She heard the voices in the doorway and quickly put her knife down and turned to wash her hands. Once her hands were clean she moved out from behind the counter. Leslie and Portia were both greeting Ty.
“Bonsoir,” Léonie greeted them both. She kissed Portia on both cheeks then Leslie.
“You look stunning,” Leslie stood back to look at her in a way that Ty had not. Ty had whistled. He had not mentioned anything about the way she looked.
“Thank you,” Léonie smiled and blushed.
“Really,” Portia nodded her head in agreement.
“Well, you both look ravishing,” Léonie looked from one to the other. Portia wore chiffon palazzo pants, with a silk scarf, and Leslie was in black slacks and fitted black button up, open at the neck and sleeves rolled. He was extremely handsome for a man that wore scrubs all day. Léonie took a quick look at Ty’s jeans and tee shirt.
Ty was remarkably handsome, in a very different way from Leslie, but she would have appreciated his looks more if he’d put any effort into what he was wearing. Especially after she’d spent days getting this dinner together.
As Léonie turned to introduce Ty properly she saw a look cross his face. Leslie was handsome—she knew that as well as every other doctor in the hospital. Apparently, now Ty knew it too. She almost wanted to laugh if his look weren’t so ridiculous.
“I trust you’ve just met my…” My what, she wondered. Boyfriend had always sounded so wrong to her. “…You’ve met Ty? Ty this is Leslie and this is Portia.” There were friendly greetings and smiles from Léonie’s two work companions and Ty gave a subpar greeting in response. Once again Léonie felt the need to swallow down the burning tightness that was growing in her throat. He was being stubborn about something that didn’t matter in the least, yet here he was making a fuss over it. He had every possibility of ruining the night for her and her face grew hot again at the thought.
“Ty, Portia, would you two mind grabbing drinks? I have to finish up in the kitchen. Maybe Leslie could help me?” She looked at Leslie who began moving at once toward her. The room was a large open floor plan so no one would really be cut off from the others.
“Que voulez-vous boire?” Léonie asked Leslie what he wanted to drink as they walked to the kitchen area.
“I’ll have what you’re having,” He responded in French.
“Ty would you open the Aurelien Revillot, please?” She called out to Ty giving him only a fleeting look. “It is from the area in France where I was born, I think you will like it.”
Ty didn’t respond but Léonie could see that he was opening the wine despite his foul mood.
He sloppily poured the wine into two glasses then took them both to the counter.
“Thank you,” Léonie tried to sound as normal as possible.
“Mm hm,” He turned back to the side table bar where he opened a beer, ignored the glasses, and drank straight from the bottle.
“What are you drinking Portia?” Léonie called to her friend, realizing that Ty was not going to go out of his way to make her colleague feel at home.
“Vodka tonic,” She lifted the glass she’d just made for herself then began walking toward the kitchen. “Everything looks so lovely.”
“Thank you,” Léonie smiled and looked around at her own handy work.
“How do you manage this commute?” Leslie asked. “How long does it take you to get to work without traffic?”
“An hour,” Léonie looked down to the asparagus tart that was just about ready to go into the oven. “I won’t even tell you how long it is if I’m leaving in rush hour—especially if I’m going the wrong direction.” So many people lived outside of DC but worked in the city that traffic was unbearable if she was stuck in rush hour going into DC in the morning or going to Baltimore when the rest of DC was leaving the city for the day.
“You should just take a nap at the hospital until the traffic is over. I’m certain you don’t get enough sleep.” Leslie smiled affectionately at Léonie.
“You’re right, I always just want to get home right away because I spend so much time away, but I really should be putting traffic time to better use.” She didn’t look at Ty but could feel his eyes on her.
“So, Léonie didn’t tell me,” Ty walked over to the trio. His voice was normal enough but Léonie could feel the tension burning off of him. “Are you two a couple?”
Portia laughed loudly at this, “No. I’m married.” She lifted her ring finger. “My husband is a doctor in the regular adult ER—he’s on tonight. Saturday nights are really busy for them.” She looked at Léonie and Leslie for confirmation.
