Perfect Fit (3 page)

Spencer jumped at the sting, then rubbed his head. “Son of… Why’d you do that again?” He lowered his hand and glared at Driscoll. “I sure didn’t miss that.”

“You know you love my ‘knock your marbles around so you get some sense’ taps.” Driscoll grinned. “You were thinking something naughty about Reggie. I can always tell. You get this glazed look, and your tongue hangs out like a puppy.” Driscoll demonstrated.

Spencer studied his clearly exaggerated expression and scoffed. “I don’t look like that.”

“I wish I had a camera so I could take a picture to show you that you do.” Driscoll frowned. “Left my cell in my studio. Anyway, that’s not the kind of heated I meant.”

“Regina wouldn’t ever hit me, and I wouldn’t hit her. Not in anger, anyway.” Spencer shifted as his shaft hardened even more.

“I know you wouldn’t hit each other, but you all have been acting unlike yourselves, and words can hurt more than actual blows. The pain from that lasts longer too. I did—” Driscoll’s eyes widened, then he shook his head. “I didn’t understand what you just said about hitting, and now I do. TMI! Oh, God, I don’t need to know your freaky sex life.” Driscoll rubbed his eyes. “I’m not going to think about it. Nope…not going to. I’m never going to be able to look Reggie in the face again.” He rubbed his temple. “Bastard…now I have the image in my head.” He lowered his hand and punched him in the shoulder. “I hate you.”

Spencer grinned. “You love me.” He playfully shoved him in the shoulder. “Come on. I want to tell you. She does this—”

“Nahh…nahhhh…I can’t hear you.” Driscoll shook his head and backed away, then turned and walked rapidly down the hall and out of sight.

Spencer chuckled, rubbing his hands together. He hadn’t planned to actually tell him, but had used the threat to get rid of him. He stopped and pressed his fingers to his temple. Driscoll had said some things that struck close to home. He’d sent the papers the way he had to make it easier for him. Hell, he should’ve know better—thinking about it, he knew Regina well enough to know she wouldn’t accept the way he had dropped off the papers—as well as the actual paperwork—without confronting him. Spencer remembered the scent of roses when she’d been near him. He knew it was from her lotion he’d given to her for her birthday. It was one he’d had specially made just for her each year, along with two others—peach and coconut. It was a tradition, and he’d given her new bottles of each on her last birthday they’d spent together. They hadn’t been speaking much, but he’d still done it. Although he appreciated them all, she knew rose was his favourite, while she loved peaches and they both enjoyed the coconut. When she wore the coconut it was to drive him wild, since it brought up memories of things they had done with it.

“There’s that look again.”

Spencer jumped as Driscoll spoke—he hadn’t heard him return. He glanced at him, blinking.

“Don’t think I don’t know you were trying to distract me from my point.” Driscoll wiggled his fingers, then rubbed them against the front of his shirt. “But I can see that I’ve already made it, so I won’t say anything else. Except for two things. First, don’t think too long, as you tend to like to do.” He ticked his points off on his fingers. “Two, I suggest if you want to do whatever that look”—Driscoll made the expression he had earlier—“is about, you call her ‘Reggie’. She flinches even worse than you when you say Regina.” Driscoll stared at him pointedly. “That is, if you plan on actually going home.”

Spencer didn’t know what he wanted to do. He had been all set for the divorce—in his mind, he knew it was the right thing to do. He rubbed his hand over his heart, which wasn’t fully on board with the idea. He didn’t have a clue what to do now.
If only Regina had signed and not come to see me.

You
just admitted earlier you
knew that wasn’t going to happen.
His inner voice sounded suspiciously like Driscoll.

“Get out of my head,” he told Driscoll.

“What?” His brow furrowed, and he looked confused.

“I’m having a conversation in my head, and one of the voices sounds like you.” Spencer tapped the side of his forehead. “Even in there, you sound like you know it all.”

“Humph. I don’t know it all. I’m just smart enough to sound like it. Act like you know shit or belong somewhere, and people tend to leave you be. Confidence convinces people you know more than they do.” Driscoll grinned. “I use these skills well. So what is your wise inner voice telling you?”

“That I need a session in the gym,” Spencer replied.

