttered to herself before she tilted her chin up. “I’m sorry. I never should have involved you in our family drama. I was trying to help my sister because I still haven’t learned that I make a mess of things that Reyna never would. I didn’t learn it at twenty or thirty. At this point, I might be a lost cause.” She shook a finger at him. “Mister Navy Surgeon being recruited by hospitals all over the United States after years of dedicated service to your country. You might have a hot mess sibling, too. It happens that way. One who can do no wrong, and then the other child.” Charm. It had always worked.
Wade shook his head. “Only child. Grew up in foster care. Can’t relate.”
Brisa had no answer for that. The tension between them grew heavy.
“At least you aren’t trying to pretend you don’t know who I am.” Anymore. Wade didn’t add that last part. Brisa appreciated that his manner might not mean chuckling politely at her chatter, but he had some gentlemanly impulses.
“Did you come for an apology?” Brisa touched her lips to draw his attention there and moved on to the next play in her playbook for the adorable apology. “I’m sorry. If you were here long enough, you know that everything I told you about Reyna was true. She is impressive. I didn’t know she and Sean were falling for each other. I ended things as soon as I did.”
It was the truth. The truth was always her final gambit.
“I came to meet her face-to-face, introduce myself. I don’t quit as easily as you expected, and from everything I observed and our short conversation, your sister is exactly the kind of woman I’d hope to meet,” Wade said. “You told the truth about her. I cannot fault you for that.”
“I only forgot the minor detail of whether she was actually single.” Brisa rolled her eyes and ignored the twist in her stomach at hearing another man, someone who wasn’t her father, say her older sister was perfect. Reyna was great, but she wasn’t perfect. She’d be the first person to tell him that, too.
If her sister found out that Brisa had tried this, that mildly disappointed frown that Reyna had worn for months after she’d come home would return, along with the expectation that Brisa would flake out on them in this new arrangement for Concord Court.
“I was still curious whether Reyna wanted a guy like me.” Wade shook his head. “Or a date at all.”
“I have excellent taste, Wade. The two of you would have been great together.” Brisa frowned. She wanted to offer him something better than words, but what? “Can I apologize again? It was the old me. I can’t make these mistakes anymore.”
“The old you? From a week or two ago?” Wade tipped his head to the side as he considered that, and Brisa had to smile. He did have a sense of humor somewhere.
If he’d accept her apology, this mess could be untangled before Reyna or her father ever learned of it. Brisa would never do this again. No one would be the wiser.
Then the realization turned into a hard knot in her stomach.
“You didn’t mention any of this to my father, did you?” Brisa asked, dread intensifying the fatigue until she sagged against the wall for support.
Wade frowned. “Of course not.” His lips tightened. “You’re exhausted.” He ran a hand through his hair. It was longer than in any of the pictures he’d put on his profile, another reason she’d had trouble recognizing him. It suited him. His military cut had given him a hard, determined presence. Tonight, he was still determined, but he was also a hot laid-back guy in a suit.
“I am. I also understand that having good intentions doesn’t change anything.” Brisa shook her head. “Someday I’ll learn that lesson and then watch out, world. I’ll be unstoppable.” She tried an honest grin. Men appreciated a woman who acknowledged her flaws, didn’t they?
“I accept your apology,” Wade said.
Relieved, Brisa relaxed. A gentleman. She wasn’t going to have to plot and plan and recover from this mess.
“But forgiving isn’t the same as forgetting.” Wade bent to pick up her strappy sandals and gripped them in one hand before opening the door. “Let’s go have a seat inside the bar. You’ll be more comfortable there. We still have some things to discuss.”
Brisa met his stare. He wasn’t going to let her off the hook with only a heartfelt apology. Also, he had her favorite shoes.
She could listen. She owed him that much. She’d sit, have a drink, offer whatever help she could and gather enough energy to make it through the lobby and into a cab that would take her home. Alone.
When his hand settled in the small of her back, infusing her with a touch of his strength and a restless energy, Brisa fought off a shiver. On paper, Wade had been perfect for Reyna. In person, he was so much more.
