I blink, tearing my gaze away from Amara. I forgot Maddie was even here, and the look on her face tells me she knows it. The silent warning look she sends me has me hesitating, but I shake my head against better judgement.
“That’s quite all right,” I tell her. “I’ll do it myself.”
She nods and walks over to the cabinet in my office, clearly insistent on not leaving me alone with Amara. I bite down on my lip as I take the glass bottle from her.
“I won’t require assistance,” I say, knowing full well that I’m making a mistake asking to be alone with Amara. There’s something about her I can’t resist. I’m a rational guy, and her grandfather’s warning is still ringing through my ears loud and clear, but it isn’t enough to make me resist temptation, to make me walk away from a chance to have a moment alone with her.
Maddie looks into my eyes, and I force a polite professional smile onto my face. She stares at me for a second, and then she nods.
“I didn’t think she’d leave,” Amara says the second the door closes behind Maddie. She sounds amused, but there’s an edge to her tone. One that fills me with curiosity.
“Me neither,” I murmur as I open the bottle of disinfectant.
“She’s pretty,” Amara says, her tone oddly aggravated.
I smile to myself and look at her. “Is that so?”
She purses her lips, a hint of impatience in her eyes. “You don’t think so?”
I kneel in front of her and look into her eyes as my hand hovers over her scraped knee. “Not as pretty as you are,” I say, right before pressing the damp cloth on her skin, distracting her. She hisses, but her eyes never leave mine. I almost wish I didn’t have to focus on her wounds, because I don’t want to break this moment between us, and I should.
She smiles at me, and I smirk as I clean up the rest of her wounds. “That’s the second time I’ve got you on your knees in front of me.”
I grin and drag my attention away from her bloodied knees. “So it is. Are you turning this into a habit, Ms. Astor?”
“Amara,” she corrects me. “I told you to call me Amara… and what if I am?”
I place my hands on either side of her, my eyes on hers. “I guess I’ll just be at your mercy, falling to my knees at your beck and call.”
She laughs, and my heart skips a fucking beat. She’s beautiful. The way her cheeks dimple, the way her eyes narrow when she laughs, yeah… she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.
Tearing my gaze away from her is a battle, and it’s a losing one. I can’t stop smiling as I stick bandaids on her knees, my eyes trailing upward every few seconds.
“Do you flirt with all your patients?”
I smirk unapologetically. “Only the ones that come on my fingers.”
Her lips fall open, and then she bursts out laughing. “You, Dr. Grant, are just the worst.”
I know I’m taking it too far, but I can’t resist her. I can’t resist that smile of hers. I want to tease her, make her laugh. I shouldn’t, though. She’s a patient. A student. Harold Astor’s granddaughter.
I rise to my feet, my smile falling. Amara isn’t someone I can flirt with. I’ve never once been unprofessional or inappropriate with a patient, not even when they were blatantly into me. Why is it different with her? Why her, when she’s someone I can never get involved with.
I force my polite physician smile onto my face and take a step back. “You had a panic attack today, Amara. Is that something that occurs often?”
She looks away, the mood instantly changed. “No. I haven’t had one in years. It surprised me, too. I… there was a trigger. I just, I got a text message from someone I hadn’t heard from in years, and my thoughts just started to spiral. I couldn’t understand why he’d contact me now, and I lost control over my emotions.”
He? I involuntarily grit my teeth. Whoever contacted her must have caused her enough pain for her to respond the way she did today, and it has my every protective instinct jumping into action.
“I can refer you to a psychologist,” I tell her, wanting to help in any way I can.
Amara grimaces. “I’m still seeing one,” she says, her voice soft. She looks up at me, her fingers brushing over my arm briefly. “It’s not what you think. There’s nothing crazy or overly concerning going on, Dr. Grant. The message… it was my father.”
I relax involuntarily. I didn’t even realize I’d been so tense. Amara looks away, her arms wrapping around herself. Her father, huh? I gathered from Maddie’s endless gossiping that Amara’s father left them years ago, forcing her mother to go back home to Harold Astor after he disowned her, but that’s as much as I know.
