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Dr. Brandt: Chapter 9

Jessa

Searching for Cameron, I rushed out of the airport, probably looking like I was fleeing the Feds.

“Where the hell is he?” I asked, staring at what seemed like hundreds of cars flooding into the loading zone at the airport.

“Hopefully, you got the good doctor’s number, so you can just call him,” Jackson said with a sympathetic grin. “Mom,” his stark blue eyes leveled me, “take a breath and relax. I’m here, and you’re here; that’s all that matters.”

I briskly ran my hand over his arm and exhaled. “Got it, Champ,” I said. “Me and you.”

He nodded assuredly, making me focus on the simplest of all solutions to my predicament: using my phone to call Cameron instead of looking around like a frantic idiot.

“Yes, darling,” Cam teased.

“We’re out front. Where are you?” I was too frazzled to bring myself to fully appreciate his light-heartedness.

“Parking garage,” Cameron answered. “On my way to the terminal now.”

“Okay. We’re right where I got out,” I answered.

“Be there in a sec,” he answered.

“Shit, Cam!”

“Right here.”

“I have Jackson with me, and you don’t have enough room in your car,” I informed him.

“No worries. I called an Uber, and they’ll be here in twenty minutes. That gives Jackson and me enough time to meet so he can make sure he’ll want me to be his doctor.”

“Oh, my God. Thank you,” I said in disbelief, looking around for the man who always seemed to be a step ahead.

“Well, if it isn’t Jackson,” I heard Cameron say over the sounds of car engines and squeaky luggage wheels rattling all around us.

“And if it isn’t the doctor my mom hijacked to come and save my ass,” Jackson answered while shaking Cam’s extended hand.

“Jacks!” I said with irritation. “Language, please.”

Cameron’s grin lit his eyes. “Yes, easy on the language. We don’t want to offend Captain America over here,” he winked at Jackson as he cocked his thumb to point in my direction.

Why do I even bother? I thought, watching my boys as they laughed. Oh, shit. My boys? Maybe I should’ve boarded that flight with my fiancé after all.

“Can we?” I said, interrupting my thoughts.

“We can,” Cameron said. “All right, kid. Give me the rundown. You into sports?”

“I’m an all-star player and MVP for my football team,” Jackson said with his usual confident grin.

“That’s what I’m talking about,” Cameron folded his arms and gave Jackson his undivided attention. “Any other sports?”

“Basketball, also MVP,” Jackson proudly proclaimed.

As I watched Jackson give Cameron the details of the life these seizures were stealing from him, my heart started to sink, a brutal reminder needed in this precarious situation.

“Nice,” Cameron’s eyes shifted to mine, then to Jackson. “Anything else?”

“Baseball,” Jackson said as if he were now challenging Cam.

“Position?” Cam asked.

“Shortstop. Sometimes, pitcher,” Jackson answered.

“MVP?” Cameron leaned in and playfully asked.

“Yes,” Jackson chuckled sheepishly. “I sound like a complete ass.”

“It’s not bragging if it’s true. And, if you give me the honor of becoming your doctor, I’d gladly work my ass off to get you back into all those games.” He looked at me, “Sorry about that language, Cap.”

“Fix this boy,” I playfully elbowed Jackson, “and you can curse all you want.”

“Hell yeah,” Jackson said, and then I was in a big bear hug with my six-foot-tall son. “Let’s see if we can crack the code on this shit.”

I rolled my eyes at Jackson and Cameron, laughing at my expense. “How about we get you both checked into a hotel? Let’s also try to refrain from cursing before your mom kicks both of our asses.”

“I’ll call the hotel we were in before Warren checked us out without giving Dr. Brandt a chance. Maybe they can extend the room there,” I said, pulling out my phone.

Part of me expected to see a text from Warren—because that’s what a decent person would do in this situation, assuming a decent person would be in this situation at all—but no. So, what the hell ever, and too bad for his ass because I knew I did the right thing for Jackson, and I felt that now, more than ever, this kid would be just fine. My relationship, however, not so much.

“Oh, hell no. My patients aren’t staying in that shithole,” Cameron said after Jackson told him which hotel I was attempting to rebook.

“It might not be the Ritz, but it’s not a shithole,” I answered.

“Fair enough. But I’d like you closer to the hospital,” Cameron said, pulling his phone to his ear.

I stood there stunned when Cameron said the hotel’s name to the person he was talking to on the other end of the line. The hotel was known for putting up Hollywood stars for award shows and things whenever they were in town.

“Cam,” I said, shaking my head.

“One sec,” he said to the person on the phone, “Yeah?” He looked at me as if I were going to put in a special request for some extra pillows.

“We’re not staying there, and no, you’re not paying for it either.”

“Oh, I’m not paying for it.” He raised his eyebrows in the daring, playful look I adored, a fact which he seemed to have remembered since he was using it as a weapon against me. “Yeah, for a week to start. Right. Okay, sounds great. Have the hotel send me the confirmation, and I’ll forward that to my patient. Thanks.”

