Authors: Monica McCabe
“And that’s why she’s our best staff veterinarian at the San Diego Zoo.”
All three of them turned to the new voice by the door.
Miranda’s heart lurched into her stomach, and the hole it left filled with dismay. The last person she expected to see, or wanted to see for that matter, stood in the door grinning with delight at their surprise.
From his crisp, buttoned-down shirt to his tasseled penny loafers, Hank Meadows looked like a picture of the California wine country. Neat, tidy, and everything in a row. She’d never really noticed that about him before.
“Blast it all, Hank.” Jason was the first to recover. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to see if Africa is all they claim it to be.” Hank looked straight at Miranda then. “And to offer Miranda an apology.”
To say she was astounded put it mildly. He couldn’t have traveled halfway around the globe just to apologize. Why did he really come? He stared at her with an inquiring expression that begged an answer. She hardly knew what to say. “We’d be home in less than two weeks, Hank.” She was pretty sure that wasn’t what he wanted to hear. “You didn’t have to travel so far just to say you’re sorry.”
“It couldn’t wait. I needed to say it now.”
“Well, dang, Hank.” Jason stretched his hand out for a shake and diffused the tension. “I hope you brought your running shoes, because if you came to see Africa, you’re going to be busy!”
As Jason kept Hank occupied by shaking hands and introducing Letta, Miranda worked to gather her wits. She was at a complete loss on how to react to Hank’s gesture. She could scarce believe he left behind his comfortable and orderly life to fly all the way here.
The introductions done, Hank turned back toward her and opened his arms to invite a hug. Not knowing what else to do, she gave him what he asked for.
“It is good of you to come, Hank.” That much was true, though in reality, she wished he hadn’t. Seeing him now only confirmed what she’d realized a lifetime ago in San Diego. Hank was a good friend, but that was all there was between them. What was she to tell him now?
“I’ve already checked in at Zimbali Lodge.” Hank kept hold of her hand. “I want you to show me this place, show me why you love this work so much.”
Miranda gave him brownie points for trying. His grand gesture certainly was romantic, and a few weeks ago she might have been moved by it. But that was before Matt, before his shaggy hair and tawny-eyed gaze had captured her heart.
She was destined for heartbreak and knew it, but suddenly she didn’t care. She wanted to take what little time remained for her and Matt. Starting the minute he got back tomorrow.
Only first she had to give Hank a tour of Katanga.
Roz had other ideas. The chimp ambled up and stood with an unblinking stare at Hank.
“Who’s this?” Hank asked.
“Meet Roz, self-appointed mascot of the center,” Miranda replied.
“Why is she staring at me?”
Roz answered the question by reaching up to their clasped hands and pounding on them until Hank released Miranda. The monkey chattered loudly, rubbed a hand down her face, then shook her head.
Hank started laughing and reached down to pet Roz. She backed out of his reach with an indignant screech.
“What’s wrong with her?” Hank asked.
Perplexed, Miranda looked to Letta for an answer, but she merely shrugged and looked just as surprised. Miranda dropped to one knee and did a quick visual check, but Roz seemed fine. The chimp made a fist with her thumb up and brought the digit up to flick against her chin.
Sign language for “not.” Had Roz taken an instant dislike of Hank? That was totally crazy, but what else could it be?
“It’s all right, girl.” She patted Roz affectionately and stood. “She seems fine. Probably just wants something to eat.”
Hank eyed the monkey with a small frown, but then shrugged. “Can’t say I blame her. I haven’t eaten much today either.”
“Well then, how about we start the tour with lunch?” Miranda asked.
“Sounds wonderful.” Hank grabbed Miranda’s arm to loop through his, but Roz began screeching again, drawing the attention of the others in the clinic.
“Maybe we should just head out?” Miranda disengaged from Hank. “Jason, Letta, ready for lunch?”
“I…uh… There’s still much to do.” Letta’s eyes moved between her and Hank.
“Nonsense,” Miranda argued. “You have to eat. Whatever it is will keep for an hour.”
Letta glanced at Jason as if for guidance, and Miranda mouthed the word “please” at him. Alone time with Hank was not what she wanted right now.
Jason shrugged and yanked off his lab coat. “Lunch sounds good to me,” he said. “Just give me a second, and I’ll sign us out.”
