Perfecting For Love - A Standalone Novel (A Doctors Romance Love Story) (Burbank Brothers, Book #3)

by Naomi Niles

Sunday came and I felt like I was dressing for a funeral. I’d awakened queasy and nervous and contemplated calling the entire thing off, and even coming clean to Dad. I knew that would mean the end of Sean’s job and any future I might have with him. The risk was just too high and I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

  I put on a dark-gray skirt with a low-cut, black blouse and moderately-high black heels. I took a bit of extra care with my makeup and hair – and then surveyed my bedroom. I saw a wrinkle at the lower corner of my bed and sprang to smooth it.

  I noticed that since I was alone, I’d become more conscious of my home surroundings. I’d never been much of a housekeeper before; if it didn’t smell, it was fine—that had long been my motto. Now, I had become almost obsessive about my surroundings. I dusted the furniture every week, even when it didn’t need it. Sean hadn’t been by and therefore there was no construction dust in the air. Nothing needed dusting, but I’d attended to it, regardless.

  I busied myself wiping down the counter in the kitchen again, moving the few appliances I owned and aligning them by height and frequency of use. Finally satisfied, I hung the towel over the oven handle and settled down to wait for Bob.

  Three-thirty came and there was a loud knock on the door downstairs. I grabbed my purse and coat and headed down to open it. Bob was standing outside, his blond hair reflecting the early spring sunlight.

  “Hello there, beautiful,” he greeted me, bending to kiss me on the cheek. “Nice place you have here,” he said, expectantly peeking over my shoulder.

  “Where are my manners? Of course, come in, Bob. I’ll show you around.”

  “Don’t mind if I do,” he answered and came in as I stepped back out of the way.

  “So, what provoked you to buy a firehouse?” he began the conversation and stood looking around, waiting for the tour to begin.

  “I don’t know. It was half impulse and maybe even a little competitiveness with my dad. As you know, I grew up around firehouses and Dad had always been the top dog. He’s got a strong personality, Bob. I’ve had to live up to his expectations, something that wasn’t always easy. I think he was disappointed not to have had a son and I have to play the dual role thing.” I heard myself saying the words and wondered where they’d come from. I’d never given any introspective thought to my relationship with my dad; it had always just been what it was and I’d responded in the manner that felt most natural.

  “Huh. Well, I can tell you that you certainly don’t look like a son,” he flattered me with his words, beaming down at me and eyeing my legs in the heels. “You look great, Gwyne. Did I tell you that earlier?”

  My tummy did a flip flop. What had I gotten myself into? “Kind of you to say that, and I suppose it’s a good prelude to filling you in on Dad. We need to look like we’ve been dating for a while now. Not a sleep together kind of dating, mind you – Dad wouldn’t hold for that. Just a nice, gentle, occasional date that began with revisiting our college exploits and now moving on to what you do for a living and what I do.” That was when it hit me. “What do you do for a living, Bob?” I asked him. I realized that I knew very little and this was going to blow our cover.

  “Architect,” he said casually, his attention on the building and the enormously high ceiling. “I work from my home and design mostly office spaces for older buildings that need a facelift. That’s sort of why I’m fascinated with your little setup here,” he added. “It’s right down my alley, so to speak.”

  “Really?” I was instantly on alert. Bob’s expertise would be invaluable in developing my new space and although I didn’t want to admit it, there was a time when I might have been tempted to curry a few favors from my college friend. I was beyond that now. “Are you expensive?” I asked him.

  “Not to you, I’m not,” his gaze came downward and settled on my face. “God, Gwyne, but you look good. Did I already tell you that once? There’s a sort of glow in your face.”

  “I’ve been spending a lot of time outdoors, going back and forth to Dad’s. I guess I got more sun than I normally do,” I filled in. “Here,” I said, breaking the awkward moment. “Let me show you around.”

  I took him upstairs to see the apartment where I was staying. He looked around thoroughly, but I continued to find his eyes coming back to me. “Cozy,” he remarked and eyed my bed. I moved him on quickly.

  We went down to the bays and he looked at the work that Sean had done up to that point. “Nice work. Who is doing the remodel for you?” came his natural curiosity.

