Healing Hearts. Syndi Powell

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Healing Hearts - Syndi Powell Hope Center Stories

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turned his attention back to Ramos. The last thing he needed was to lose a client because his focus was elsewhere. “My life doesn’t have much room for making new friends right now. I’m dedicated to my clients and their needs. I work tirelessly to get the best contracts and to make sure their lives are exactly what they want.”

      Ramos nudged him. “I get it. You’d work just as hard for me if I sign with you.”

      “So what is it that’s keeping you from doing that?” Zach asked. He’d been wining and dining this guy for three months without a commitment. “What is it that you need? Tell me and I’ll make it happen to get you on my roster.”

      Ramos and his girlfriend exchanged glances. He leaned in close to Zach. “We need to get married. And quick. You make that happen, and I’ll be happy to join you.”

      Zach wanted to groan. Couldn’t he have asked for something easy like playing for the number one team in the league at a cool six million a season? But he smiled and nodded. “Then you’d better be ready to walk down that aisle.”

      * * *

      MATEO PARKED HIS car in front of her house and cut the engine. She peered through the window to concentrate on the porch light. Was Mateo expecting to come in? Would he kiss her or push for more? And did she want him to?

      She licked her lips and shifted to face him. He kept his gaze straight ahead, focused on something in the dark. “Thanks for a fun evening, Mateo. I really enjoyed it.”

      He turned and smiled at her. “I did, too. More than I expected to.” He winced. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. You’re nice, I mean, and very attractive. But...”

      “But.” She returned his smile. “It’s okay. I liked our time together, but I don’t feel that spark for you either. We’d be better off as friends.”

      “Right. Friends.” Mateo let out a sigh. “I did notice some sparks between you and that guy who stopped at our table.”

      “Mr. Harrison? No, you’re wrong. I’ve only seen him twice, and there’s nothing there. Nothing. Not a thought or idea. Not a thing.”

      He stared at her with a faint smile on his face. “Are you sure about that? You seem a little too adamant.”

      “I protest too much, in other words?” She gave a shrug. “There’s something about him that really bugs me. I can’t describe it.”

      She could tell Mateo wasn’t convinced. Not that it should matter if he was. Mr. Harrison wasn’t her type. She didn’t want to get involved with a workaholic who spent his life on his cell phone, rather than paying attention to the world around him. She knew too well what that was like. And she didn’t intend to go down that path again.

      She gripped the door handle. “Thank you again for a lovely evening.”

      “My pleasure.”

      He started to open his door, but she put out a hand to stop him. “You don’t need to walk me to the door. I’ll be fine.”

      “I may not be interested in you romantically, but I haven’t forgotten my manners.”

      She got out of the car and waited for him to join her on the sidewalk. At the house, Mateo stood on the bottom step as she unlocked the front door. When it opened, she turned and looked down at him. “Maybe I’ll see you around.”

      “Good luck on your second-chance list.”

      “Sherri told you?”

      He nodded. “I think it’s great that you’re trying to get back into life after your brush with cancer.”

      “It was more than a brush.”

      He frowned. “You know my mother died from breast cancer? It was horrible to watch the life drain away from her daily.” His expression softened. “So the fact that you’re grabbing life with both hands is something to be proud of. Best of luck with the rest of your list.”

      She stepped inside her house and watched him as he turned on his heel, got back into his car and left. She shut the door and locked it before placing her clutch on the table along with her keys. Leaning on the door for a moment, she retrieved her cell phone from the purse and texted Page. Salsa dancing fun. No sparks with Mateo.

      A few seconds later, her cell phone rang. “What do you mean there were no sparks? The man is soooo hot, so smart—”

      “We had a good time, but there was no chemistry between us.” April plopped onto the sofa and kept the phone wedged between her ear and shoulder as she took off one shoe, then the other. “Besides, the cancer thing puts him off a little.”

      Silence on the other end. Then Page cleared her throat. “Did he actually say that?”

      “No, he mentioned his mom died from it and how hard that was to watch.” She massaged one foot and eased into the sofa. “It’s fine. We’ll just be friends. No big deal.”

      “So what’s next on your list?”

      She plucked her journal from the coffee table and opened it. “I saw an ad in the staff lounge about Italian cooking classes being offered nearby. You know I’ve always wanted to learn to cook, so why not pasta?”

      “I don’t think even you could burn water.”

      “Want to take the class with me?”

      More silence, then a huff of resignation. “Fine. Let me know when and where.”

      * * *

      ZACH BAGGED MRS. ZERELLI’S groceries as his grandmother rang up the purchases. “You’ve grown into a fine young man, Zachary.”

      “Thank you, Mrs. Zerelli.” He tucked one paper bag under his arm and hoisted the second. “Why don’t I walk these out to the car for you?”

      She patted his cheeks as his grandmother beamed at him. “Such a good boy.”

      He escorted Mrs. Zerelli to her car and waited for her to unlock the trunk before placing her bags of groceries inside and slamming it shut. He waved away the dollar she tried to press into his hand. “It’s all part of the Rossi service, Mrs. Zerelli.”

      Again, the woman patted his cheeks. “Francisco and Angelina are lucky to have you.”

      He swallowed the guilt that gnawed at him since he hadn’t been with his grandparents much the last few weeks. But he smiled and opened the car door for Mrs. Zerelli, then closed it once she was inside. He waved as she backed out of the parking spot and left the lot.

      Behind the register, Nonna was ringing the next customer’s purchases. For a snowy Saturday in late February, his grandparents’ market seemed to be bustling with business. Zach had planned on stopping in to get a recommendation for a caterer for the Ramos wedding, but seeing the lines and Nonna’s stooped figure behind the register changed it. When he’d been a kid, he’d helped out plenty of afternoons and weekends.

      He returned to Nonna’s side and started to bag the groceries. She turned to him. “I’m surprised

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