* * * *
The sun had begun sinking into the late afternoon sky when Matt pulled into Katanga’s parking lot. Technically, he wasn’t due back in his janitor uniform until tomorrow morning, but he was anxious to check on Miranda.
He’d spent all morning with Nik at IDS headquarters filing status reports, then most of the afternoon briefing the security detail for Diamond Council on the black market weapons deal brewing at Glory Hill. Now, he wanted to see if Miranda had come up with that list of Panjami destinations so he could get someone working it.
But if he was truthful, he just wanted to see her. She managed to get under his skin every single time, but he’d never enjoyed being so aggravated in all his life.
He began to whistle as he made his way through the hallways toward the clinic. She’d be there now, helping the afternoon shift with four-legged patients and curving those lips of hers in that fresh, earthy way she had. She’d hooked him with that smile the very day he met her.
With a crazy grin of anticipation and friendly nod at the girl working the reception counter, Matt pushed his way through the double doors.
His smile melted instantly.
Miranda and a stranger stood shoulder to shoulder, and she held a lion cub in her arms. The man hesitantly reached out to pet it. That didn’t bother Matt as much as the man’s easy laugh and the way he dropped a neatly tailored arm onto her shoulders. Matt’s eyes narrowed as he took in the guy’s attire. Not one wrinkle marred his neatly pressed and tucked shirt, nor was there any hint of dust on his shiny leather shoes. Worse yet, he was way too familiar with Miranda.
She suddenly looked up and spotted him standing by the doors. Her eyes lit up, and he gave her a little half smile. Hah.
Take that Mr. GQ
.
She waved Matt over and set the lion cub back in the holding cage.
Jason crossed the clinic and veered Matt’s way, knocking knuckles with him in greeting. “You gotta do something, man,” Jason whispered vehemently. “Don’t let Hank win her back.”
No sir, that didn’t sound good at all.
With a sharp nod, he kept moving their direction and took a quick study of Mr. Perfectly Pressed. So this was the almost fiancé? He looked nothing like her type. Then again, what was her type? Surely, not the Mr. Clean variety, all stuffy and proper and…and… The guy didn’t even have a hangnail. Probably a luke-warm kisser and never got naked in broad daylight.
Miranda reached out and grabbed Matt’s hand, pulling him the final few steps her way. “Meet Hank Meadows, staff director at the San Diego Zoo in California. Hank, meet Matthew Bennett.”
The two men sized each other up. Hank seemed wary, a feeling Matt shared. Regardless of his instant dislike, Matt held out a work-callused hand and gave the guy a half-hearted shake. “What brings you all the way to Katanga? Checking up on the doc?”
“No need for that.” Hank smiled a little too warmly at Miranda. “She has our total trust.”
“So why are you here?” Matt persisted.
“Because Miranda and I have a little unfinished business, and I didn’t want to wait until she returned home. Plus, it seemed a good time to play tourist.” Hank stepped closer to Miranda and brushed her braid off her shoulder. An intentional intimate gesture, and Matt got the message.
Miranda frowned at Hank and stepped over to the counter where Letta handed her a chart to sign. “Hank wants to see some of Africa,” Miranda said as she scribbled her name. “I thought you could help by suggesting a reputable safari company.”
“Maybe,” he said. He knew one that could send Hank into the middle of the Kalahari, and if Matt were lucky, the guy would get himself lost. “I could probably get him in with a group, day after tomorrow.”
“Actually, that’s not what I had in mind,” Hank said and turned to Miranda. “I thought we could rent a Jeep and take a scenic drive around Gaborone. Maybe take in an adjoining town or two.”
Matt ground his teeth. Jason rolled his eyes. Letta just stood quietly by the counter, watching the play.
“Perhaps next week after my time is up at Katanga,” Miranda replied. “Since they paid for my services, it wouldn’t be right to request time off.”
The small frown marring Hank’s forehead concerned Matt. Competition for Miranda’s time didn’t fit into his plans. Why did everything have to be so bloody complicated?
“On that note,” Jason interrupted, “duty calls. Doc and I need to get out to the Oasis Pool. How about I get Kampo to drive Hank to the lodge, and we’ll meet him there in time for supper?”
Hank glanced at his expensive-looking wristwatch. “Dinner at seven?”