I stood there with my arms folded as I watched Cameron study his phone and handle whatever business was on the screen he was fixated on.

“Well,” I said, prompting Cameron’s head to snap up, his humored eyes meeting my stern ones. “I know I am not paying for that, and my insurance company is certainly not going to approve of it. So, if you’re not paying for the penthouse that you just booked for a week, who is?”

“Easy. Warren.” Cameron chuckled with his new fan, Jackson, laughing right along with him. “Done and done.”

“Seriously. Who is paying for that room?” I insisted.

“I think it’s fair that Warren does since I’m sure the hotel he had you staying in wasn’t delightful enough for the MVP to—”

“Cameron,” I interrupted the man who still had the playful personality I’d always loved. “Who is paying for the room?”

I tried not to smile, but I couldn’t resist it. Damn, I missed this guy. Always spirited and fun but serious when you needed him to be. He had a temper, to be sure, but something significant had to happen for that to show its face.

Warren was nothing like this man. Warren was serious, reserved, and, as of today, on my last nerve. I don’t know why he’d been behaving this way recently, and I didn’t know what to do about it because he was usually steady and typically supportive. What I did know was that this stunt he’d pulled—willingly boarding a plane without us—was going to be a big problem moving forward.

Before I could stop myself, a wave of emotion flooded me, and the sting of tears bit my eyes.

“Hey, now, Jessa. I’m only teasing.” Cameron stared at me with shock. “The hospital pays for the stay if we call them and request the room for certain patients.”

“It’s fine.” I sniffed, trying to shove away these unexpected feelings.

“Mom,” Jackson said in a voice of concern, “are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I’m sorry, both of you,” I recovered a fake smile. “It’s just been a long few days, and I think I’m more relieved than anything.”

“Awesome,” was all Cameron said, and the awkwardness was over just like that.

After we were checked into the lavish room, which was as luxurious as the places we went for Warren’s work galas, I glanced around and then started laughing.

“Maybe the tears come first, then the laughing before she knees you in the balls for all this?” Jackson said to Cameron.

“Already a step ahead of you on that assumption, kid,” Cameron cracked with a nervous laugh of his own. “Jessa?”

“Jessa?” Jackson chuckled. “I’ve never heard anyone call her that one before.”

Cameron laughed, and then his eyes met mine. We both knew why he called me Jessa—his Jessa.

“Not a word,” I said as if he’d tell Jackson how he came up with that name for me.

He looked at Jackson. “If you want the story behind that name,” he craned his head back to me, “you’re gonna have to get your mom to cough it up.”

“Ah, ha,” Jackson teased me. “Another time?”

“Another time,” I said with a smile. “But as for now, we’re pretty screwed.”

“How so?” Jackson questioned.

“Our clothes are on their way back to New York with Warren’s shitty mood,” I answered, unable to resist rolling my eyes.

“Damn,” Cameron answered with the same shock any person would in this situation. “Well, it’s a good thing I’ve got an extra bag of clean sweats and stuff in my car. Sometimes I’m on call for seventy-two hours or a week, so it’s necessary. You both can fight over who wears my underwear after I leave.”

“Very funny,” I said. “I saw a store in the lobby. Maybe I’ll check that out.”

“Good idea, and while I’m on my way out, I’ll walk you down,” Cameron offered.

“Thank you.” I smiled at him, my gratitude for Cameron growing by the second.

“I can run down and grab the extra clothes,” Jackson said, his smile and generous personality matching his father’s.

“Why don’t I go get that so I can see what we can borrow of Cameron’s?” I said to Jackson. “I’m also going to check out that clothing shop in the lobby and pray they have underwear, or you and I will be fighting over Cameron’s.” I wanted a moment alone with Cam to tell him how much I appreciated everything he had done since he took my call.

“Okay. I’m going to check out my bedroom while you’re gone. You can have the room closest to the kitchen in this pimp pad. It’s a pleasure to know you, Dr. Brandt,” he said, extending his hand to shake Cam’s.

“The pleasure is mine, Jackson. And call me Cam. Now, enjoy the pimp pad,” he chuckled with a wink.

I’d forgotten how amazing Cam was with kids. He could get on their level and relate to them. Cameron had never behaved like the billionaire’s son he was. That wasn’t the kind of man he was, and I could easily sense that he hadn’t changed. Cam was fun, charming, and genuine, and he had a dynamic personality that made women do anything to get his attention.

Okay, enough of that. All of this is a good reminder of the player who broke up with you, I reminded myself as Cameron and Jackson ended their conversation, and Jackson walked down the hallway to the room he’d chosen.

“So,” Cameron said with a curious expression, his eyes now a deep shade of blue.

“So,” I hung onto the word, unable to resist a bashful smile in response to his look that held me hostage.

“When were you planning on telling me I was a father?”


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