Page 2 of Fierce-Jax (Fierce Matchmaking #18)

TO BE NOSY

F our Years Later

“I’m not sure what that rash is, Jax,” Dr. Davis said.

He looked down at the mixture of red and pink bumps along with the remnants of scratches on his right hand.

Talk about embarrassing.

There was no way to hide it unless he kept gloves on his hands nonstop.

No disguise for it.

Nothing he used got rid of it either.

A pimply mess that reminded him of an acne outbreak on half of his friends in middle school.

“It’s been there for a few weeks,” he said. “I’d think it was gone and then it returns.”

Dr. Davis’s head went back and forth a few times. “Stress maybe? Have you been under a lot of it lately?”

Who the hell didn’t have stress in their life in a job like his?

He ran one of the biggest not-for-profits in the area. Was always short-staffed. Just moved to a new location a week ago, and now had to look at this disgusting mess on his hand, praying it didn’t spread to any other part of his body.

“Just the normal,” he said.

“You could be allergic to something,” Dr. Davis said. “Your best bet is to see a dermatologist. They will have a better idea and can clear it up.”

He held in the sigh that wanted to escape.

Another doctor he’d have to find the time to see.

“Do you know how long it could be to get in?” he asked.

Jax was a friendly guy. Someone who shook hands with everyone.

No way he was right now so they could see his rash and worry he’d pass it to them.

So he almost came off like an ass. Or had to explain why he didn’t want to shake. He had no idea what this was and it was smack dab on the top of his hand for all to see as if it was a red-eyed monster waiting to gobble everyone up.

“There aren’t a lot of dermatologists in the area,” Dr. Davis said. “And there could be a long wait. Your best bet is to get on their cancellation list.”

“I think there is one in my building,” Jax said. He remembered that now. The building was still under construction, but a few offices were already in.

“What’s the name?” Dr. Davis said.

“Dr. Patrick, I think,” he said. “I can’t remember the first name.”

His doctor was typing into his computer. “Dillion Patrick. I’ll have your record sent over in a few. Give it until this afternoon and call to see if you can get an appointment.”

“Thanks,” he said.

He was walking out when the woman behind the counter said, “Bye, Jax.”

She gave him a little silly wave that he returned. “Bye, Heidi.”

She flushed as if she was stunned he knew her name. Hard not to with the nameplate right there as he went to the window. He paid attention to those things, always wanting people to feel appreciated and have his attention while he was in front of them.

He left his doctor’s office and drove the few miles to work.

When he was walking into the new Fierce-owned building, he looked at the wall of occupants with the digital diagram next to the names and saw Dr. Dillion Patrick was on the third floor and down the hall.

He was on the sixth floor and went to the stairs over the elevator.

It never hurt to get some exercise in and would help him walk off his frustration over this rash not going anywhere anytime soon.

“Morning, Jax,” Delaney said to him when he pulled the door open.

The strong tart smell of fresh paint and carpet still lingered in the air.

“Morning, Delaney,” he said. “How was your long weekend?”

They’d had Martin Luther King Day off yesterday.

“It was nice,” Delaney said. “And yours?”

“Good as always,” he said, moving toward his office in the back before he got sucked into more conversations like always.

Being the nice boss did have its drawbacks.

His weekend was spent working and then yesterday he took his nephew, Eli, to the movies and out to dinner.

His sister, Roni, was the building manager for Fierce, which included this building and their first one a mile away.

Her new husband, Trent, was an attorney located at the other building.

They both had to work yesterday and there was no reason for Eli to go to childcare for the day when he enjoyed spending time with him.

At thirty-three, Jax thought he’d have a family of his own by now, but that was the one thing not falling into place as well as he would have liked.

He was waving to staff in their offices and cubicles as he walked by.

“When you have a minute,” Nora said, “I’d like to talk to you.”

“Give me five,” he said, smiling at one of the accountants.

He put his bag down, pulled out his lunch, and stuck it in the mini fridge in his office. He’d bought it for himself since every time he got up to go into the break room for anything, he was stopped for thirty minutes or more by someone wanting to chat or ask his opinion or advice.

His open-door policy sometimes bit him in the ass, like now when he looked up to see Kent standing there. One of his program directors. Since Kent’s program wasn’t run out of this office but he rather oversaw residential homes and worked there, it meant he was here for a reason.

“Sorry to bother you,” Kent said. “Got a minute?”

It was never a minute with anyone.

