“I’ll pay her your compliments when we see her tonight.”
“She’ll know me as Dr. Liu. Say hi from me.”
“I will. You don’t know how bizarre it is to meet a resident who has positive things to say about my aunt.”
Char laughs. “She can be a dragon. But I’m not sure she deserves her reputation. Lots of surgeons are demanding in the operating room. People complain about her more because she’s a woman and a bit eccentric.”
“True, she’s... ” I lose my train of thought because Lettie steps out of her room. And I’m in trouble, deep trouble. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about Lettie Benson since the holiday party. But that was a high-emotion day. Maybe, I just imagined my attraction to her. It’s been two months, and... she is more lovely than I remember. She’s wearing a simple black evening gown that shimmers with tiny beads. It’s so Lettie, simple and classic with a sparkly twist. The way her dress catches the light reminds me of her bewitching eyes.
“Liam?” Lettie says my name, and I realize I haven’t said anything since she entered the room and yes, my mouth is slightly ajar. I snap it close. Char watches me with a smirk.
“You look... look,” I begin. My mind is a jumble. “I don’t have words.”
“Gee, thanks.” Lettie sounds sarcastic, but her eyes are full of mirth. “How about tolerable?”
“How about beautiful?” I venture. “You look beautiful.” This seems to please her. She blushes slightly and looks away.
“Shall we?” I ask, eager to escape the feel of Char’s calculating gaze.
Lettie puts on a white fur wrap before we go out to the chilly evening. I was lucky to find a parking spot right in front of her apartment. I open the passenger door.
“Nice car,” she says when I take the driver’s seat.
“It was my dad’s.” It’s a 1953 Jaguar XK120. My dad was obsessed with this car and never let me drive it. Now that it’s mine, I love it far more than a man should love an inanimate object.
“I’m sorry you lost him,” she says, her voice gentle and sincere. “That must be hard.”
I want to agree. I want to tell her more. But I’ve been trained to hide my feelings, to maintain a brave face. “I manage.”
Lettie looks at me with so much sympathy that, once again, I’m tempted to tell her everything weighing on my shoulders. But she doesn’t need my sob story. I shouldn’t even have a sob story. I am fortune’s child—born to wealthy, loving parents with good health and adequate intelligence. I have nothing to complain about.
I turn on the engine. “Tell me about growing up in Iowa.”
“First, let me make it clear,” she says emphatically. “I did NOT grow up on a farm.”
“What’s wrong with a farm? I grew up on a farm.”
“You did?” she says with surprise. “Cool! Nothing’s wrong with a farm. It’s just that as soon as people hear I’m from Iowa, they imagine me driving a tractor.”
“Okay, so no tractor.” I chuckle. “What do your parents do?”
“My mom is mostly a stay at home mom, taking care of me and my two sisters. But recently she’s been working more as a costume designer for the community theatre. My dad’s a professor.”
“Really? And what does he teach?”
“He studies birds. I know, not very interesting.”
“No, that’s cool! We deal with birds a lot in my business... primarily getting rid of them.”
“My dad teaches at Iowa State, which was originally an agriculture school. So he teaches a lot of that sort of stuff.”
“So he’s an ornithologist?”
“No, he’s an avian ecologist.”
“Cool! I bet he’s fascinating to talk to.”
“You’re the first person to say that. He bores most people with bird talk.”
