“You don’t think I’m too much?” I used air quotes because I’d been told to shut my mouth a couple times.
He shook his head. “Nothing I can’t handle.”
Jesus Christ, did my dad set me up with the most perfect guy ever? “Okay, I’ve really got to go.” I kicked the sheets back and hopped out of bed. “Supposed to have brunch with my mama.” I tapped the screen to check the time. “Not gonna have time to change. Can I use your bathroom?”
“Make yourself at home.”
I dashed into the bathroom and washed my face. I grabbed his toothbrush and used that too.
He passed in the mirror to use the toilet and didn’t blink an eye even though he made eye contact with me in the mirror. Didn’t care at all.
He had a comb on the counter, so I used that to brush out my hair and make myself as presentable as possible.
I pulled on my dress and heels then headed to the front door.
In just his boxers, he walked me to the door, still sleepy as if he might go back to bed after I left. “Got plans tonight?”
“I’m going out with my friends.”
“Can I be your last stop for the night?”
I should say no because this was moving so fast, but I didn’t. Couldn’t do it. “Sure.”
He grabbed my ass and gave it a manly squeeze as he kissed me goodbye.
Ooh…I liked that.
I liked it when he grabbed my ass like it was his.
He pulled away, gave me a subtle smile, and watched me walk out.
“Sorry I’m late.” I fell into the chair across from her on the outside patio, where the white tablecloth already held a pitcher of mimosas and a basket of pastries. Mom was in a summer dress and heels, her hair curled, looking stunning as always. “Traffic was crazy.”
“But you walked here.”
“I mean foot traffic.” I put the linen napkin over my lap and helped myself to the pitcher. “Ooh, this looks good.” I took off my sunglasses and set them on the tablecloth before I grabbed the menu. “I’m starving.”
Mom just stared at me.
“What are you getting?”
She leaned over the table, her elbows on the surface, and continued to regard me.
Shit. Shit. Shit. “I think I’m gonna get the waffle with fruit. Strawberry, maybe?”
“Daisy.”
Fuck, I’d been caught.
“How’s Atlas?”
“How should I know?” I blurted as I dropped the menu.
Now my mom had that stupid grin on her face. You know what I’m talking about. The one where your mom basically knows every little thing you’ve done like a goddamn detective. “Well, you’re doing the walk of shame right now.”
“Oh my god, I hate that phrase. I call it the victory parade.”
Mom chuckled. “I like that better.”
I looked at the menu again. “Or maybe I’ll get the French toast—”
“Nope. Answer the question.”
“Ma, you’re prodding.”
“You tell me everything. So, why don’t you tell me what happened with Atlas?”
I lowered the menu again and dropped my shoulders, unsure what to say.
She waited, an expectant look on her face.
“Because…” My head rolled back, and I closed my eyes. “Mom, I really like him.”
The smile she wore was unforgettable.
“He’s so hot, Jesus Christ.” I started to fan myself. “And he’s so confident but doesn’t take himself seriously at the same time. He’s easygoing and he just… I don’t know. I’m scared. I’ve got it bad already. I’m trying to play it cool but he’s making it really hard to do that.”
“Then don’t play it cool.”
“I just don’t want this to move too fast, and it’s already on the freakin’ Autobahn.”
“Why is that a bad thing?”
“I don’t know… Mason was only a little over a year ago. I’m not sure if I’m ready to give my heart to someone again.”
“Well, I have some bad news for you, sweetheart. I think you already have.”
I released a long sigh. “Yeah…I think so too.”
“I knew your father was the man I wanted to be my husband pretty much instantly. Your brothers felt the same way about Sicily and Emerson. We just all took a really long time to get to that place, but you guys aren’t. And I think that’s great. Why waste time?”
I watched the people walk by on the street, New Yorkers living their busy lives.
Mom continued to study me.
“What?” I turned back to her.
“You said you were just going to have fun until your husband showed up. Well, I think he might be here.”
When I walked in the door, Bear ran right to me, already having a toy in his mouth.
“Hey, boy.” I got on my knees and played with him for a bit, chuckling when he sat on my lap even though he probably weighed as much as I did. I gave him a good scratch behind his ears before I got up again.
Dad had just set the table. “Hey, sweetheart.”
“Hey, Dad. What’s on the menu?”
“Halibut.”
“Cool.” I hugged my mom then sat down to join them.
We made small talk, discussed work and other things, talked about our next trip to the cabin.
“How about next weekend?” Dad asked.
“I have a tournament in Vegas, actually. I’ll be gone all weekend.”
“What about the following weekend?”
“I think I’m free.”
“I’ll check in with Dex. He’s been doing surgeries on Saturdays again lately, so we’ll see if he has the availability.”
“Oh, I didn’t know that.”
“He got hit with a lot more patients, so he didn’t have a choice,” Dad said with a tone of pride. Dex always had a choice. He could send them to another surgeon or put them farther down the calendar, but he didn’t. “How are your patients?”
“Good. I just had a patient discharged. Ended up having a hernia that nobody caught. It was ridiculous.”
“How did you catch it?” Dad asked between bites.
