Page 27 of Love or Leave (Mapleton #4)

twenty-two

A ntonio grabbed a steaming cup of coffee and sat at the desk in the back of the emergency room.

He had about a million things to get done.

Normally, everything would have overwhelmed him, but a calm wash of peace settled over him after Cara agreed to be his girlfriend the night before, and he doubted anything could disturb it.

Every problem in his life was finally falling into place.

His future was brighter than ever with Cara. Sure, they'd got off to a rocky start, and she hadn't seemed one hundred percent convinced of his motivations, but he was certain that once Max was in the loop and everyone got over the shock of it all, they would move on and be better than ever.

All he had to do was come clean to Max and assure him he wouldn't ever hurt Cara. Which would be easy enough, since that was the very last thing he'd ever do.

He took a drink of his coffee and pulled out his phone. There was a never-ending list of things he needed to get done, and he only had about twenty minutes before rounds, so he started on it.

He emailed his new landlord to confirm the time he'd arrive to move in that weekend. He ordered more moving boxes, and he replied to the group chat message that Chelsea had sent, officially inviting him to their rehearsal dinner.

He couldn't wait to go to the rehearsal with Cara as his date. Actually, there were a lot of things he couldn't wait to do with Cara. He'd already started brainstorming date ideas he could take her on, since they hadn't had a proper first date yet.

They could go stargazing. And out for dinner where he could look at her without being secretive about it. He could find out if there was a board game night coming up somewhere.

It was nice to think about it all. But before he could actually start his relationship with her properly, he had to jump the last hurdle with Max.

But how?

He wanted to do it face to face, not over the phone. He checked the time. After work would be okay, he could go to the pub. A public place with witnesses would probably be prudent.

He took a few deep breaths, then hit the call button on his cell.

Max answered after the first ring. "Hey."

"Hey, how's it going?" So far, so good.

"Good," Max said. "What's up?"

Okay, here we go. "Just wondering if you want to grab a beer later."

"Can't. I have sound therapy with Willow and Jer tonight," he said.

Antonio laughed.

"You wanna come?"

Shit. He really wanted to be alone to talk to Max about it, but not with Willow and Jer around. It was bad enough Adam and Ethan knew already. But he couldn't really do anything about that.

"No, that's okay," Antonio said. "I've got a lot of packing to do. Maybe I could stop by tomorrow?"

"I have meetings all day tomorrow. How 'bout Sunday?"

"I'm moving to my new apartment Sunday morning, but I can—"

"I'll help you move," Max said.

Help him move?

No.

Nothing would make him feel like a bigger piece of shit than having his friend hoisting an eight million pound pullout couch while he told him he dated his sister behind his back, lied to him about it, but now she's his girlfriend.

"Nah," Antonio said, shaking his head back and forth. "I've got it under control—"

"Just take the help, Ant."

Antonio glanced around, searching for any excuse he could use. "I don't have much stuff," he said. "We can meet up for a beer after. Around four?"

"No," Max said. "I'll be at your place Sunday morning. Eight."

"You really don't—"

"Not taking no," Max said. "See you then."

Before Antonio could shut the conversation down, Max hung up.

Antonio ran a hand through his hair and slouched back in his chair. Why did he do this? And why did Max have to be such a good friend?

He shook it off and sat up. He'd just have to tell Max before he lifted a single finger. That way, he could still punch him and walk away, and Antonio wouldn't feel like an even worse friend than he already was.

"Hey, I need you."

Antonio turned in his chair and saw his Ramit standing in the doorway. He was supposed to be doing rounds. "What's up?"

"There's a patient asking for you," he said, looking at the file. "Maybe family?"

Antonio stood, his stomach dropping. Hopefully not his dad. Or mom. "Who is it?"

"Elliot Beebe."

“Ugh.” His lip curled in annoyance.

Ramit smirked. "So not family?"

"Far from it," Antonio said.

"He says his rash is getting worse. He asked for you. Bed three."

Antonio took the file with a sigh and started toward the bed, telling himself to keep it professional. But when he arrived and pulled back the curtain, he saw Elliott there all alone.

Good.

"Hello," Antonio greeted him.

Elliott turned and smiled. "Hey, thanks for seeing me."

Antonio gave a nod. "So, the rash isn't clearing up?"

He shook his head. "Fran refused to help," he said. "I did my best, but I think it's getting worse."

He nodded again, ignoring the mention of his ex-wife and flipped through the file. The prescription he'd wrote was pretty potent and should have gotten the job done, but if he wasn't applying it properly, it obviously wouldn't work.

There was a stronger antihistamine he could prescribe. A course of antibiotics would get on top of any potential infection.

"You need something stronger," Antonio said, pulling a pair of blue latex gloves from the box on the wall.

Elliott nodded and pulled down his zipper. "I need someone stronger, too. Fran's too delicate, you know?"

Antonio kept his face neutral and told himself to say nothing. Elliott and Fran were in his past, and all he cared about was his future. With Cara.

He inspected the rash on Elliott's ass. It hadn't got worse, but it certainly wasn't getting any better. The stronger cream would definitely help.

"Okay," Antonio said, signalling that they were done and removing the gloves. "We'll try a different cream and a course of antibiotics. That should clear it up."

Elliott zipped his pants up and smiled. "Thanks," he said. "How long do you think it will take?"

Antonio shrugged. "A few days to a week."

Elliott sighed. "I was hoping it would be quicker. I don't think I can last another week under Fran."

Antonio's brows pulled together. He tried to ignore Elliott's words but couldn't any longer.

"Are you and Fran… over?"

Elliott nodded emphatically. "Oh yeah," he said. "She's horrible. I've never met someone so… Well, you know how she is."

Antonio knew he should shrug it off, walk away, ignore everything. But he didn't.

"Why are you staying with her, then?"

Elliott gave him a slimy smile. "I'm not going to break up with her yet. I'll do it after my rash clears."

"You said she's not helping you."

"Well, she does my laundry and cooks," he said. "She's not a good cook, but my ass is burning like a bitch. I can't do it on my own."

Antonio stared at him for a moment, wondering why he was acting like they were friends. And wondering why he even cared. "So you're just using her?"

Elliott shrugged again. "What choice do I have?"

Antonio opened his mouth, then closed it.

None of this was his business. He didn't want to be with Fran. What she did and who she did it with weren't even on his radar anymore.

But Elliott's face and general attitude sickened him. Why would he take advantage of her like that?

He wordlessly scribbled the prescription on his pad, ripped off the paper, and tossed it on the bed.

"You're a piece of shit," Antonio said. "Don't ask for me again."

Elliott's eyes widened in shock, but Antonio didn't stick around long enough for a response. He turned, pushed through the curtain, and walked away.

What a douche bag.

He was happy to move on from Fran. Being with Cara made him realize they’d never been a good match for each other. It was so obvious how much better suited he and Cara were.

But Fran had been his best friend growing up, and his wife for ten years. He didn't want her to be taken advantage of.

He thought back and forth for a moment, then finally decided he would at least relay the information Elliott shared. So he sent a text to Maria telling her what had happened. Maria replied, asking if he wanted her to tell Fran, and he said yes.

There. Done.

His good deed for the day.

Now he could move on, focus on his new apartment and his new girlfriend, and figure out what he was going to say to Max. It was all uphill from there.