New York City Docs. Tina Beckett

slap that reverberated through the studio. Breathing heavily in the absolute silence that followed—since the drums and other instruments had stopped playing—she stood over him, only vaguely aware that he’d suddenly moved with lightning speed, his legs scissoring hers and jerking them out from under her. She fell right across his chest.

       Argh!

      She opened her mouth to yell foul, but instead found herself laughing. He’d learned a thing or two since leaving the studio, evidently. Because even though she’d gotten the best of him, he hadn’t let that stop him from turning things right back around.

      The sound of someone clapping in a slow, rhythmic way broke through everything else.

      “This!” It was Marcos, and far from being angry at how she’d stopped the session he seemed delighted. “There is still that same fire between you. You must bring this to the exhibition.”

      What? Her eyes widened in horror, and she leaped to her feet with a clumsiness she’d never had in the ring before.

       No, no, no!

      This was Marcos’s plan for the big finale he’d talked about?

      There was no way in hell she was going up against Clay during that exhibition. She wouldn’t have even done it now if she’d known her friend was going to throw him into the ring while she was there.

      Clay stood as well, leaning down to her ear. “Did you know about this?”

      Well, if Marcos wasn’t angry, Clay more than made up for it. Because he was furious.

      “No, I did not know.” Her voice came out as a hiss that matched his.

      Several other players came into the circle and slapped Clay on the back, everyone laughing and talking at the same time, completely unaware of the tension flowing between them.

      “What better way to end the exhibition than to have two doctors from West Manhattan Saints enter the roda together?” Marcos smiled at both of them. “We will have posters made up with your pictures and—”

      “I’m sorry. I can’t.” Clay’s voice cut off the spiel in midstream. His easy charm was nowhere to be seen.

      Tessa swallowed hard, trying not to let the pricking sensation in her gut mean anything.

      Marcos countered, “But it will be perfect.”

      Perfect? A perfect disaster maybe.

      She shook her head, agreeing with Clay, even as the jabbing in her midsection increased. “It won’t work. There’s not enough time to practice. The festival is only three weeks away.”

      “I will train you myself. And it will be a good thing if the moves don’t look so planned. It will help people see that anyone can train in capoeira.”

      “Sorry. No.” Clay headed out of the ring, going to where one of the other members held Molly and taking her.

      The little girl, unaware of the tight lines of her father’s jaw, brought the side of her hand down on Clay’s shoulder with a quick whack. “Fun!”

      No, it hadn’t been fun. Clay’s outright rejection hurt more than she wanted to admit, but he was right. Her nerves were stretched to the breaking point just from being in the practice ring with him. If she had to go up against him in front of thousands of people…

      She’d be a wreck.

      No, Clay had made the right call. And if she knew him, nothing would change his mind.

      Not Marcos… or anyone.

      Peter Lloyd was seated behind his desk, writing furiously on a report, when Clay entered the room. He had no idea what the hospital administrator wanted. In fact, he’d only met the man a couple of times. Once when he’d decided to transfer to the hospital to be closer to his apartment and his mom and dad’s place. And the other had been when he’d come in to fill out the paperwork. To be suddenly called down to his office made no sense. Unless there was something he still needed to do to finish his file.

      “Ah, Dr. Matthews, come in and have a seat. I’ll be with you in just a moment.” True to his word, the man kept writing while Clay lowered himself into one of the leather chairs that flanked his desk.

      Nothing like trying to intimidate your prey.

      Only Clay wasn’t intimidated. He’d done nothing wrong.

      Mr. Lloyd glanced up from his papers and pulled another sheet in front of him. “You’ve heard about the yearly Health Can Be Fun festival we hold to fund cancer research by now.”

      Clay immediately tensed. He still hadn’t volunteered to do anything. He’d meant to do it this week, but then the capoeira session had messed with his head. As had Tessa. She seemed just as anxious to avoid being paired together as he was.

      Except in Central Park. She’d certainly seemed willing to be paired in a completely different way when they’d been there.

      “If this is about the sign-up sheet, I know I haven’t put my name on it yet, but I will. I fully intend to support the campaign.”

      Tessa’s mom came to mind. How great would it be if someday cancer no longer took loved ones from their families?

      “Good, good.” The man pushed the paper away. “Glad to hear it because a special opportunity has just presented itself.”

      “It has?” Clay had no idea what the administrator was talking about. But he got the feeling he was about to find out.

      “Actually, the opportunity is for you and Dr. Camara. It’ll provide great exposure for the hospital.”

      His gut clenched. Had Tessa actually come back here and said something about the capoeira studio? She’d seemed just as against it as he was. Or had that all been an act?

      He forced his mouth to say the words. “What exactly does this opportunity entail?”

      Mr. Lloyd sat back in his chair. “I hear that you and Dr. Camara used to train together at one of our sponsor’s studios.”

      He heard the words through a buzzing in his skull that was growing louder by the minute. “Are you talking about Traditional Capoeira of Brazil?”

      “Yes. So you already know what I’m going to ask.”

      Clay shook his head. “Not really.” Actually, he did, but he was hoping against hope he was wrong.

      “The owner of the studio stopped by and made a convincing argument. He said this could be a huge draw to the festival. It would help the studio, and it would help the hospital. A win on both sides.” Mr. Lloyd reached behind his desk and pulled out a rolled-up poster board. When he slid the rubber band off the tube of paper Clay’s clenched gut tightened even further. It was an old snapshot of him and Tessa at his ceremonial induction, when his first cord had been presented to him.

      Tessa’s leg was outstretched and poised just behind his knee. It was right before he’d gone down. Only the image had now been blown up to gargantuan proportions.

      Hell. He and Tessa looked happy.

      Really happy.

      Looking at her face, he could remember what they used to be like together.

      “I don’t think Dr. Camara is going to agree to this. In fact, I’m pretty sure this would not be a good idea.”

      The administrator frowned. “You’re new here, aren’t you, Dr. Matthews.”

      “As of a week ago, yes.” That was when he realized he wasn’t actually being asked if he would like to participate, he was being told.

      “The studio has been one of our sponsors for a number of years. In fact, their exhibitions always attract quite a crowd.” He sent Clay a smile that looked genuine for the most part. “Hell, even my wife went over and took a few lessons