“I haven’t heard from him in years, and I couldn’t understand why he’d contact me now. I started to overthink things and worry about my mother. About having to tell her he contacted me. She’s not going to respond well. I might have overreacted, but my mother would easily put me to shame.”
I move closer to her involuntarily and shake my head. “I didn’t think you overreacted, Amara. Not even for a second. There’s clearly pain there, and you’re only human,” I murmur, brushing her hair out of her face gently. “It must have been overwhelming and surprising. I can’t even imagine how you must have felt.”
She nods, a hint of surprise in her eyes. “Thank you,” she whispers. “Thank you for being there, for helping me. I’m not sure I could’ve pulled out of that suffocating feeling if you hadn’t been there.”
I shake my head. “You would have.”
She looks away, a haunted look in her eyes. My heart tightens when she reaches for her handbag beside her. I don’t want her to go.
“I’ve taken up so much of your time today, Dr. Grant. I’ll pay your consultation fee, of course, but I wanted to apologize.”
I shake my head. “There’s no need. I dragged you in here, after all. This one’s on me.”
She rises to her feet and walks to the door, turning back to look at me with a playful look in her eyes. I’m glad she managed to shake off the sadness that surrounded her just moments ago, but I can’t help but feel that it’s all just bravado. I excel at putting up a front. She isn’t fooling me.
“I’ve had you on your knees twice now. I should really return the favor sometime soon,” she says, her eyes dropping down to my trousers, and then she walks away, leaving me feeling out of it. This woman is an enigma, and with every interaction she cements herself further into my thoughts.
I shake my head as I walk to my desk, my eyes dropping to the photo of my parents. I’d give the world to speak to them one more time. I know not all parents are the same and that Amara must have her reasons… but from where I’m standing having parents that want to be part of your life is better than having none at all.
I lift the photo frame with trembling hands, my heart aching. Would I remember them without the photos? Every day, the memory of them fades a little more. The pain never dulls, but it’s starting to get harder to remember the feel of my mother’s arms, the smile on my dad’s face.
I’d give anything to have one more moment with my father, and I hope Amara won’t come to regret staying away from hers.
Chapter 9
Noah
“The cleaners found this in your office,” Maddie says, holding up a gold earring. I take it from her and inspect it, recognizing it as Amara’s.
I close my fist around it and nod at her. “I happen to know whose that is. I’ll make sure it’s returned to her.”
Maddie stares at me and shakes her head. “Whose is it? I’ll contact the patient to let them know they can retrieve their item at the front desk.”
I bite down on my lip and look away. She hasn’t explicitly said anything, but I know she disapproved of the way I carried Amara into my office the other day. The last thing I want to do is cause more friction at work by admitting it’s hers.
“Let me guess,” she mutters. “Amara Astor.”
I shrug. “I’ll return it to her.”
Maddie crosses her arms, her stance defensive even though there’s clear worry in her eyes. “Dr. Grant, I wasn’t joking when I said that the Astors aren’t to be messed with. You might get away with messing with a patient, maybe… but you’ll never get away with messing with Harold Astor’s granddaughter. I see the way you look at her, and it’s a bad idea. It’s a really bad idea to get involved with her in any shape or form. Mr. Astor is incredibly protective of his granddaughter, and for some reason, you’re already on his radar. Make sure you stay on his good side. Getting with Amara Astor is career suicide.”
I grit my teeth, instantly annoyed. “I’m well aware and don’t appreciate your insinuations, Maddie.”
She looks away, stricken, and I instantly feel awful because she’s right. I have been flirting with Amara, and I do treat her different. I just can’t help myself.
“Just be careful, okay? A single rumor could destroy you. She’ll walk away unscathed, but you won’t.”
