Page 16 of Careless Whisper (Modern Vintage Romances #11)

Elias

S ex always clouds things. But good sex… great sex with Reggie, it made everything clear.

Since the day we saved Owen Hauser’s life so he could live another day to go through another trial and sentencing—I felt like Reggie and I had begun a new courtship dance.

We flirted…okay, so I flirted, and she rolled her eyes. I found ways to be with her, and she looked at me with suspicion.

I had no idea what the fuck I was doing. I had a plethora of problems with what went down in Boston, but that Reggie was not this Reggie—I was certain of it. The woman she’d become was careful, poised, brave, and so capable.

So, I’d done the thing I was damn good at. I compartmentalized. Dumped my thoughts about Boston Reggie where they wouldn’t surface and interfere with the relationship I was trying to have with Seattle Reggie.

But it was not going to be as easy as I hoped, I thought when I saw a message from Dr. Cabrera light up my computer screen: Want to move forward with Dr. Maren Loring. Let’s finalize interviews next week. Impressive CV.

I stared at the message, then leaned back in my chair, rubbing the bridge of my nose.

Fucking hell!

Maren here, with Reggie and me trying to get back together, would be a powder keg, especially since Maren was trying damn hard to get into my pants while I was trying to get into Reggie’s.

I’d hoped that this wouldn’t happen, but Maren had done everything she could to get herself in front of people at Harper Memorial.

Cabrera had been floating her name around for days now.

He loved her NIH portfolio, the metrics from her old program, and the citations.

She was good on paper. Polished, smart, relentless.

She also happened to be pushing hard for a private grant tied to a major foundation, and she was hoping my name and Harper Memorial’s attached to hers would get that grant—and Cabrera loved that setup as well.

On cue, my phone rang. I sighed when I saw it was Maren. I didn’t pick up. Instead, I sent a message saying I’d call her later.

Maren: I just heard from Harper Memorial. I’m coming to Seattle next week. I think I’m going to get the job!

I didn’t reply. I didn’t want her here, not with her wanting us to become a couple again, not with her professing love.

Maren: We should celebrate when I’m there. This is big!

Maren: Oh, and I heard from the Lancaster Foundation . They want to talk. Everything is working out!

Was it? I didn’t want to do the fucking trial or write the paper with Maren. I didn’t like the way she worked. I liked her as a friend, but as a colleague, I often found her unnecessarily aggressive and judgmental. And how would she react to Reggie? Probably the same way I had. She’d go after her.

I ran a hand through my hair.

Maren: Your father knows Faye Lancaster, and he said he’ll put in a word for both of us.

Could she stop texting? I thought irritably.

Maren: Elias, thank you for recommending me for the position at Harper.

I didn’t exactly recommend her, but since I set up her phone meetings with Cabrera, it definitely seemed like I did. What the hell was I thinking?

I wasn’t thinking. I just wanted to get her off my back and booked the meeting.

I didn’t for a minute think he’d want to hire her.

Sure, she’d be in my department, and I had the final say, but I’d thought Cabrera would have an issue with her personality, so I’d have an excuse.

I didn’t have any now. I’d have to hire Maren.

Fuck my life!

I’d have to tell Reggie that the old gang was getting back together.

Yeah, she’s going to be thrilled about that!

No, it would be fine, I rationalized. Reggie would be protected…as long as she didn’t kill another fucking patient.

I was in a piss poor mood by the time I found Reggie in the breakroom at the end of my shift. She was standing stiffly by the coffee machine.

“Hey, Gigi,” I breathed as I came to stand beside her, setting my phone on the counter next to the coffee machine.

She turned to look at me, and her beauty hit me… hard .

“You’ve got to stop calling me that,” she retorted tightly. “People will get the wrong idea.”

“Would it be the wrong idea?”

The coffee machine made an infernal sound and began to drip coffee into her cup that read: Being a nurse is easy. It’s like riding a bike. Except the bike is on fire. You’re on fire. Everything is on fire.

“Yes. And now that your fiancée is going to be working here, I don’t need trouble.”

Damn it! She already knew. Gossip traveled fast in a hospital.

“I wanted you to hear it from me. ”

She nodded once, staring at her coffee mug. “Thanks for letting me know.”

“I didn’t hire her. Cabrera did.”

“You’re the head of the department,” she pointed out just as the coffee machine stopped gurgling.

I released a weary sigh. “You’re right.”

She finally turned to look at me, coffee mug in hand. “Look, I get it. She’s qualified. I’m not going to make a scene about it.”

“I wasn’t suggesting you would?—”

“Then why did you want to be the one to tell me about it?” she demanded flatly.

My jaw clenched. “You have a history with Maren, and I wanted to?—”

“ You have a current situation with Maren,” she cut me off sharply. “You are an attending. She is an attending. I’ll do my job. Let me do my job.” She took a sip of coffee, and I caught a tremble in her hands. “ Please .”

“I have no reason to turn her down. We’re short, and like you said, she is qualified.”

I could stop this, but if I did, it would become a thing with her family and mine. Reggie would just have to suck it up and behave herself.

“And…Maren and I are only friends.”

She looked amused. “Why do you think I need to know that?”

“I don’t want a situation like we had in Boston.” It was harsh, yes, but it had to be said. I wouldn’t tolerate Reggie going off the deep end, not this time.

She laughed, but there was no humor in it. “I understand, Dr. Graham.”

“Look—”

“You can hire whomever you want, Dr. Graham. I’m just a nurse.”

She started to leave, but I caught her wrist—not tight, just enough to stop her. She looked down at my hand, then back up.

“Have dinner with me.”

My phone beeped, and Maren’s name flashed with a message that Reggie could read as clearly as I could: Interviews set for next week. Cabrera said just a formality. You’ve all but signed the contract. Thanks for hiring me, baby. I owe you big time!

I turned my phone face down.

She pulled her wrist away from my grasp. “I’m afraid I can’t have dinner with you, Dr. Graham. I have a rule against fucking men who are in a relationship.”

“For the last time, I’m not in a relationship with Maren,” I hissed.

“And for the last time, Dr. Graham, I’m not interested in having a relationship with you. Stop asking me out for dinner. Stop asking me out, period. I don’t want to have a situation here in Seattle like we did in Boston.”

I watched her walk away, annoyed with her for being difficult.

She was the one who had acted childishly and unprofessionally because she thought I was having an affair—she’d said as much to Maren and had tried her best to ruin my friend’s career.

Granted, that was five years ago, and Reggie had grown, as we all had—still, she had no business being affronted in this manner.

Well, fuck her! I didn’t beg women. I wasn’t going to start with Reggie. She wanted to play hard to get? She’d find out I didn’t play worth a damn.