  “That would be Sean,” I stated succinctly.

  “Sean, as in the guy who lives with you?” he asked, his expression one of avid curiosity.

  “Did live here, in the bay area,” I corrected him. “He doesn’t live here any longer.”

  “Did you two break up?” he asked.

  “No, it’s not like that exactly. As I explained, Dad can’t know that Sean and I have been seeing one another. He would have another heart attack and definitely boot Sean out of employment. Sean is just trying to get his feet on the ground and, well, you know how expensive it is to live here in the city. Sean would end up leaving and going back west.”

  He was studying my face. “Do I detect a note of fear there in my undeniably brave friend?”

  I shrugged. “I suppose, yes, you do. Bob, here’s the thing… Dad has always been the center of my world. I’ve had to please him my entire life. More so now that Mom is gone. He watches me like a hawk. Sean is a wonderful guy and I love him, but he works for Dad and that’s not going to fly in Dad’s book. He doesn’t want me with a firefighter and while he has nothing personal against Sean—well, it just won’t work in his book. So, now, Dad has someone in his life and I was hoping that would take the inspection off of me, but it’s not the case. I am feeling overwhelmed, almost suffocated. Since Dad isn’t getting around as usual, his radar has intensified on the only thing within his sphere of vision – and unfortunately, that’s me and my private life. I can’t seem to escape his scrutiny. I’m grown now and I hate this. But it’s all I know to do. That’s why I asked for your help. I’m just… just…” I finished, tears beginning to roll down my cheeks. What was the matter with me? Was I having a nervous breakdown or something?

  Bob came toward me and wrapped his arms around me, pressing my head against his chest. “There now; it can’t be as bad as all that. I seem to remember you as being a very creative little gal. Surely you can come up with some sort of subterfuge that throws your dad off the trail?”

  “That’s what you’re all about, don’t you see? If Dad thinks I’m involved with someone, especially someone he finds suitable, he’ll back off and give me some breathing room. He won’t scrutinize me the way he’s been doing.”

  “Yes, I understand the plan. What I don’t understand is how it’s working for you. Right now, I’m standing here with you and your Sean is nowhere in sight. We’re on our way to your dad’s for dinner and he’s going to get the very strong impression that I care about you. Which, by the way, would not be so far from the truth. I always did have a crush on you in school, Gwyne. But you were just always a little bit beyond my reach: a little too aloof and involved elsewhere. Maybe it’s my new look or the fact that I was in a short relationship that gives me the bravery now to tell you this, but I used to fancy myself in love with you. With your Sean not around, it wouldn’t be hard for me to fall completely for you and become exactly what your dad thinks I am. So, where is this Sean?”

  “I’m right here,” came a voice from the shadows of the bay.

  “Sean!” I broke away from Bob’s arms and started toward Sean. “I haven’t seen you…” I began.

  Sean held up a hand. “I noticed that you aren’t exactly grieving in the corner about it,” he said, his voice silvery cold and detached.

  I stopped in my tracks, feet from throwing myself into his arms. “What? What are you talking about?” That was when I realized the scene he had walked in on. It could definitely have been misconstrued. “
No, no, you have it all wrong. This is Bob, the friend from college who is covering for me as a boyfriend so Dad won’t suspect I’m with you? Remember?”

  “You are? That’s not what it looked like when I walked in,” came his raw voice.

  I threw out my arms. “No, no, you have it all wrong. Bob is taking me to Dad’s for dinner.” I don’t know why I thought those words would make Sean feel any better. It was like throwing oil on a fire.

  “I see. Well, I won’t hang around and get in the way. I just came by to get some overdue work done, Gwyne. I was sort of hoping you’d be home and you and I might have a bite together.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of bills. “You see? I can pay this time,” he snarled sarcastically.