“We’ll be there,” Jason replied, and Hank shot him a sour look.
Matt had better ideas, but he let it go for now.
Jason sat back from the table with a heartfelt sigh and a gleam of mischief. “So what do you think, Hank? Isn’t Tavi’s cooking the best you ever tasted?”
Miranda smiled at her assistant. He showed rare form tonight. Meddling, intrusive, and intentionally obtuse to every hint Hank made for him to leave. And she’d never appreciated him more.
“Dinner was superb,” Hank replied. “So tell me, Jason, how have you and Miranda spent your evenings these past weeks?”
“Working late most days. But we’ve managed to do a little sightseeing, taste some local brew. Miranda managed to take in an African tribal wedding.”
Hank’s eyes widened and his head swiveled her way, so she refrained from kicking Jason’s shin under the table.
“How’d you manage that?” he asked.
“Matt took her.”
She did kick Jason then.
“Matt? Do you mean the janitor I met earlier today?”
“He’s a very interesting man,” Miranda said. “American, but raised in these parts. Friends of his were getting married.”
“And he needed a date.” Jason, it seemed, was doing his level best to keep Hank from reentering her affections. He really needn’t worry.
She thought she’d made that clear late this afternoon when he and Letta had grilled her over the reappearance of her almost fiancé. Jason had been downright indignant after Hank showed up. “I can’t believe this!” Jason had said. “Just when I start to breathe a sigh of relief, he shows up to throw a wrench in the works.”
“This Hank,” Letta had said as she tapped a long finger against her chin, “I do not see you two together. There’s no spark.”
“There was a point when I thought spark was overrated.”
Letta had shaken her head. “My grandmother always said when two people are destined for each other, there are connecting lines of natural energy. They attract and spark internal fire. Like what happens when you and Matt are together.”
Miranda hardly knew what to think. Attraction she definitely had. Internal fire? That was entirely beside the point. She’d had one or two past boyfriends who had sparked fire. Nice for a time, but not enough for a solid relationship. There had to be more.
She glanced at Hank now with that conversation in mind. He sipped his after-dinner coffee and appeared relaxed. Men like Hank made excellent husband material. Dependable, solid, geared toward domestic life. He was the embodiment of a well-landscaped house in the suburbs, three kids, and a minivan.
So why was Matt the one she wanted? And why was Jason so determined to point out that fact?
“Jason was invited to the wedding, too, but he declined,” Miranda defended. “It’s his own fault he missed the event of the trip.”
Jason shrugged and lifted his bottled water for a quick sip. “Ask her about the colossal hangover she had the next morning.”
Hank’s eyes grew wider.
The glare she leveled at Jason clearly told him to knock it off. “Don’t listen to him, Hank. He’s just jealous because he missed out on tribal hooch, a feast fit for a king, and dancing to the rhythm of native drums.”
“Now I know why you like taking these trips so much.”
“When in Rome…” Jason sighed theatrically.
“Honestly,” Miranda said in denial, “that kind of thing isn’t the norm. This was special.”
“How special?” Hank looked at her with a clear question in his eyes.
This was not a conversation she wanted to have. Not right after dinner. Not with Jason sitting there wearing a sly smile. Not when she wished Matt sat here instead.
“Can we change the subject?” Miranda pushed away from the table. “How about we go sit in the lobby by the stone fireplace and enjoy a glass of wine?”
The three of them spent the next hour catching up on San Diego happenings. They shared a couple glasses of a South African chenin blanc and regaled Hank on their exploits with Estelle, the albino hippo.
Topics gradually changed, and when Jason and Hank began seriously discussing the different aspects of antique muscle cars, Miranda made her excuses and said goodnight. They waved her on absently, hardly breaking their conversation.
With a sigh of relief, she headed down the lodge hallway to the back door. She had to remember to thank Jason later. His supreme meddling had never been so timely. Stepping out into the gardens, she breathed deep the tangy aroma of night-blooming flowers and freshly worked soil. The cooler evening air wafted around her, and she relished the slow walk to her cabin.
Insects chirped and wind rustled the tree tops, soothing her jangled nerves. She stopped at a garden bench near her cabin just to prolong the peace.
“About time you finished entertaining.” Matt settled onto the bench beside her. “Been waiting out here forever.”