He wasn’t about to admit what he was thinking. Not now. He needed to think first then decide what to do.

“Liar.” Driscoll smirked, then put up his fists. “Gloves or bare fists?”

Spencer knew that was his way of asking if they’d be boxing or kick-boxing. “Bare fists.”

Driscoll nodded and turned before heading towards the gym. Spencer followed and studied his loose-limbed, smooth gait. His mind flashed to three years ago when Driscoll had been hurt and had to walk with a cane, and was just newly scarred. Three years ago seemed to be when everything had gone to hell. He’d almost lost his brother in an accident that had claimed almost all his band mates, and had started the loss of the life he’d built with his wife. Driscoll had survived through will, determination and because Spencer as well as Regina had refused to let him die as he’d at first wished to. All their friends—who were like family—had rallied around Driscoll to save him. At the time, he and Regina hadn’t even thought of what they were going through, and that was when the silence had started and grown until it had suffocated them and their marriage. Spencer wondered if they were willing to deal with it now, to face what had driven a wedge between them.

‘You don’t want to fight for us. Is it really so easy to let us go?’

Regina’s last words and the sheen in her eyes as she’d fought her tears replayed in his mind. Her question was a valid one, and one he didn’t have an answer to.

Can you see your life without her in it?

Spencer instinctively clenched his fist, biting his lip to stifle a cry of rage and pain that thought gave him. He stopped as it dawned on him he wasn’t through with their marriage. Now it was a matter of what he was going to do about it.

Chapter Two

Spencer placed his tea on the tray then lifted it, taking it past the registers that had no cashiers—he noticed the hospital cafeteria was almost empty. At this time of day—a little after three a.m.—that was unexpected. By this time, things slowed down on most floors of Singleton Hospital, and hospital personnel would be taking a break or unwinding, waiting for the next wave of emergencies or patients needing something. At night into early morning, the hospital came alive with the staff bustling around working. During the day for visiting hours, it was busy with family, friends and people coming in for outpatient things, but at night, it was the staff members who were bustling around. The cafeteria was closed, but had vending machines for people who didn’t bring in their own meals. That was a risk, since most of the things in the machines weren’t that appetising.

Usually, Spencer brought in his own meals and grabbed a beverage from the machine. He walked towards his usual spot. As he looked at his lunch bag, his thoughts turned to Regina, as they had for days. No matter how busy they were, they used to make lunch for each other. They’d also include a little note that could range from something as simple as ‘have good day’ to a joke, and usually ended with ‘love you’. Spencer found a table in the back away from the entrance of the room and put his tray down. He placed his hand on the bag.

“God, I miss that.”

“Miss what?” a feminine voice sounded behind him.

Spencer jumped, not having heard anyone approaching. He shifted, looking up, then grinned.

“Lila, what brings you to our humble abode?” Spencer studied her rich honey-brown face and the familiar twinkle in her hazel eyes. Her reddish brown hair was back in the usual bun, but a few strands of her kinky curls had escaped and were curling around her face. He gestured to the one of the chairs. “Have seat.”

“Don’t mind if I do.” Lila smiled, putting down her own tray and sitting. “It’s been a rough night.”

“Really?” Spencer sat across from her, observing the lines of strain around her mouth as she grimaced. “I don’t recall there being any fatalities that had the police called in and them needing to call the Medical Examiners’ office. And you’re not the one we usually get when there is a need.”

Lila was the head of the Medical Examiners’ office for the Singleton Police Department and she worked out of the Delko Street precinct. They had become friendly about a year ago when a case had overlapped and Lila had come in since she had been short-staffed. Spencer, as the head of the ER, could relate to being short-staffed, as that was a common thing with them due to budget cuts. As he’d passed on the information he knew of the victim, they had started to talk and before he knew it, they were sharing a cup of coffee in the lounge. That had been the start of an unexpected friendship. Since then, if he was ever near the Delko Street precinct or she at the hospital, they sought each other out to at least say hello.

“True. I’m not. This time, there wasn’t a fatality, and I was a witness.” Lila lowered her head, then shook it. “At least, he wasn’t a fatality when he came in.”