  How had this happened? “Wait, Sean, you’re not seeing this as it is. Dad is feeling better and all over my business. You know he can’t know about us. Dad insisted that Bob come to the house for dinner. That’s why he’s here. Sean, you know the plan. Tell him, Bob!” I pleaded, whirling around to face my pseudo date and begged him with my eyes to straighten out the misinterpretation. Bob, however, merely held out his arms and shrugged. I realized with horror that Bob wasn’t going to stand up and clear this mess up. He was interested in me and would let Sean draw his own conclusions if it meant that I might become available. I was horrified at the mess I had created. “Sean?” I turned back to add to my argument, but Sean’s back was to me and he was headed to the door. “Sean!” I called out and went after him, but he had a head start and there was a brief flash of sunlight as he opened the door and slammed it behind himself.

  I was in shock, staring at the closed door and my mind whirling with the realization of what had just happened. I felt sick and ran for the bathroom in the corner of the bay. I lost whatever I’d eaten that was still in my stomach and finally emerged, a wet cloth over my forehead and feeling as though my world was about to end.

  “Why didn’t you speak up?” I confronted Bob. “You know how I feel about him. I thought you were okay with helping me out of this mess?” I accused him. I still felt ill and was tempted to head back to the bathroom, but instead swayed with the enormity of the mess I was now in.

  “You seemed to have said it all,” he shrugged. “I think your Sean is a bit of a hothead, myself,” he added, flicking an invisible fleck off his coat. “I don’t know why he overreacted like that. It’s not like he caught us in bed, you know.”

  I stood there with my mouth open, unable to believe what I was involved in. “Bob, you agreed to this charade. Please, don’t ruin this for me now.”

  A look of compassion came over his face. I must have looked pitiful, standing there with my wet cloth and shaking knees. “Hey, you look awful. You okay?” he asked, moving toward me.

  “I’m upset! Why shouldn’t I be? You know what’s going on here and this whole thing is a sham. I’m feeling guilty for lying to Dad, feeling a little guilty that I’m asking you to get involved in this, and really, really guilty about what Sean thinks he just witnessed. What the hell have I done here?”

  “Just off hand, I’d say you’ve gotten yourself in a bit of a pickle, my dear Gwyne,” he smirked and I knew he was enjoying my embarrassment. Bob’s appearance may have changed, but he was the same guy inside. He’d always been a little too self-serving for my preferences, but then I had to admit that I was pretty much the same and maybe that’s why we’d gotten along so well. We were two birds of a feather. “Hey, c’mere,” he said, walking toward me. He took the cloth from my hand and dabbed at the corners of my mouth. “You up to this dinner thing? If you’re not, I’ll just pop out and get us something to eat in and we can go upstairs to that cozy, little apartment and watch a movie until you calm down.”

  I realized with horror that his suggestion sounded wonderful. I knew why, though: it was retreat. I wouldn’t have to deal with Dad and Carla and the inevitable list of questions they would throw out. At the same time, I could forget about Sean, temporarily, and just be coddled. God, but I felt awful and coddling seemed terribly tempting at the moment. I reached down into my gut and found whatever bit of integrity still remained there, though. “No, no… I’ll be fine. Let’s just get this over with, shall we?” I pulled away and picked up my bag and coat I’d brought down with me. “Let’s just go to Dad’s and as soon as dinner is done, help me make some sort of excuse and we’ll leave, okay?”

  He nodded, but I could tell he guessed I wasn’t all that opposed to his suggestion. Perhaps it gave him a thread of hope, but he moved toward me and extended his arm good-naturedly. “M’lady?” he mocked, nodding toward the door where Sean had just left. “Shall we?”

  I nodded and flipped off the lights as we left. I felt like a prisoner headed for the electric chair.

  Chapter 26

  “Nice to see you again, Bob,” Dad greeted him, dressed in a white shirt and dress slacks. Dad looked the best I’d seen him yet since his recovery. He was obviously reclaiming his personality as well. “I began to think Gwyne was making all this up,” he added, and then introduced Carla.

  I stood in the background, miserable with the events of the day so far. I had this sense of impending doom that it was only going to get worse.

  “Gwyne has always been a bit of a rascal when it comes to you, sir,” Bob said, throwing gas on the smoldering fire that was my misery.

  “Oh?” Dad asked, curious, and instantly his eyes were on me. I felt ill again and moved toward the bathroom, out of the room where the smell of dinner was getting to me. “Where are you going, Gwyne?” Dad asked, putting a stop to my flight path.

