It's Only You. Sheryl Lister

hard body, and seemingly an all-around good guy—yep, he was something.

      Eve laughed.

      “What?”

      “You’re daydreaming again. What does he look like?”

      “A little over six feet, handsome, muscles—”

      “In other words, fine as hell.”

      Simona smiled and nodded. “Yes, he is.” She pushed to her feet. “I’m wiped out. I need to hit the shower and go to bed. Did you have any problems tonight?”

      Eve stood. “Not a one. She’s an angel. Woke up an hour ago for a few minutes but went right back to sleep.” She went over to the dining room table and gathered up her belongings. “I’ll see you later.”

      Simona walked her neighbor to the door and waited until Eve went inside her house before closing her own door. Simona picked up the monitor off the table, turned off the lights and went down the short hallway to the first bedroom. A nightlight illuminated the baby lying in her crib. Simona stood staring at her niece’s small form for several minutes, the covers rising and falling in rhythm as she slept.

      Yasmine had been born two months prematurely to Simona’s twenty-two-year-old younger sister—her namesake—who had died in childbirth as a result of injuries she’d sustained in a car accident. Although they were able to save the baby, her sister and her sister’s fiancé hadn’t been as fortunate. Simona still couldn’t believe that her sister was gone, but her niece reminded her of that fact daily. Yasmine had spent six weeks in the NICU after birth and was on a ventilator for the first two. So far, there hadn’t been any more problems, but Simona kept a close watch on her.

      Simona’s grandmother had wanted to raise Yasmine, but taking care of a small baby was too much for Nana, so Simona had driven to Oakland two months ago and brought the baby back to LA. Fortunately, after Simona explained her dilemma, Mrs. Battle, the charge nurse, allowed her to change her schedule to four eight-hour days a week.

      Simona stood a few minutes longer, smiling at the miniature version of her sister as sadness rose up once again. Seven years Yasmine’s senior, Simona had been close with her baby sister, and she missed Yasmine’s infectious laughter and zeal for life. Looking down at her sleeping niece, Simona vowed to raise the little girl with all the love in her heart, just as Yasmine would have done. She leaned down and brushed a soft kiss on her eleven-month-old niece’s forehead, checked the baby monitor to make sure it was on and continued to her bedroom.

      Thirty minutes later, freshly showered, Simona pulled back the bed covers, laid her worn-out body down and groaned. She was exhausted, and with any luck, she’d be able to get a few hours of sleep before Yasmine woke up.

      Automatically, her mind went back to Donovan. His hands on her had created sensations she hadn’t felt in a long time, and she wished she could have stayed in his arms all night. Her eyes snapped open. Where had that thought come from? She’d spent the past year purposely staying away from men, and now she lay fantasizing about one.

      “You’re just exhausted, Simona,” she mumbled to herself. Given the circumstances, it was natural to have these types of feelings, she assured herself. She closed her eyes again, but Donovan’s handsome face wouldn’t leave her. It took a while, but she finally drifted off.

      * * *

      Time seemed to accelerate, and before she knew it, Simona was walking across the hospital parking lot Tuesday to start her shift. Dealing with the fast pace of an emergency room at only twenty-nine, Simona thought she had good endurance. But adjusting to Yasmine’s routine and working four days a week was proving to be more of a challenge than she’d envisioned.

      The first few hours went by in a blur, and she was more than ready to sit for a minute when her lunch break came around. Yet no matter how tired she felt, somehow Donovan always worked his way into her psyche. Would she ever see him again? She told herself she only wanted to see him to make sure he was okay, but knew she lied. His concern for her well-being had gone far beyond the call of duty and was truly touching. While eating, her thoughts strayed to Donovan. Again. As much as she wanted to call him, she didn’t feel right about getting his information from the hospital records. So she would have to be content with the memory of her knight.

      * * *

      “Thanks. I’ll have the contract out to you by the beginning of next week.” Donovan hung up, finished making notes on the contract sheet and called in his secretary. It was only Tuesday, and the week promised to be a long one.

      “Yes, Donovan.”

      He glanced up from the papers. “Monique, I just confirmed the two dates for Monte at the Catalina Island JazzTrax Festival in October and the Nokia Theater in November.” He handed her the papers. “Can you type up the contracts and have them ready for Brad by tomorrow?”

      She accepted the sheets and handed him a telephone message. “Sure. Mrs. Lake from the Artistic Inspirations Foundation called again. She wanted to confirm whether Monte would still be conducting the vocal and piano workshops at the upcoming art camp. I told her we’d call her back because I didn’t know if he’d be available since the baby came early.”

      The nonprofit foundation worked tirelessly to promote the importance of music and the arts in schools and the community. Thanks to generous donations, every summer they hosted a two-week day camp for students in grades four through twelve to experience the arts. At the end of the two weeks, the foundation put on an art show and concert.

      “Okay. I’ll check with him and call her back. Thanks.”

      “If you don’t need anything else, I’m going to head out.”

      He glanced up at the wall clock to see it was already past five. “No. Have a good evening.”

      “You, too. See you in the morning.”

      Donovan followed her out to the hallway but went in the opposite direction, toward Terrence’s office. He found Terrence’s secretary standing at the file cabinet. “Hey, Mrs. Lewis. I’m sorry I didn’t get over here sooner.”

      “Oh, don’t worry about it. I know you’ve got your hands full. Have you talked to Monte today?”

      “No. I haven’t talked to him since last Friday at the hospital.” He’d hit the ground running yesterday and barely had time to show her the pictures of Nadia.

      “Well, I know you’ll be dropping by his home sometime this week, so can you take this with you?” She rounded her desk, pulled an envelope from a drawer and handed it to him. “Tell him and Janae I said congratulations.”

      “Okay. Is there anything I need to know or anything that has come up?”

      “Audrey stopped by earlier and took care of a few things, but other than that, no.”

      He nodded. “I won’t keep you, then. See you—”

      “What happened to your arm?” she asked, cutting him off.

      Donovan followed her gaze to his left arm. He had forgotten that he’d rolled his sleeves up. “Oh, it’s nothing.”

      She frowned. “Donovan Wright, nothing wouldn’t require stitches.” She planted her hands on her hips and glared at him, waiting.

      Her tone, as well as the accompanying look, had him spilling his guts about the incident in the hospital hallway.

      “Oh, my word! You were lucky. Burns can be nasty. Is the young lady all right?”

      “I noticed her rubbing her hip where the cart hit her, but she said she was fine.”

      “Thank goodness. I know she’s grateful you were there. Have you checked on her since then?”

      He hadn’t and wanted to kick himself for not getting her phone number. “No, but I will. I know it’s quitting time for you. I’ll walk you out,” he said, changing the subject.

      She smiled.