Spencer, hearing the pain in her voice, placed his hand over hers on the table. “What happened?” He tried to remember if he had been briefed on a case where Lila had been involved. Spencer couldn’t remember one. When he’d arrived earlier and had been filled in on what had been going on, no one had mentioned Lila. They knew that they were friends.

“I was on a date—”

“You, on a date?”

“No need to sound shocked. I do, occasionally.” She paused, then spoke again. “Well, I rarely go on them. It’s a shame, the best part of the date was the accident that happened in front of us when the car skidded into a bank then flipped, ejecting the driver.” Lila placed her hand over her eyes. “Oh, God, that sounded so bad. I didn’t mean that the person getting hurt was a good thing. I—”

“I know, Lila. No need to explain. I get it,” Spencer said gently. He rarely saw her frazzled. She was usually so put together and calm. He did understand what she’d said and why. As medical professionals having to deal with all they saw, humour or levity in situations like this might come across as not caring when in reality, that wasn’t the case.

She lowered her hand. “Yeah, you do. Sorry. I don’t know what is wrong with me. I deal with dead bodies all the time.”

“But when they get to your table, they are already dead, not alive when you find them.” Spencer took a guess at what had happened. He remembered now the case he’d been briefed on, but again he recalled there had been no mention of Lila. As far as he knew, the kid had been stabilised. He had been no more than sixteen, had only recently got his licence, and the accident had been a freak one. That he survived to make it to the ER and had been stabilised and moved to ICU had been a miracle in itself.

“I was there and helped to make sure he was brought in alive. He was making it in the ICU. Then he just”—she cleared her throat—“coded. They couldn’t bring him back. I held his mother as they tried to save her son. His father didn’t even make it in time to see him. He was just coming down the hall when they pronounced him dead.” Lila rubbed her hand over her face. “God. It’s so much easier dealing with a dead body on my table. I don’t get to see them alive beforehand. This sucks.”

“It does. It’ll be okay, Lila.” Spencer moved to sit beside her, putting his arm around her shoulder. “You were there for his mom. You were there and helped as much as you could.”

“I know that, Spencer. But he was so young. Life’s not fair.” She shook her head. “I know it isn’t, but at moments like this, it drives it home
how
it isn’t.”

“Yeah.” Spencer held her, silent while she blew out a breath and calmed.

“Thanks. I remember you mentioned that, unless something comes up, you take lunch at this time, so I came here to see you.” Lila patted him on the chest, then said, “Now, enough of that. What is it you miss?”

Spencer released her but stayed by her side. He took her drink off her tray. “I can’t let you eat that crap.” He pushed away her tray and the sandwich she had got from the machine. He reached for his lunch bag and unzipped it, then pulled out the container and opened the lid. He placed the lid before her, then handed her the extra fork he had before sharing his food with her.

“Oh my, that smells delicious.” Lila inhaled deeply, then stared at the food on the lid. “What kind of chicken is this? And is this rice? Why is it reddish?”

“Rosemary-lemon chicken. And the rice is camargue, red rice from southern France.” Spencer thought about what he knew about it. “It’s just that colour and has a really intense taste. It’s good. Try it.”

“Ummm…how do you know about rice from southern France? Are you moonlighting as a chef?” Lila was watching him with an amused look on her face.

“No.” He chuckled, scooping a forkful of rice. “My brother made it. He loves to cook and has been all over the world, so he has eclectic taste in food.” He paused, then added softly, “Like someone else I know. They used to share recipes and exchange ideas. It’s a wonder I don’t get fat.”

“This mysterious brother. You don’t say much about him. I just realised I don’t even know his name.” Lila lifted a forkful of rice before taking a cautious bite.

He didn’t mention Driscoll because it was ingrained in him not to. With Driscoll being as famous as he was, Spencer was cautious on who he mentioned him to—there was no way to know if someone wanted to get near Driscoll the singer, or get to know Driscoll for himself. Driscoll tended to keep to himself around Singleton and only went places when he was slightly disguised, so as not to be as easily recognised. Although he was retired and out of the limelight, people still tended to be in awe when they were near a singer such as Driscoll. Driscoll still wrote songs for others, but didn’t perform anymore. Spencer watched Lila as she ate and waited for the reaction. Her eyes widened as she chewed then she made a humming sound.