  “Just going to wash my hands before dinner,” I improvised and knew that would make Dad even more suspicious. I had never been one to wash my hands before dinner, a fact that always made Dad peeved with me. It had long been a sensitive stand-off between us. He had, my entire life, ordered me to the bathroom to wash my hands and I, knowing that he couldn’t pursue me in there to inspect, had always turned on the water and pretended. Dad knew, however, and we both tacitly agreed silently that he couldn’t prove otherwise so it was a subliminal battle ground for the both of us.

  I made my way to the bathroom before he could object and I could hear their conversation from the next room. Dad was saying, “Bob, can I get you a little wine before dinner?”

  Bob must have nodded because the conversations stopped then and when I emerged from the bathroom, Dad was handing a goblet to Bob and another to Carla. “Gwyne? Some wine?” he offered.

  I shook my head. “No, thanks, Dad. I’m a little under the weather and will skip it,” I told him and his eyebrows rose.

  “Nothing contagious, is it?” he asked suspiciously. “You know, the doctor said I need to watch out for viruses – my immunity still isn’t back to where it should be.”

  “No, nothing like that, Dad. I’ve just been working long hours and not sleeping much. I’m fine. Nothing for you to worry about,” I reassured him and saw Carla smile.

  We went in to dinner shortly thereafter and Dad seemed oblivious that Bob wouldn’t care to hear the details of his operation as dinner conversation. Bob continued to smile surreptitiously at me from over his plate of roast beef and mashed potatoes. I didn’t know why, but Bob’s behavior was getting on my nerves. I supposed it was because with each second that passed by, I felt I was digging myself in deeper and deeper with Dad. That bothered me. A lot. I let Dad go on about his gory details, however, as it took the spotlight, and any sticky questions, off of me.

  Carla seemed oblivious as well and I could tell she was more concerned with the meal she’d cooked and whether she was doing a good job as hostess. She moved between the table and the kitchen smoothly, producing bowl after bowl of tempting food. I took a small spoon of everything that was offered and pushed it around on my plate. I had no appetite, but didn’t want to offend her. I couldn’t wait for the day to end so Bob would take me home and I could crawl into bed and recover from what this nightmare had become. I was trying not to think o
f Sean, otherwise I knew I’d start crying right there at the dinner table.

  Dad finally ran out of hospital stories and began to ask Bob about his job. I listened with half an ear in case any question was directed to me and to cover for any way that Bob might blow our cover. Dad started in on politics then and while I didn’t pay attention to the details, it wasn’t going well. Dad seemed to be raising his voice and his hand was gesturing; Bob, it appeared, was giving him a heavy dose of opposition and enjoying it. I threw Bob a look to shut up and not aggravate Dad and he picked up on it, and while he closed his mouth, I could see the disapproval all over his face. I didn’t care.

  The nightmare finally drew to a close with the arrival of a Dutch apple pie from the kitchen. Again, I passed on anything more than the slimmest slice. “I’m starting to put on a few pounds with the winter lack of exercise,” I made my excuse and while Carla looked disappointed, she immediately turned her attention to spoiling Dad. Unless you knew better, you’d think they were married and had been together from the beginning. I missed my mom with a pang and knew I was completely in a funk.

  “Let me help with dishes,” I offered weakly, standing to gather plates even before people were done.

  “No, no, let me do that later,” Carla immediately popped up. “That will give me something to do while your dad takes his nap,” she explained.

  His nap. Yes, that was my cue to leave as soon as Bob put that last bite of pie down his gullet. He and Dad had fallen silent, both pretending to be involved in the pie when I could feel the tension in the atmosphere. Bob must have said something that pissed Dad off, the glowering look on my dad’s face spelling out the anger he was submerging.

  It was all for the best, however, since as soon as the pie was gone, Bob pushed away his plate and shoved back his chair. Dad didn’t offer a single word of protest. Carla offered coffee and Bob refused with a wave of his hand. “I think our girl here is a little under the weather and I should get her home so she can nap,” he improvised, and despite my irritation with him, I could have kissed him at that moment. Maybe he wasn’t as dense as he pretended to be.