Page 27 of One Last Shot

And then there was the money?—

His phone, picked up from his gear at the hotel, vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out.Goldie.Probably to talk terms and give him all the reasonsto say yes.

He didn’t need the reminder, thanks. Maggie and her organization sat front and center in his brain most of the time. Thumbing away the call, he heard footsteps behind him.

Turned.

They’d never met, but he recognized Seraphina Grizz right away. A former model, of course, she wore no makeup and appeared tired, her blonde hair mussed. She was trolleying a carry-on, wore an oversized leather-and-sheepskin jacket open, a pink velour workout suit underneath.

Beside her walked their kids—a daughter and son—both carrying backpacks. He put the boy at about sixteen. The girl younger, maybe eight. They looked as tired at their mother.

He walked down the hall to them. “Oaken Fox.”

“I know who you are, Oaken,” said Seraphina and simply pulled him into a hug, her arms around his neck.

Then she started to cry.

Oh. Um.

He hadn’t put down his coffee and now just wrapped the other arm around her as she sobbed.

The boy looked away, lean and bearing the handsome, chiseled features of his father.

The girl was her mother’s spitting image.

A beautiful family.

“I’m sorry. I’m... just tired.” Seraphine stepped back, wiping her eyes. “Is he awake?”

“No.” Oaken walked over to a nearby garbage bin and tossed his cup in, coffee and all. Came back to the trio. “But they won’t give me much information—I’m not family.”

Seraphina nodded, then looked past him toward the ICU. “He’s in there?”

“Yes. They’ll let you visit for fifteen minutes every hour.”

She nodded. “Oh, this is my son, Liam, and mydaughter, Jasmine.”

Liam turned away. Jasmine gave him a wan smile.

“Listen, I know my way to the cafeteria. How about I get you some coffee? And... donuts?”

Jasmine looked over at him, nodded. She also wore her mother’s sorrow.

“Skinny vanilla latte,” Seraphina said. “Thanks, Oaken.”

“Right. I’ll be back.”

He was climbing into the elevator when he spotted Seraphina talking to the ICU nurse.

Good. Maybe now he could go home.

Except even as the doors opened, he heard Huxley.“You stick around Alaska for three weeks, maybe a month. You write some music, train with the Air One team, go out on a few calls, and let us inside the life of a training rescue tech....”

He walked toward the coffee shop, the smell reeling him in.

“Reynolds will get your money.”

He ordered Seraphina’s latte, a macchiato for himself, and four freshly glazed donuts.