gala is tomorrow night I’ll leave this dress with you.”
“Thanks, Sophie.” And she truly did mean it. She would be lost without her stepmother. This whole thing was so out of her league.
Sophie kissed her cheek. “Any time.”
Lana walked her out and then once the door was shut she sank down in her office chair, trying not to let this farce of a marriage overwhelm her.
Too late.
There was a knock and, before she could say Don’t come in, Andrew came barging in. She startled at seeing him. In the past week she’d seen him in the halls when he wasn’t training Jack, but she’d kept her nose down in whatever she was doing to ignore him and avoid him. In her office there was no escaping him. She was trapped. He took one look at her and he frowned.
“What’s wrong?” he asked as he shut the door.
“Nothing.”
“You looked like you were about explode.” He crossed his arms, his eyes narrowing as he assessed her.
Because I am.
“I’m fine. Just busy. What can I do for you?”
“I have a patient I need a consult on.”
She was taken aback. Andrew always went to her father when it came to consults. Never her. Which was a slap in the face. Her father might be Chief of Surgery but she was Head of Ortho. Her father was so busy with administration he didn’t clock as many hours in the operating room any more. She was clocking more hours, but other surgeons rarely sought her opinion. “Is my father unavailable?”
“No, but I’d like your opinion.”
“Why?” she asked cautiously.
“Why not?” He gave her a questioning look. “Why are you so uncomfortable about this?”
“I’m not uncomfortable.”
His eyes narrowed. “You totally are.”
“You’ve never wanted my opinion on your patients before... You always went to my father.”
“I never saw you operate before and when I observed you for that femur repair and how you did that surgery I was impressed.”
“How gracious of you to notice.”
Andrew rolled his eyes. “Fine. I want your opinion because it would look good. You’ve been distant this past week; people are noticing. Is that what you wanted to hear?”
“Fine.” She grinned sweetly at him. “I just wanted the truth.”
“You’re so infuriating! I told you the truth. You’re an impressive surgeon.”
“If I’m so impressive why don’t you let me look at your shoulder? You seem to roll it or wince a lot. Does it bother you?”
That caught him off guard. Instead of annoyance, a cold firmness set in his jaw. The twinkle went out of his eyes. “I’m fine. A little tension, nothing a good massage won’t fix.”
“I think...”
“I said I’m fine,” he snapped and she knew that she was pushing him too far.
“Let’s go see your patient,” she said, exasperated.
Andrew nodded, but wouldn’t look her in the eye. She felt bad for pushing him, but she couldn’t help but wonder why he was so sensitive about his shoulder. It could be a simple fix if it was injured. That was if it was more than a little tension. It might not even require surgery but physiotherapy, but it was as if he’d given up on it.
Can’t you relate?
Hadn’t she given up on a lot of things? Things that she really didn’t want to discuss because they too were a sore spot. It wasn’t any of her business, because she didn’t want people prying into her life. After David she was tired of being under the microscope and it was apparent by the way Andrew threw up a wall so fast that he didn’t want her to pry into his life either.
“So what seems to be the problem?” Lana asked as they walked side by side down the hall. She wanted to change the subject. “What do you need me to look at?”
“The patient came in with what appeared to be a simple shoulder dislocation, but the X-rays are unclear. I think he’ll need surgery because if I try to pop that shoulder back into the socket I think it’s just going to pop right back out or it’ll puncture his lung if I try to put it back into place manually.”
“Did he say how he did it?”
“Golfing,” Andrew remarked. “He’s a tourist. He’s also French.”
“Does he speak English?”
Andrew grinned and waggled his eyebrows playfully. “Well, he did until we gave him sedation. He’s been saying a bunch of interesting things now.”
Lana groaned. No wonder he hadn’t asked her father to do this.
Andrew wanted to torture her. As soon as they entered the room the patient grinned at her.
“Monsieur, Je vous presenté mon collègue, le Dr Haole, voir votre bras.”
The patient just grinned. “Ah, quelle belle femme!”
“What did he say?” Lana asked under her breath.
“He said what a beautiful woman.”
“Clearly he’s drugged up,” she muttered as she pulled on a trauma gown and gloves so she could inspect the patient more closely.
“Why would you imply that?” Andrew asked, puzzled.
“Imply what?” she said, distracted.
“That the compliment really isn’t a compliment because the patient is drugged up. You’re very attractive, Lana, and, sedated or not, I believe he’s speaking the truth. You are very beautiful.”
Andrew’s declaration made her heart skip a beat. Warmth flooded her cheeks.
“Lana, you’re beautiful. Sexy. And we look good together. We’ll be a power couple. Why do we need love? Isn’t that enough?”
Hollow compliments. That’s all David ever paid her.
Andrew was just a playboy. It was just probably part of the act of seduction.
She cleared her throat. “Get him to lift his arm, would you?”
* * *
Andrew didn’t know why she’d brushed off their patient’s compliment, as if only a sedated man would find her attractive. The notion was preposterous.
Lana was attractive.
Which was why the proposition of entering into