I nod and watch her walk away, a tinge of worry settling in my chest. I overstepped when I had Amara in my office a few days ago. The way I flirted with her was unacceptable, and it was unprofessional. It was unlike me, yet I did it without thinking.
I stare at the earring as I walk back into my office, dropping it onto my desk. It taunts me as it lays there, the sunlight making it sparkle, drawing my eye to it over and over again. What is it about Amara? I barely know her. Is it the unconventional way we met? Perhaps it’s just that she both intrigued and aroused me straight from the start. I haven’t stopped thinking about her since she first walked into my office.
I’m startled out of my thoughts when my office door opens. Not even Maddie walks in without knocking, and my surprise makes way for shock when a woman walks in.
She doesn’t even have to tell me who she is. It’s obvious. The same hair. The same eyes. I have no doubt that the woman in front of me is related to Amara. I’m guessing this is her mother, but I have no idea what brings her here.
“I’m sorry,” she says. “I should’ve knocked, shouldn’t I? I wasn’t thinking. I’m so sorry,” she adds, looking flustered.
I smile and shake my head. She looks nervous, the way many patients do when they walk in. “Don’t be. I wasn’t seeing a patient. Please, take a seat. How can I help you?”
She pauses, her tense shoulders relaxing slowly as she sits down in front of me. She offers me her hand, and I shake it. “Charlotte Astor.”
I nod. “Noah Grant.”
She leans back and smiles at me. “I apologize for dropping by unannounced. I was in the area and I’ve been wanting to meet you ever since my father first mentioned you. Walking in uninvited is more my father’s trademark move than it is mine, I assure you. We’re not all as insufferable as my dad is.”
She laughs, and in that moment, the resemblance to Amara is obvious. So that’s where she gets her smile. I look away, trying my hardest to recall my own mother’s smile and failing. What did her laughter sound like? I can’t remember, and the realization makes my heart tighten painfully.
“My father speaks highly of you, Noah. I understand you put yourself through medical school while providing for your younger sister? Your accomplishments are astonishing. It takes a lot to impress my father, and he seems intent on capitalizing on your talents. Rightfully so. With my family behind you, you’ll go further than you can even imagine, and I’m excited to see it happen. I recognize the potential my father sees in you.”
Her words leave me speechless, and it takes me a second to pull myself together. I clear my throat awkwardly and pull on my tie. “I only met your father briefly,” I tell her, and she smiles in understanding.
“I know.” She pulls an envelope out of her handbag and slides it toward me. “Yet somehow you managed to impress him enough to warrant a personal invitation to one of the most exclusive events of the year.”
I pick up the embossed envelope and stare at it in surprise. Is that actual gold leaf on there? I’ve never seen anything like it before.
“You’ll need to present this at the entrance. You’ll need a tux, too. Do you have one?”
I shake my head. “I’ll rent one.”
Charlotte smiles at me and shakes her head. “That won’t do. I don’t mean to put any pressure on you, but I know my father has plans for you. He’ll be introducing you to people that can transform your career, and I want you to fit right in.” She pulls a tape measure out of her bag and holds it up. “I’ll get one made for you.”
She rises to her feet and walks around my desk, her attitude as bold as Amara’s. Yet somehow, she reminds me of my own mother. Mom was also like that, commanding in a motherly and caring way.
“It really isn’t necessary,” I tell her, but she ignores me as she pulls me out of my seat. She’s as much of a whirlwind as Amara is.
“It is,” she says, her expression stern. “You don’t realize it yet, but my father sees something in you, something extraordinary, something you can’t even see yourself. You, my boy, are one of us now.”
I spread my arms, mindlessly obeying her as she takes my measurements. “Why me?”
She pauses and smiles. “My father is never wrong. He set his sights on you joining the Astor business, and for him to do so can only mean one thing: he believes you can further grow his empire. It’s rare for him to mentor someone, but he’s been speaking about you enough for me to know that is what he intends to do.”
Having Harold Astor as my mentor wouldn’t just transform my career. It would change my life. Doors I can’t even see would be wide open to me.
