Page 28 of Careless Whisper (Modern Vintage Romances #11)

Reggie

“ W hat on earth are you doing here?” I demanded when I saw Elias in the garden of my grandparents’ brownstone, sitting in a wrought iron chair.

The garden was tucked behind the house like a secret, shaded from the street by tall brick walls laced with ivy that had likely been growing since the Nixon administration.

The space was larger than you’d expect in the middle of a city and was impeccably kept—stone pavers that darkened to a rich slate in the rain, and raised beds trimmed in low boxwood hedges.

A narrow brick path curved through clusters of lavender, rosemary, and early-blooming hellebores—flowers chosen more for their history than flash. The hydrangeas in the corner were blooming like crazy—but they’d soon go dormant once winter set in.

In the center, a round iron café table sat beneath a weathered pergola wrapped in dormant wisteria, its woody vines coiled like memory.

It smelled like loamy soil and last season’s leaves, with a faint trace of coffee—probably Elias’s, resting on the table beside him in one of my grandmother’s porcelain cups, the kind she saved for special mornings and unexpected guests .

“I came to see you,” he informed me unhelpfully.

I was still raw from the gala two nights ago in Boston.

During our flight back, I’d given my grandparents a piece of my mind several times . Cutting Maren to size was obviously the entertainment G’Mum had promised.

I wasn’t petty by nature, and seeing Maren look like death warmed over when she found out I was the granddaughter of Faye Lancaster, the woman who controlled private funding for several trials around the world, had not brought me ease or peace.

But grandma was all about evening the scales, and she told me to buckle up because this was going to be a bumpy ride.

“You’re not going after Elias, are you?” I was incredulous

“Not personally, but we’re thinking of suing Harper Memorial for harassment,” Uncle Jason confirmed.

“No,” I protested.

Uncle Jason shrugged. “Probably won’t be necessary. From what I gleaned from the chairman of the board at Harper, they’re already investigating.”

Now, it was my turn to look like death warmed over. “Is…Is Elias losing his job?”

“Why do you care?” G’Mum asked with a glint in her eyes.

I threw my hands up in exasperation. “You’re all crazy. You know that?”

“And you’re just like us, darling,” Grandpa assured me.

I waved a hand to the door leading to the gate that would take him right out of the property. “You’ve seen me, now go away.”

He set the coffee cup down and smiled at me. “How are you doing? You’ve lost weight.”

I gaped at him. “Get the fuck out of my grandparents’ house.”

“Reggie, be nice to our guest,” I heard G’Mum call out from the upstairs window.

I looked up and glared at her. “What are you trying to do, G’Mum?”

“I am trying to get you out of your wallowing,” G’Mum explained. “Now, Dr. Graham, you be nice to our Reggie, or I’m going to cut your pecker off.”

With that, she slammed the window shut, and my shoulders slumped. “My whole family is nuts.”

“I like them.” Elias rose and came to me. He put his hands on my shoulders. “Harper Memorial would like you to reconsider your resignation and come back to work at your convenience.”

I liked having his hands on me—a bit too much, so I shrugged them off. “Not coming back, ever . I’m done.”

“You want to find a job in New York?” His lips tightened as his gaze sharpened

“No, I’m done with nursing. I’m done with hospitals. Every time I get ahead you and your fiancée fuck with me. It’s…I’m tired.”

His lips curled into a smirk, but his eyes blazed with irritation. “First things first, stop calling Maren my fiancée. I’ve never asked a woman to marry me in my fucking life. I came close once, but then I found out she fucking killed a patient, and I had to?—”

I shoved him hard. “Oh no, no you don’t.”

“I’m in love with you,” he said belligerently, his eyes boring into mine.

“Go fuck yourself.” I pushed him again. He let me.

“How dare you show up after all the crap you’ve put me through and pull this stunt? Oh, now you found out I’m a Lancaster, you’re thinking?—”

“I’m a Graham; I don’t give a shit about your last name,” he cut me off cockily. Then he sobered. “I’m sorry, baby, for everything, for Boston, for not protecting you from Maren, for…what I did.”

“Well, gee, he said he’s sorry,” I muttered sarcastically. “Now, what? I should get on my knees and suck you off?”

