“Okay.”
She lets out a small, contemplative sigh before she picks her gaze up. “Work has been…difficult lately. And things with Ronnie have been hard because of it. It’s my own fault. I make everything more challenging than it needs to be.”
I start to disagree, but she doesn’t let me.
“I do,” she insists. “Ronnie is upset because I can’t be honest with my parents. And I’m upset because I can’t help my patients or their families more than I already do. It leaves a lot of strain on our relationship. And then there’s you—”
“I’m fine,” I remind her.
“Your career is on the line,” she says. “Another obstacle because of me.”
This time, I don’t let her finish. “Things with Ronnie will work out. And I know you. You go above and beyond for every single patient you have. Their families are lucky to have youassigned to their child’s case. And Iamokay. It will all be fine, Em. I promise.”
Sadness dwells in her eyes.
I rub her arm. “It will work out,” I repeat one more time, as softly as possible.
Eventually, she nods. And I can see that she’s starting to believe it too. “I just needed some space to breathe. To…”
I understand. “You’re always welcome here.”
“Even if I pester you about cute blondes?”
My cheek twitches. “Even then.”
“And make you do facial scrubs with me?”
My skin has never been softer. “Yes.”
“And—”
I laugh at her insistence. “You’re always welcome here, even when you annoy the hell out of me. Like right now.”
“You love me,” she replies with a bright smile that washes away the shadows previously on her face.
“Whatever you say, wife.”
Her laugh echoes in the hall as she goes to the bedroom she claimed upstairs. “You know I’m right, husband.”
CHAPTER SIX
Winter
Wednesday rolls aroundtoo quickly, and I don’t like the nerves pecking at my conscience as my afternoon meeting with Moskins approaches.
When I got home on Monday night, I noticed that my leftovers were joined by two other to-go boxes. I wanted to believe it was a mistake—or maybe a twist of fate that meant I got at leastthreeextra meals out of one lunch. But my assumption that the waiter put someone else’s order in my bag by accident was quickly dispelled when I saw that the other half of Moskins’s lunch was in the third box. It wasn’t a coincidence that I wound up with more food than I ordered, especially not after telling him about Cody. Or, evidently, my love for chicken.
Because the second meal is the chicken parmesan, which I didn’t want to order at lunch for two reasons. One, because it cost twice as much as the chicken tender basket I’d inevitably gotten. And two, because I didn’t want to risk getting the sauce on my shirt and proving to the professional athlete that I am, in fact, a mess.
But there it was, proof that the sarcastic man who I’d sat across from for nearly two hours listened. It was oddly…nice. I blame him and his stupid, thoughtful consideration for the buzzing under my skin since I woke up this morning knowing I’d see him today.
Thankfully, I’ve managed not to dump coffee on myself. When I walk into the conference room, I’ll be stain-free andprofessional. And maybe, if he doesn’t piss me off, I’ll even thank him for what he did.
That one act of kindness made me confident my plan for him could work. Because deep down, I think Thomas Moskins is a good guy who pretends to be bad. Why, I’m not sure. I could also be totally wrong. My dating history would indicate that I am aterriblejudge of character. But that’s beside the point.
I gather my things and walk over to Janel’s office at the other side of the room, knocking on her open door and smiling when she looks up from her computer. “I’m about to go set up in the conference room. Are you ready?”
She checks her watch and curses under her breath, pushing herself to her feet. “I didn’t realize it’d gotten so late.”