“At least we don’t get drunk patients, or ones that need their jaws wired shut because of a fight.” Léonie said with a smile.
“And you speak French too?” Ty turned to Leslie.
“Yes, I lived in France for a year after college.” Leslie smiled. He had one hand in his pocket the other around his glass. He wasn’t actually helping Léonie because really she didn’t require any help but he was behind the counter nonetheless.
“Where did you go to school?” Ty asked.
“I was born in London as you can probably tell, I did my pre-med at King’s College and then Harvard Medical School.” Leslie looked a little embarrassed of his accomplished education and Ty looked further incensed.
“Portia went to Johns Hopkins,” Léonie said as a reminder that there were in fact two guests in front of Ty and to leave one out was rude.
“I think I heard the door,” Leslie paused and everyone else did too. The knock was obvious the second time around. Léonie quickly put the asparagus tart in the oven then walked to the door. She was sure Ty would have done it but she wanted to show him how a polite host was supposed to act.
Léonie opened the door to Deacon and his wife.
“Welcome,” Léonie stepped aside and opened the door wide as the two came in. “You must be Deacon and…” She paused for Deacon or Ty to introduce the wife.
“This is Mercy,” Deacon gestured to his wife. Both husband and wife were also well dressed—not fancy but nice.
“I am Léonie. It’s so nice to have you,” She gave a surprised Deacon a kiss on both cheeks and then repeated the gesture with Mercy who seemed much more at ease. “Let me take your coats,” She helped Mercy off with hers and promptly handed it to Ty. Deacon cut out the middleman and handed his directly over to Ty.
“Good to see you,” Ty gave Deacon a swat on the back.
“I love your dress,” Mercy said to Léonie, taking in her whole outfit.
“Thank you, I love your sweater,” The blue cardigan had little bit of embroidery around the edges. Mercy seemed genuinely happy with the compliment and Léonie held out her hand for the couple to walk further into the house.
She made introductions all around then got the two new guests something to drink. Deacon, who Léonie assumed would be the same sort of beer-only drinker that Ty was, chose wine instead.
“Jeans and a tee shirt, really?” Deacon said when Ty came back from putting the coats away. “After Léonie went through so much trouble?”
Ty looked particularly ill humored with his friends comment and Léonie couldn’t help herself but to smile widely.
“So nice to have you here,” Léonie laughed and smiled at Deacon, who actually blushed.
“Yeah, great.” Ty said with sarcasm that no one took seriously. The group talked without much help from Ty. Glasses were filled again and a contented sense of camaraderie began to flow amongst the two groups who had never met before.
“Shall we make our way to the table?” Léonie put out a hand. Léonie took the tart out of the oven before turning the temperature down. She placed the dessert on the rack above the Ham. Winter salad and asparagus tart began their meal. There was a general quite followed only by murmurs to the chef as everyone began. There was no scarfing of food tonight, at least not by anyone but Ty who was still the first to finish. Decidedly praiseworthy sounds issued up from each
guest and Léonie could not suppress her delight with this and smiled happily as she looked at each person.
When she got to Ty he was staring back at her. His lips were pressed together and he had the look of a bored, dissenting, teenager on his face. Léonie’s smile quickly vanished. She looked away from Ty and picked up her wine glass, closing her eyes as the familiar taste swept easily down her throat.
Mercy asked all three doctors about their work and each told a few stories.
“Leslie has been a part of some groundbreaking work on preventing childhood autism,” Portia mentioned.
“But I thought you worked in the ER?” Mercy asked.
“I do, but during my time at Harvard I worked in a lab… I had a few theories and we put some of them to the test.”
“He’s being modest,” Léonie said. “Some of the research he did has become the basis for a new group of scientists that are making real progress. He might be up for a big award next year.”
Leslie smiled sheepishly and looked down at his plate.
“He has a hard time talking about himself,” Portia laughed. “We would never have known if there weren’t a big article about it in the New York Times.”