He stepped closer. “I believed the wrong person. Twice . I didn’t trust you. I should have. I let you take the fall because it was easier than facing what Maren had become. I’m so sorry, Gigi.”

“You know what you can do with your apology?”

“I’m sure you want me to stick it where the sun doesn’t shine, Gigi, but that’s not the kind of ass play I enjoy.”

I wanted to crack his face with my hand. I was not a violent person, but I wanted to do it. How dare he make a joke when I was…when I was…so scared that I’d believe him and fall for his bullshit again?

“For a year in Boston, you made sure I knew we were casual, and now I’m expected to believe you wanted to marry me then?” He was about to answer, but I held my hand up. “That was a fucking rhetorical question. Then, in Seattle, right when we were…when I thought…”

“I wanted it too, Gigi.” There was a wealth of remorse in his eyes. “That time in the on-call room…that was when I knew I’d never gotten over you, I never would. I didn’t care what happened, I wanted you.”

I gave him a withering look, one G’Mum would be proud of. “So, you wanted me despite thinking I was a fuck up as a nurse?”

“You are not a fuck up as a nurse. I was so damn proud of how you handled yourself. I was in awe and?—”

“So much awe that you went right ahead and hired that bitch and let her make my life a living hell. I all but had a nervous breakdown, Eli,” I shouted.

“I’ve been holed up here carrying a cashmere throw like a security blanket and eating warm oatmeal with blueberries and watching crap movies with Uncle Jason, recovering from what you and that fiancée of yours put me through. ”

He huffed out a sharp breath. “She. Is. Not. My. Fucking. Fiancée.”

“Like I care what she is to you.” I waved a hand and turned my back to him.

“I love you, Gigi,” he murmured from behind me. “I think I always have.”

I laughed once, sharp and bitter. “You let me down again and again. You treated me like dirt again and again. You don’t do that to people you love, Elias.

You do that to people you hate. I don’t know why I warrant your disdain”—I swung around to face him—“but I don’t deserve it.

Remember when you started at Harper Memorial, you wanted me out of your OR? You got your wish.”

“Careful what you wish for,” he breathed and stroked a finger down my cheek.

My lungs forgot how to work for a moment. “I hate you,” I finally managed to say.

He flinched but smiled. “I will make this right.”

I pressed my lips together and shook my head. Then, I let out a long breath. “Then do that. Make it right. But not for me—for yourself. Because I’m done fighting to be seen.”

I left him there with G’Mum’s special guest coffee cup.

She was lucky I didn’t break the damn thing, I told myself as I marched into the sunroom where G’Mum was drinking orange juice while she read The Times , wrapped in a silk kimono.

Grandpa was swiping away at his tablet with ferocious intensity—he was probably playing Angry Birds.

“You look like someone who just dumped a banker,” G’Mum remarked.

“A surgeon.”

Grandpa grunted. “That’s the same thing.”

I flopped on a chair next to my grandma. “I have made a decision about the future.”

The idea had been percolating for the past few days—since before the Boston debacle. After, it just helped me solidify my plans.

My grandparents waited for me to reveal all.

“I’m going to San Miguel de Allende to run the clinic.”

G’Mum nodded like she was expecting this, but Grandpa grimaced. “What?”

“I think I can make a difference and?—"

“I just…I know how much you like being a surgical nurse.” Grandpa set his tablet down on the table. “I’m annoyed that these fuckers are driving you away from that.”

I lifted a shoulder and let it drop. “I need to do work that matters. Something that isn’t about politics or performance reports or people looking at me like I’m a liability.”

“You know, Stephen and I are going on vacation in a couple of weeks. You could come to the Amalfi Coast with us instead,” G’Mum offered brightly. “Sun, spritzes, beautiful Italian men?—”

“I’ve been on vacation for months now,” I interjected. “I need to start using my brain again before it goes completely mushy.”

G’Mum tipped her chin in acknowledgment.

“I need to find out who I am without all this pain dragging behind me,” I continued in explanation.

G’Mum took my hand in hers. “You are steel, wrapped in sunlight, my darling. And I love you very much.”