“Just an old-fashioned physical exam.” I gave a pronounced shrug. “When he had his scans, I guess the tear was so small it wasn’t visible, but then got worse afterward and people just ignored his symptoms. When I applied pressure, he nearly collapsed on the floor he was in so much pain. He even had a hernia in his scrotum.”
“How long was he living with this?”
“Like six months.”
He shook his head in disappointment. “Unacceptable.”
“I know.”
Mom was quiet during these conversations, but she seemed content just to listen to us.
“How are things with you?” he asked. “Working a lot?”
I knew Mom would never tell him anything I said about Atlas, and he would probably never ask outright on his own, so I didn’t bring it up. “Pretty much. That’s my life. I went out with my friends last night and had a good time. Met the lead singer of the Conundrum. He invited us to party with him, so we went.” I pulled out my phone and showed pictures.
My dad looked even though he didn’t listen to modern music. “I like it when you wear purple. It’s a pretty color on you.”
“Thanks.”
Mom eventually excused herself to do the dishes then watch TV in their room, and Dad and I brought out the chessboard. He’d taught me to play when I was little, and we’d had our games ever since. There were pictures of us playing together throughout the years in his office. I started off as a little girl and then progressed into a young woman. There was a picture of the two of us when I won the United States Chess Championship senior year in high school. Sometimes I felt like my father pushed me more because I was a woman and he knew I had to jump higher, work harder, be smarter than everyone around me so no one could take advantage of me.
It was his move, so he stared at the board as he considered his play, his beer on the tabl
e beside him. His eyes shifted back and forth as he looked at his pieces, examining his pawn and his queen.
“So…I really like Atlas.”
His eyes immediately flicked up and met mine.
“We’ve gone out a couple times.” It was kinda weird to talk about it with him, but I decided to share since he was the one who had suggested the match.
Dad stared, like he didn’t know what to say.
“He’s really smart but not an ass about it. I like that.”
He ignored the board altogether and just listened to me.
“He keeps up with me, which is a nice change. Anytime I have something to say, he fires back right away. It can make us butt heads sometimes, but he’s never annoyed when I say what I think or fight for my opinion. He always respects my views, which is nice. And at work, he’s all business, and he advocates for our patients harder than anyone else. The other week, he ripped into Anthony because he was a bit complacent over the holiday weekend…and I like that about him. He’s tough. But he needs to be tough.” There were other reasons I liked him, but I wasn’t going to share those points, not even with my mom. He treated me the way I wanted to be treated by a man, as equals across the table but as the leader in the bedroom. He wasn’t the least bit intimidated by me, and what other men found annoying, he found amusing.
Dad gave a slight nod. “I’m glad you like him—because I think he’s good enough for you.”
“Dad…”
“I want you to be with someone like your brothers, someone who understands your brilliance and can relate to it. That’s what you need, Daisy. You need a man with his own ambitions, but someone who can push you to pursue your ambitions. If not, you’ll just have a man who’s constantly in your shadow.”
“Intelligence isn’t everything…”
“It’s what you do with your intelligence that matters. Look what he’s doing with his. That’s a huge testament to his character.”
“I agree.”
“Well, I’m glad you’ve given him a chance.”
“Yeah.”
He looked down and made his move.
“Do you know why he got divorced?” I moved my piece, having already known where I was going to put it before he even made his move.
“No.”
“I asked him about it, but it’s a touchy subject.”
“In his defense, divorce is the second most stressful life event, only after losing a loved one.”
“I understand that. I just… I guess it’s hard for me to believe that his wife would ever let him go.”
“Maybe she didn’t. Maybe he left.”
“I don’t know.”
“But it doesn’t matter. That’s his past and has nothing to do with you. Just because a past marriage failed doesn’t mean his next will too.”
“I know that. The divorce doesn’t really bother me. But I guess I’d like to know why it happened.”
Dad made his move. “Respect his privacy.”
“Of course. I would never ask him again. Maybe he’ll tell me on his own, but I don’t think he will. He’s been divorced for a couple years, but it’s obvious that it still really bothers him. You would think in that amount of time he would be over it.”
“When I met your mother, she wanted something serious, but I was newly divorced and determined to remain single for the rest of my life. But life had other plans, and once I let her in, I let go of my divorce. It was as if it never happened. Give him time. His happiness will make him forget his heartbreak.”
“Yeah…”
16
Atlas
“So, are you going to tell me about this lady friend of yours?” Matthew sat across from me at the bar, wearing his Yankees baseball cap and his t-shirt. “She’s gotta be smokin’ because Lydia was fiiiiine and you weren’t interested.”
I tried to hide my smile with the drink I took. “Oh, she’s bangin’.”
He gave me a thumbs-up. “Slept with her?”
An annoyed look came over my features.
“What?” he asked. “You told me about Lydia and everyone before Lydia.”
“Because you dragged it out of me.”
“Well, I can drag this out of you, or you can just tell me.”
“You aren’t dragging this one outta me.”
“Ooh, my boy is in love.”
“I’ve definitely got it bad…I’ll say that much.”