“Ok, ok,” Leslie blushed. “Let’s talk about something else.”
“Yes, please,” Ty whispered under his breath as he brought his fourth beer bottle to his lips. Léonie turned to him sharply. No matter how quiet he thought he was being, everyone at the table had heard him.
“I’ll get dessert,” Léonie stood abruptly, smiling at everyone—trying to buff out the comment that left an awkward, uncomfortable energy in its wake. “Perhaps Portia you could refill any drinks and maybe Leslie you could change the music, I think it’s starting to repeat itself. There are all sorts of lists on there to choose from,” She began walking to the kitchen. “I leave the choice to your good taste.”
The two other doctors stood, Portia taking drink orders as she went.
Deacon and Mercy lived close by and so they’d taken a cab over and would cab home, so they could drink as much as they liked. Portia was carpooling with Leslie and could also drink as much as she liked. Only Leslie had to pay attention to how much he was taking in. She’d originally suggested he spend the night in their guest room but now she was glad that he’d turned the offer down.
Leslie chose an upbeat Spanish guitar mix and the vanilla frangipane tart with apricots and softly whipped creme fraiche was brought out and served with much enthusiasm from its future consumers.
As the plates were being cleaned of their contents Leslie looked up, “This music makes me want to dance.”
“Me too,” Mercy said with a little head and torso movement that went with the beats of the guitar.”
“Why don’t we?” Portia suggested, sitting up high in her seat. “I haven’t been dancing in such a long time.”
“There’s a place that we could cab over to, maybe five minutes, Latin music. People would probably be showing up just about now,” Léonie was already imagining the group with swirling Latin music moving them along. She looked at Ty with a smile, forgetting for a moment what a jerk he’d just been. Ty’s face was still tightly set.
“I’ll call us all a cab,” Deacon said as he pulled out his phone. “I guess we’ll need two sedans or one of those big minivan ones.”
“You can count on five people, I’m not going.” Ty said to Deacon. Deacon looked back at Ty with an appraising look.
“Ok, whatever you like.” Deacon looked back down at his phone and dialed out.
Léonie stood, “Since you’re staying and I did all the cooking, I suppose you should do the dishes.”
Chapter Nineteen
Léonie had not come home until three in the morning. Ty had checked since he hadn’t been able to sleep with her still out of the house. Of course he’d pretended to be sleeping when she crawled into bed.
Even after she’d brushed her teeth, changed, and washed her face, she still smelled like wine and what he imagined a Latin dance club smelled like.
She was off on Sunday and could have slept in, but Ty still found that she’d woken up before him. When he moved downstairs he saw her sitting in the little window seat nook with the morning paper, a bowl of coffee, and wearing the shorts and tee shirt she’d slept in.
She didn’t look up when he came down. Ty frowned and moved into the kitchen to pour himself a cup of coffee and to grab a bagel with cream cheese.
He moved noisily around the kitchen but Léonie still didn’t look up at him or even show that she heard him moving at all.
Ty leaned against the counter and took his first sip of coffee while he waited for the toaster to pop.
“Have fun last night?” He’d meant to freeze her out the way she was doing but was apparently lacking the willpower this morning.
“Mmm, I had a great time,” She said while keeping her eyes trained on the newspaper in front of her.
Ty nodded, then moved to get his bagel so he could smother it in cream cheese.
“Did you dance with Leslie?” Ty’s tone was sardonic and he saw Léonie’s back bristle. She slapped the two sides of her newspaper together and set it with her coffee down on the seat. She pushed both feet to the ground and walked over to him.
“Yes, Ty, I did—and he’s a great dancer. You know who else danced with him? Mercy, Portia, and even Deacon… sort of. Do you have any other questions for me?”
Ty looked at her, suddenly feeling that with her reaction the power had shifted to him. He thought silently but Léonie had no patience for him. She grabbed her newspaper and her coffee and went upstairs.
