Hot Number (Hot Zone 2)

He waited for her voice to turn from matter-of-fact to bitingly sarcastic but it didn't happen. Instead she laid out the facts and started to laugh.

"Just what's so funny?" he asked

"My soap opera of a life."

"I'm sorry for adding to the list."

Micki shook her head, an unbelievable smile on her tips. "Don't be. If you hadn't come around, I might be bored."

The sound of raised voices traveled from the room next door. "Something tells me being bored wouldn't be a remote possibility. Let's see what's going on"

Micki shot around him and he followed her into the room. Her uncle stood on a chair surrounded by decorations the family had strung around the room. Paper streamers were taped onto the ceiling, green and white helium balloons floated at will, and a store-bought Happy Birthday sign dangled precariously from the wall.

Damian wanted to ask Micki about the significance of such obviously childlike party symbols, but Yank was pontificating from on high. Loudly.

"…And since it's my birthday-and I thank you all very much for coming-I thought I got to decide who I wanted here. And I can tell you right now, I don't want to party with the lovebirds." Yank pointed first to Lola, then to Spencer Atkins, who were on separate sides of the room, whether out of deference to Yank's feelings or pure irony.

Yank's always wiry hair stood on end and his face flushed red with pure jealousy. Damian leveled a sidelong glance at Micki. He couldn't be responsible for his actions either if she walked into a party with another man-a notion that rattled the hell out of him.

Suddenly Yank, who was still ranting from his perch in the center of the room, lost his balance. Without warning, he wobbled, pitched to one side and fell before anyone could help him.

"Uncle Yank.'" All three of his nieces ran to the older man's side, but Lola got there first "You frustrating, crotchety, old coot!" she yelled, bending down at his side. "Where does it hurt?" She spread her hands all over him, her concern and love so real eve

n Damian could feel it.

"My leg," he muttered and rubbed a place high on his hip.

Damian winced. "Somebody call for an ambulance," he yelled to the waiters nearby.

Yank was still yelling at Lola to get the hell away and let him be humiliated in peace.

Uncomfortable making them a spectacle, Damian stepped back.

Micki slipped her hand into his. "There's not much we can do. The hostess already called 911," she said.

"I ain't going in an ambulance," Yank blustered.

Noodle woofed in agreement and licked Yank's face, the dog's concern obvious.

Spencer Atkins stormed over to his best friend. The two men couldn't be more different in looks, Yank in his button-down Hawaiian shirt and Atkins in his double-breasted suit. "Shut the hell up, will you? Your mouth is what got you into trouble in the first place."

Yank scowled at his friend. "You stole my woman-"

“I was never yours to begin with. You didn't want me," Lola said, tears streaming down her cheeks and causing her makeup to run.

If she cared about that or her hair, which had fallen from its bun, or the fact that her blouse had pulled loose from the back of her skirt, she didn't show it. All her concern was lavished on the man lying on the floor.

"I wonder if he'll come around now," Micki whispered. "I mean it feels like his last chance. If he pushes Lola away this time, it's probably for good."

The overwhelming emotion of her family situation struck Damian hard. "Hopefully this'll smarten him up. It can happen to even the dumbest jock," he said, hoping to lighten the mood.

She laughed and hiccupped at the same time.

"Coming through." The paramedics came in and the next few minutes passed in a blur as they carefully loaded the older man onto the stretcher.

"Come on. I'll drive you and Sophie to the hospital." Damian tugged on her hand.

Annabelle and Vaughn were already halfway out the door. Micki relayed the offer to Sophie, who held a squirming Noodle in her arms, and they all headed for the exit.