He interlocked his fingers behind his head as he stared at me, giving me a slight look of approval. “Never thought this day would come. You’re ready to get back on the horse.”
“Not really. She kinda just happened…and then more shit happened…and now here I am. It was like a forest fire. It started out of nowhere, and before I knew it, I was surrounded by flames…and that was when I realized I was on fire.”
“My boy is a poet too.”
“Shut the hell up,” I said with a chuckle. “It’s the best way I can describe it. Wasn’t looking for anything. Didn’t even like her. And then…I liked her.”
“You didn’t like her?”
“When I started at the clinic, she was a physician there. Basically wanted my job and was pissed that the former director did an outside hire. Kinda took her job. Didn’t get along for a while.”
“A hot doctor. That’s pretty cool.”
“Yeah, she’s really smart. Might be smarter than me.”
“You got a picture?”
I shook my head. “Actually, I don’t. But I wouldn’t show you anyway.”
“Oh, come on. I’m gonna see her when I meet her.”
“And you better not say something stupid.”
“Whoa, so I am going to meet her?”
I shrugged. “Probably.”
“So, this is a relationship, then.”
I shrugged again. “We’re exclusive.”
“Wow, that’s crazy. Ever since I’ve known you, you’ve been heartless. And now here you are, pretty much settled down.”
“I wouldn’t put it like that.” I took another drink before I set the empty glass on the table. “My feelings about the future haven’t changed. But when it happened with her, I couldn’t say no. I couldn’t risk losing her, not when…” I tried to think of the words to describe it, but nothing suitable came to mind. “Not when I feel this way about her.”
Matthew dropped the jokes and cradled his drink to his chest. “If that’s the case, you’re going to have to tell her.”
I dropped my gaze. “Yeah…I know.” It’d been on my mind a lot recently because I knew this relationship was serious the moment I kissed her, the moment we were together. Wasn’t a fling. Wasn’t a mistake. It was the real deal. “I will. I’ve just…been putting it off as long as I can.”
“Why?”
“Because I know what she’ll say.”
I checked her vitals, her airway, and her lab work.
She was only in her forties, but she’d been inexplicably hit with an aggressive cancer.
Cancer fucking sucked.
Sometimes it was limited, like it somehow broke through a barrier and wound up in a place where it shouldn’t be. With appropriate treatment, it was returned to where it belonged, as a healthy cell. But when this happened…it was like a serial killer. It wasn’t going to stop until it claimed the body.
She stared at me as I listened to her lungs, her face gray like she was thirty years older than her true age.
I pulled the stethoscope out of my ears and stepped back. “I’m not seeing a change yet.”
“I don’t feel a change either.”
“It’s still early. Give it time.” It was hard to stand there and give hope, especially when I had no idea what would happen.
Her eyes dropped. “You hear about these things happening to other people, but you never think it’s going to happen to you.” She had three young children, but she didn’t want them to visit her in the hospital, so they never came. Her husband came by from time to time, but he had to work longer hours to make
up for her loss of income.
I had other patients to monitor, but I sat on the stool at her bedside. “Yeah, I know how that is.”
“You do?”
I nodded. “My parents and sister came from London to visit me a few years ago. Took the subway into Manhattan…and all died in a mass shooting.”
Stunned, she just stared, like she didn’t know what else to do.
“Never thought that would happen to me. If I’d just left work and picked them up…they’d still be here. I think about that a lot, pretty much every night before I go to sleep.”
Her hand reached for mine. “I’m so sorry, Dr. Beaumont.”
I gave a slight smile and squeezed her hand, floored that she comforted me when she was the one fighting for her life. “Thank you.”
Dr. Hamilton sat at his station on the floor, in his blue scrubs, his lunch in containers next to him. His charts were stacked beside him, and he made his notes in the computer system.
I walked over and took the computer next to him, setting down my charts.
Dr. Hamilton finished what he was doing before he addressed me. “No significant changes.”
“Same.”
He must have recognized the tone in my voice because he turned to look at me.
I answered his unspoken question. “Just a hard day.”
“It’s early, Atlas. I’m confident we will see results. I just hope we see results in all our patients instead of a few.”
“Yeah.”
Just the way my father used to, he reached his hand up and gripped my shoulder, giving me a squeeze before he turned back to his computer. “It’s a hard job…but someone’s gotta do it.”
“I can’t believe you’ve been doing this so long.”
He typed on the computer again, doing two things at once. “I couldn’t imagine doing anything else with my life. There are days it hurts. And there are days it hurts more. But people come from all over the world to see me because I provide the best care possible. It gives me a purpose, gives my life meaning beyond myself and my family.”
“Yeah.”
“Now that I’m approaching the last fifteen years of my career, I worry what will happen when I’m gone. Who will take care of the patients who need care? Who will prolong their lives so they can spend more time with their families? I always hoped that one of my children would be interested in my professional specialty, so they could take care of the company when I’m gone, continue on with the work I prepared them for. But…that never happened. They’ve watched me bear the turmoil their entire lives. That’s probably why.”
The Girl Who Doesn't Quit (Soulless Book 12) Page 15