“Sure,” he said. “But Nora will be here in five, so you’ve got about three.”

He was grinning when he said that. Otherwise people would stay in here for hours chatting.

Being the good guy didn’t always get people out of your office when you had shit to do.

“I’ve got a personnel issue,” Kent said. “I’m on top of it, but it might get sticky. I wanted to keep you in the loop, but three minutes isn’t going to be enough. I stopped in to pick up paperwork and hoped you’d be here.”

“Come in,” he said. “Nora will have to wait. I’ll let her know.”

He got up and walked to Nora’s desk, saw her stand up with a pad in front of her, which meant she was coming to talk about multiple things and he didn’t know why she did. She had two bosses ahead of her to go to.

“I was just on my way,” Nora said. She was young. Or younger than him. Probably in her mid-twenties but oftentimes acted like she was fresh out of college with a flirty giggle.

She didn’t have the proper office etiquette in his mind and he was still trying to teach that.

One more thing added to his list when he had a hundred employees alone in this location and hundreds more scattered elsewhere.

“We’ll have to reschedule,” he said. “I need to meet with Kent about something else. If this is a work question, you should be going to Michele or Livi.”

Her smile dropped, which told him it most likely was. “They aren’t here,” Nora said. “Michele is on vacation and Livi will be in tomorrow.”

“I’m sure it can wait,” he said.

“Oh,” Nora said. “I guess it can wait. One of the programs has some requests and I wasn’t sure where to charge them.”

She was batting her eyes at him.

Shit.

This was more about her flirting than it was about needing help he couldn’t give. Just as he expected it was.

“They will have to wait like everyone else,” he said. “Sorry.”

“No problem,” Nora said, forcing another smile on her face. “Hope you had a nice long weekend.”

“I did,” he said. “Hope you did too.” He turned quickly to get back to his office before she took that as a sign to keep gabbing.

Jax never wanted to be rude, but there were way too many times he had to politely tell people that he had to end a conversation because he had things to do.

“Sorry to drop in like this,” Kent said. “Seems like you’ve got a lot going on. Carolyn Fierce just popped her head in looking for you.”

There was no stopping the roll of his eyes.

“She’ll be back if it’s important,” he said.

He’d stop and talk to Grant or Garrett. They owned the building with the Olsens, McCartheys, and Kennedys. But the Fierce women were only married to the owners and their role in this building was to be nosy.

He had enough nosiness in his life with his family and employees that he didn’t need it from outside sources.

Least of all people trying to play matchmaker!

“Tori,” Carolyn Fierce said, popping her head into an office, waving to one of her current matchmaking couples and moving along.

She’d been on her way to talk to Jax, but he had an employee sitting in there while he went to take care of something else.

As much as she wanted to get a head start on their next conquest, she knew enough to not make a nuisance of herself while they were working.

She got off the elevator on the first floor and was walking out when she saw one of her old students moving toward her with a bottle of juice in her hand. Bet she’d come down to the vending machines.

“Dillion,” she said, moving forward. “Fancy meeting you here.”

Dillion grinned. “Mrs. Fierce. You know I’ve been here for a few months. You say that every time you see me. Or come into my office to see me.”

It was a game they played.

“You know me,” she said. “Got to get my jokes in there. And when are you going to stop calling me Mrs. Fierce? It makes me sound so old now.”

Dillion laughed. What a beautiful woman she’d turned out to be.

“I wouldn’t want you to feel old. But you know, we’ve got a thing or two that could help you in my practice if you’re interested.”

Carolyn snorted. She knew Dillion did some cosmetic procedures. Or had staff that did.

“I always say I’ll pass, but if anyone can convince me to get a bit of Botox or filler to reduce the lines my children have put on my face, it’d be you.”

Dillion laughed. “Good thing I’ve got access to it when I need it. At four, Gianna might be turning my hair gray.” Dillion leaned down. “I pulled out two this week. It’s part of my daily routine now searching for them.”

“It’s only beginning,” she said. “Imagine having two sets of twins ages four and two.”

“No,” Dillion said, shaking her head rapidly. “Gianna is four going on fourteen. She scares me. I hope I wasn’t like this with my mother.”

“You were,” she said. “I guarantee it.”

“That’s what I was afraid of,” Dillion said, sighing. “It was nice talking to you. I need to get back to my office.”

“You have a lovely day,” she said, smiling.

Hmmm, Jax and Dillion might look good together.

This day wasn’t a total loss, just a redirection from what she’d started.