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“And you wonder where I get all my verbal prowess from? Well, fuck! Might as well get this over with.”

In order to calm my nerves, I took one deep breath and let it out before I picked up the phone in the kitchen, knowing Arthur and whoever else was near the front counter would overhear the conversation I didn’t want to have.

“Hello?”

“Phoenix?”

“Yes, Suzy, it’s me. What do you need?”

There was a long pause and shuffling of something in the background before she cleared her throat. The wait seemed interminable as I held in a sigh, not speaking as she gathered her thoughts. Or at least I hope she would get to the point sooner rather than later.

“Your father is in the hospital.”

The bored, monotone way it which she relayed what she most likely suspected might be bad news for me led me to the conclusion that she was holding something back. If my father, who supported her through their entire marriage so she didn’t have to work a day in her life, was close to death’s door, she would be in hysterics.

The reason; there was no way Hale Aalto would leave his fortune to her. If there was any sympathy in my body for her or for my father, I would have conveyed my knowledge of what the man planned to do with his money. But since I didn’t, I hung up the phone and pulled my mobile from my pocket.

After fifteen minutes of searching, I found out the best hospital in the city that dealt with heart problems and was aboutto call when Luka and Burton burst through the kitchen doors, their frantic eyes searching my face.

I held up my hands and said, “She’s lying. There’s something going on and I’m about to find out what, but it’s not as serious as she made it seem.”

When I started working at Hale’s real estate company, the man listed me as his emergency contact despite being remarried for close to twelve years. I knew he hadn’t taken me off since the man burned bridges wherever he worked and despite our distance; I was still his son. Suzy calling me was a ploy, and since I hadn’t heard from a medical professional, it was all bullshit.

I dialed the main number for Massachusetts General. Two sets of arms wrapped around me and I chuckled, patting both of them on the arm.

“Yes, I’m Hale Aalto’s son, Phoenix Kavka-Horváth, and I’m checking on his condition.”

“One moment, please.”

“Dr. Bradeem,” came an unfamiliar voice on the line.

“Yes, Dr. Bradeem, my name is Phoenix. My father is a patient at your hospital and I wanted to check his condition.”

“Ah, yes, Hale Aalto. Your father arrived and checked into the ER at a quarter till ten this morning with complaints of chest pains and numbness in his extremities. We monitored his condition for the next three hours and detected no anomalies in his EKG, blood pressure, or blood tests. After ruling out all possibilities, there is no diagnosis, and I found nothing physically wrong with your father. I wanted to discharge him to rest at home, but Mr. Aalto refuses. He’s insisting you will be there to discharge him and take him home to care for him.”

I inhaled a deep breath to hold in all my frustration at the situation, because the doctor wasn’t to blame, so I pinched my nose and reveled when both men tightened their hold on me.

“For clarification, Dr. Bradeem. There is nothing medically wrong with Hale, nor is there any reason he needs to be in the hospital. Is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“And based on the tests you’ve run and the bloodwork that has come back, is Hale healthy and at this time in no danger of dying?”

I heard the smile in the doctor’s voice when he replied,“No, he is in perfect health and the tests do not show any characteristics of heart problems that would require him to be hospitalized. My professional opinion is that Mr. Hale Aalto is in good shape for a man of his age.”

With a determination that was becoming all too familiar, I said, “Well, Dr. Bradeem, I appreciate you taking the time to speak with me today. I will not be making my way to your hospital and discharging Hale Aalto. He’s capable of making it home on his own. But a word of advice, I would get your billing department to charge him double for every single test you and your staff performed, account for all the equipment used, and hell, even bill him per hour for use of the bed he’s in right now because trust me he can afford it, and then kick him out. I’m sorry he wasted your time.”

“Well, that’s a first, but thank you for calling me and giving me the story. This was certainly entertaining.”

With a few more words exchanged, I hung up and sighed out in exasperation.

“Arthur?” I shouted.

I snagged a kiss from both of my men before I strode toward the refrigerator and removed the wrapped sandwiches we would have set out for the lunch rush. But since it was a romantic holiday, customers purchased sweets rather than savory dishes and we had leftovers, a lot of them.

“Yes,” my best friend elongated his answer as the swinging door creaked open.

“I’m making a platter for the staff in the emergency department at Massachusetts General. Can you send Matthew over with the delivery?”