I stare at it. I haven't spoken to Jax since the Gala. I let it go to voicemail.
It buzzes again.
Incoming Call: Jax O’Connell
And again.
I sigh. I pick it up.
“I’m not coming back to the program, Jax,” I say, answering. “Save the speech. I’m putting on my suit right now. I have a Board meeting in an hour.”
“Open the door, Preston,” Jax says.
“What?”
“I’m outside. Open the damn door before I pick the lock. You know I can do it.”
I hang up. I walk to the front door of the Penthouse. I open it.
Jax is standing there. He isn't wearing scrubs. He’s wearing his leather jacket and jeans. He looks furious.
He pushes past me into the foyer.
“Nice place,” he says, looking around at the marble and the art. “Very mausoleum-chic. Fits the mood.”
“What do you want, Jax?”
Jax turns on me. “I want to know why St. Jude's Medical Centre's most promising intern is currently playing dress-up instead of prepping for rounds.”
“I’m not your intern,” I say coldly. “I resigned. Max accepted it.”
“Max accepted it because he thinks you’re doing it for him,” Jax snaps. “Max thinks you’re taking the seat to save the family name. But you and I know the truth.”
He steps closer.
“I heard what happened in the hallway. Luke told me.”
“Luke called me a tourist,” I say, the bitterness rising in my throat. “He said I was just slumming it. So I decided to stop slumming.”
“Luke is scared,” Jax says. “He’s scared because for the first time in his life, he found someone who didn't need him for survival,but justwantedhim. And that terrified him. So he pushed you away.”
Jax pokes me in the chest. Hard.
“But you let him. That’s the part that pisses me off, York. You let him push you. You took the first exit ramp because it was easier than fighting for your spot.”
“I am good at this!” I yell, gesturing at the suit. “I am good at the Board! I destroyed Vane! I can help the hospital from up there!”
“Sure,” Jax says. “You can write cheques. You can sign papers. You can be Alistair 2.0.”
He pauses. He looks at me with that terrifying, X-ray vision he uses on trauma patients.
“But tell me, Preston. When you talked that kid off the ledge during the hurricane? When you diagnosed that rash nobody else could figure out because you noticed the knock-off bag? When you manipulated that CEO into saving his own life?”
Jax steps closer, his voice dropping to a rough whisper.
“Did you feel like a tourist then? Or did you feel like you were the only person in the room who could fix it?”
I close my eyes. I can remember the way Elias looked at me when I told him the walls would hold. I can remember the rush of adrenaline when Hymn signed the papers. I didn't feel like the Spare. I didn't feel like a chequebook.
