for it, and if she let the conversation go any further, she’d have to explain to Tara about nearly being hit by a car and someone breaking into her home. Better to keep this conversation short. “Four o’clock. Today. I’ll be in my office until my first appointment arrives.”
The rubber soles of her shoes squeaked against the laminate flooring as she kept her stride even and unhurried. She had no reason to run. At least not from Tara.
The day passed like a minute, each patient taking all of her focus, deserving all of her energy. It was after three when she finally looked up and realized she hadn’t eaten anything since the banana she’d snatched on the way out the door that morning. Her stomach growled loudly as she marked another patient’s progress in his chart.
With a quick sweep of the exercise room, she confirmed that the only other occupants, a teenage girl working on a balance ball with one of Mandy’s physical therapy assistants, hadn’t heard her body’s retaliation for not feeding it. Stretching her back and shoulders as she stood, she headed for the front office to see if there were any leftovers to be had.
“Haven’t seen you all day.” Tara didn’t even look up from the computer where she navigated complex medical-charting screens that fed to area hospitals. “I thought you were avoiding me, boss.”
“I was.” Mandy laid the sarcasm on thick, and Tara glanced up just long enough to offer a smile.
“Hungry?”
“So much. Anything good back there?” Mandy peeked down the hall toward the office kitchen. It was a tiny room with a round table big enough for only two chairs. The counters boasted only a coffeemaker, sink and a toaster oven. Even the fridge looked as if it belonged in a dorm room rather than in an office.
As Mandy slipped toward the break room, Tara scrambled out from behind her desk, the wheels on her chair clacking against the tiled floor as she ran to catch Mandy. “So are you going to tell me what happened with the SEAL?”
Mandy frowned as she eyed a half-eaten salad and a tray of veggies left on the counter. A wilted piece of roast beef squished between two slices of bread sat beside the tray, the last in what had been a plate of sandwiches. The soggy bread and warm meat looked as appetizing as congealed gravy. Someone had ordered in, and she’d missed the invitation.
Rats. Now she was going to have to face the SEAL in question on an empty stomach.
“He has a name, you know.” Mandy plopped several pieces of limp lettuce onto a plate before digging her fork into it.
Tara nodded. “I do. But if the rest of his team had any intelligence, they would have nicknamed him Adorable.”
Mandy snorted so hard, she nearly choked on her bite. Quickly swallowing the offending mouthful, she was about to respond when the bell on the front door rang, and Tara dashed to man her post.
She’d just taken another bite when Tara called down the hallway, “Mandy? You have a visitor.” Her words were stilted, hesitant, as though she didn’t really want to say them. And they turned leaves of lettuce into gravel as Mandy swallowed.
Setting the plate on the table, she tiptoed down the hallway, poking her head around the corner just as the bell above the front door jingled again.
Luke appeared at the entrance. The setting sun behind him left him in shadow, but she could still feel the weight of his gaze as he maneuvered his new crutches through the door.
“Luke.” Her voice went higher than she’d expected, and she quickly cleared her throat. “You’re early.”
“Thought I’d bring back the chair you let me borrow.”
“Thanks.”
Suddenly someone else cleared his throat. It was low and tinged with mild annoyance, as if he’d been put out by her short exchange with Luke. Mandy didn’t really need to look at him to identify the visitor Tara had announced.
He was tall and broad, his dark hair still falling over his forehead, no matter how many times he pushed it out of the way. His smile still ticked up to one side, but where it had once been charming, now it was smarmy, turning her skin to gooseflesh at first glance. His eyes were deep brown, but they lacked any compassion or understanding of the part he’d played in her greatest regret. And now they shot from Mandy to Luke and back, filled with questions.
But she didn’t owe Gary Heusen any answers. In fact, she had plenty of questions of her own.
“What are you doing here, Gary?”
He held out a bouquet of roses. More white roses. More reminders that he’d once known her and claimed to care about her.
Her heart picked up speed, and a bead of sweat formed on the back of her neck, trailing below the collar of her shirt. She pressed a hand to the wall for support, hating her body’s reaction. Hating that she couldn’t control the way she responded to the memories and that the broken heart he’d left behind suddenly felt all too fresh.
“Luke, why don’t I go with you to get the wheelchair?” Tara’s voice broke the trance in the room, but Luke scowled at the idea.
“Are you okay, Doc?” While he clearly addressed Mandy, his eyes narrowed on Gary, a warning written across his features.
“I’m fine. Please, would you go with Tara? I can handle this.” She could. She would. Forcing her shoulders square and her back straight, she watched Luke follow Tara out of her office.
When the door closed, she turned on Gary in a hushed but firm voice. “What are you doing here?” she repeated. “I don’t want you here.”
Gary’s eyes looked in the direction of the path Luke had just taken. “So you’ve replaced me?”
Anger shot through her like a volcano, unbridled, untamable. “What are you talking—”
Two voices from down the hall suddenly joined them, and Mandy clamped her mouth closed, trying for a stabilizing breath. “We can’t do this here.”
“Then let’s go to your office.” He tucked the flowers back into the crook of his arm and held open the wooden door to the back hallway. She didn’t have any choice. She knew he wouldn’t be going anywhere until he said whatever he’d come here to say.
Marching down the hall, she led him to her office. The minute he was inside, she spun on him in a hushed growl. “You have two minutes. This better be good.”
The cool assurance on his face dimmed for a split second, before he amped up his toothy smile and held out the flowers. “You’re as pretty as ever, Dee.”
“Don’t call me that. I don’t like it,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest.
“You used to.”
No, I didn’t. But this was not the time to argue with him. “Get to the point. What do you want?”
He twisted the bouquet in his hand, showcasing his empty ring finger. “A lot’s been going on lately.”
The last time she’d run into him, Gary had been wearing a gaudy gold ring, a symbol of his marriage. The one he hadn’t bothered to tell her he was about to enter while
