The Kiss Quotient (The Kiss Quotient 1)

“I can’t stay at home anymore. I know I’m not as fast as I was, but I do a good job. I’m feeling better. The drugs are working. You kids have to stop trapping me in the house, and you, Michael, you have to stop coming to the shop. I don’t want you there anymore, especially in this black mood. You’re bad for business.”

“M?, I can’t leave you alone, and you won’t let anyone who’s not family work with you.” It was an inescapable truth he’d had to come to grips with, one bar of the cage he voluntarily lived inside. Because he loved her.

“You think you’re the only one in the family who knows how to sew? How many cousins do you have? What about Quan? He came to the shop on Saturday to use the machine to fix his jacket zipper. He knew what he was doing, and he doesn’t like working for his mom. She yells too much.”

Michael flinched back in his seat as his brain scrambled to understand what she’d said. “You’d let him work in front? With all those tattoos?”

She pointed at Michael’s arm where black ink peeked out from underneath the sleeve of his T-shirt. “You have it, too. Don’t think I didn’t notice. I have no idea why you young people do that to yourselves.”

He dropped his left hand away from the steering wheel so his arm lowered out of view. “Girls like it.”

“My Stella likes that?”

“Well, yeah.” She’d kissed the dragon so many times it probably missed her as much as he did by now. It occurred to him Philip James was probably bare as a baby under his clothes. A satisfied smile spread over his lips.

And since when had his mom started calling Stella hers?

“She’s not as innocent as you think,” he added, trying to mitigate his mom’s eventual disappointment.

She slanted him an are you kidding me? look before focusing on the buildings passing by. “Like a girl would stay innocent long with my son. Besides, every mother wants a daughter-in-law who can get down to business. I want to hold babies again.”

Michael choked and coughed.

“Don’t miss the turn.” She pointed to the front drive of the Palo Alto Medical Foundation.

He dropped her off at the door and went to park in the underground parking structure. His mind was a mess of loud thoughts as he left the elevator and went to look for her in the waiting area outside the oncology suite.

His mom said his heart steered him in the right direction, and she didn’t think he’d ever do what his dad had. She wanted him to fight for Stella. She thought love was enough.

But love wasn’t enough if it was only one-sided.

His favorite receptionist, Janelle, flagged him down. “She already went in. Before you go looking for her, I need your signature on some paperwork over here.”

He strode up to the reception desk with a feeling of dread. In his experience, paperwork was not a good thing. Bills were paper.

“Since you have power of attorney, you sign here and here,” Janelle said.

He frowned down at the papers. They didn’t look like regular medical paperwork at all. “What are these for?”

“The foundation has recently started a new program that provides assistance for households with insufficient insurance coverage who haven’t been approved for federal or state assistance for various reasons. Your mom was one of the lucky few who were approved for full aid from here on out. That’s got to be a relief, huh?”

Michael snatched up the papers and started reading the fine print as fast as he could. The more he read, the more stunned he became. His skin tingled with disbelief. “Is this

really real? It’s all covered?”

“This is the real deal. Just sign the papers, Michael honey.” Janelle’s eyes were warm and understanding, and Michael didn’t know how to react. This was too good to be true.

No more medical bills. No more bills. No bills. Was that possible? Michael didn’t have this kind of luck. Bad things happened to him. Life for him was seeing how he could handle the punches and keep going. This had to be a scam.

“How were we selected?” He almost couldn’t hear himself speak through the desperate cacophony of his heart.

Janelle shook her head with a smile. “I’m not familiar with the selection process, but the program has made several families really happy today. Believe it, honey. It’s all official, and it’s happening.” She squeezed his hand before handing him a pen with a plastic daisy taped to the end.

He read over the print one more time, picking up phrases like recognition of financial hardship and full medical coverage. There were no red flags, no requests for payment, no contingencies, no confusing clauses. This was legit. His gut told him it was legit. The tip of the pen rested inside a yellow highlighted area in the document.

“How is this program funded?” he asked.

“Private funding. You know this area and all the large philanthropic organizations. Go on and sign it already. You’re making me nervous.”