“I don’t understand,” I tell her honestly. “I’ve only ever spoken to your father once, and it was a brief exchange.”
I don’t want to get my hopes up. I’ve done it too often, only to crash and burn. I’d love to believe Charlotte, but life has taught me over and over again that everything has a cost — and more often than not, the price is too high to bear. Life has taken everything from me. I have nothing left to give.
Charlotte smiles at me and nods, almost as though she understands when I doubt she could. “My father has been wanting to get into biotechnology, and he’s been talking about expanding his medical investment assets for the past year. Then you walked in, with a stellar academic record and the ambition required to succeed. I can only assume that your CV flagged in my father’s system. He’s always looking for potential, and he seems to have found it in you.”
I stare at her in disbelief, a small seed of hope trying to take root deep within my cold, barren heart. I don’t let it.
“You don’t believe me,” she says, a knowing look in her eyes, “but you will.”
She takes a step back and glances at her phone, a smile on her face. “You’ll look great in a jet-black tux.”
I smile awkwardly, completely thrown by her sudden visit. She’s nothing like I expected. She seems kind and friendly. If not for her clothes, I’d never have guessed that she’s insanely rich. Amara is the same, and it’s one of those things that further intrigues me.
“I’ll get out of your hair,” she says, grinning. “I’ll have the suit delivered to your office.”
Her eyes fall to the photographs on my desk as she reaches for her bag, and she pauses. The expression in her eyes can only be described as haunting. Her fingertips trail over the edge of the silver frame, and when she looks back at me, devastation mars her face.
“The way you lost your parents… I’m sorry, Noah. No one will ever replace them, but now that you’re here I want you to know that you’re no longer alone.”
I nod, my heart constricting painfully. I didn’t even realize that those were words I was longing to hear, even if they’re only being said out of politeness.
Charlotte smiles at me, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. Instead, sadness engulfs her. She nods politely as she walks toward my door, and I inhale shakily as it closes behind her, memories of my parents fluttering through my minds — bits and pieces, fragments that I thought were lost for
ever.
For just a single moment, I could swear I smelled my mother’s perfume, and then it’s gone, fresh grief overwhelming me once more.
Chapter 10
Amara
I scroll through the search results for Noah Grant, frowning when I find next to nothing. He doesn’t have social media profiles, and the only things I can find about him relate to his work or research he’s done. In the few photos I can find of him, he looks blurry. Recognizable, but blurry.
How weird. These days it’s almost impossible for anyone to be this anonymous. I’ve certainly never struggled much with finding out more about someone. If anything, I can usually give the FBI a run for their money. Leia praises my stalker abilities endlessly, yet now that I need them, they’re letting me down.
I groan and drop my head to my desk. I want to know more about him. Specifically, I want to know if he’s got a girlfriend. A man like him… I can’t imagine him being single. But then again, would he flirt with me the way he did if he wasn’t single? He doesn’t seem like the type to do something like that.
“What are you doing?”
I sit up at the sound of my mother’s voice and slam my laptop closed. How long has she been standing there? I didn’t even hear the door open, that’s how immersed I was in my stalking of Dr. Grant. How embarrassing. I hope she didn’t see what I was up to.
Mom raises her brows and walks into my bedroom, her expression tense. I’m not sure what’s going on, but the way she looks at me instantly has me on edge. For years now Mom has been distant, even with me. She doesn’t let her emotions show. She rarely gets angry, and similarly, I haven’t seen her be happy either. I’m not even sure what that looks like anymore.
This I remember, though. The worry on her face hits me right in the chest. It’s an expression I haven’t seen in years, and it brings back memories I thought were lost. Falling off the swing on the porch and scraping my knee when I was ten. Cutting my fingers when I was trying to make a solar powered fan at age twelve. There weren’t many occasions, but every once in a while Mom’s frost would melt away, revealing the woman I used to know. The woman that’s staring at me right now.
Dr. Grant (Off-Limits) Page 4