Ty took more time then usual eating his bagel and thinking about the night before. To his mind he had every right to be angry. In a way, she’d lied to him. Even if she’d mentioned it a few times, she really should have made it very clear that Leslie was a man—a good looking, smart, British, man. Throwing it in every now and again wasn’t really the same thing as full disclosure.
He frowned trying to decide if his own reasoning made good sense but it didn’t matter. Today he was just set on being upset about it—the night before was a disaster and he was in no way ready to admit any fault. He was suddenly trying to go through his mind to remember every single thing Léonie had ever said about Leslie. She’d gone to coffee with him. They’d talked about France. He remembered her mentioning, now that he’d heard them speaking in French together, how much she liked speaking to someone in her native language.
He was pretty sure they’d even gone to a French film together. Dammit, why hadn’t he paid better attention?
Was it possible that Léonie had been cheating on him right under his nose? Could it be a French thing, an open relationship in her mind? Was that a normal thing in France? He would look it up.
Ty looked up and saw Léonie walking down the steps. She was in tight gray jeans, a flowing black blouse, dark grey booties, with her large bag over her shoulder. She walked to the closet and took out her winter jacket. He wanted to ask where she was going but also didn’t want to admit that he cared.
Ultimately, he didn’t have to. Léonie turned and Ty thought angrily about how beautiful she looked. Of course any man, especially a smart one would want to spend as much time with her as possible. It made perfect sense.
“I am going to work at Capitol Coffee. You can brood today, but that is it. I have done nothing to deserve this, nor did my or your friends last night. You have acted like a temperamental little baby and you will get over by the time I come home.” It wasn’t a question and Léonie did not wait for a reply. She turned and left the house, closing the front door with a thud.
But, Ty did not get over it while she was away. He didn’t like being told what to do and whether it was deserved or not he was upset.
~
Once Léonie had come home from her six-hour coffee break Ty spent the rest of the evening in front of the TV not saying anything to her. She took a bath and then stayed in the room for the rest of the night.
When he thought she would be asleep he went upstairs to sneak into bed. But once he got up there the door to the bedroom was closed and locked. Ty stood looking at it for a long moment then turned and huffed to the guest room.
Léonie had an early Monday morning shift that started at six so she was long gone by the time Ty woke up. He went into the bedroom with its neatly made bed and pulled out his uniform, setting it on the bed. The coffee pot had turned off since it had been on for so long, so the coffee was barely lukewarm when Ty poured himself a cup. He hated the taste of reheated coffee, especially now that he didn’t add any sugar or cream to diffuse the taste.
Ty was in an even worse mood then he had been all weekend by the time he got to work.
“Hey, man, you should have come out with us to the Latin place Saturday night. We had a great time. Léonie is gorgeous by the way.” Deacon came into Ty’s small office and sat down across from him, reaching his legs out and taking a stretch
“I wasn’t in the mood for dancing,” Ty stiffened and Deacon nodded.
“I could tell, we all could.” Deacon stood feeling Ty’s bad mood was still in full swing.
“You two arguing or something?”
“Sort of,” Ty said as he exhaled loudly and puffed out his cheeks.
“If you don’t mind my saying, you’ve got something really good going on—”
“—I do mind.” Ty cut him off and turned to the work on his desk that he’d not taken a look at yet.
Deacon gave a little whistle and stood. He opened his mouth as if he was going to say something else. Then he changed his mind instead and left Ty’s office, closing the door behind himself.
Ty leaned back in his chair with both hands making their way through his hair.
He spent the rest of the morning trying not to make social contact with anyone else in the office. He supervised the work of a dozen guys, two of which were constantly making Ty’s life harder. Mostly because they just didn’t follow the simple directions they were given, which was more aggravating to Ty then anything else. All they had to do was read directions and follow through with them, but somehow they always forgot this. This morning, Ty didn’t even care if he had to fix a bunch of stuff later, he just wanted to be alone.
Romancing the SEAL: The Complete Box Set (SEAL Military Romance Series Book 4) Page 11