Page 21 of Fire

What I had always imagined as some grand fairytale was starting to look more like a grim nightmare, and I was ashamed I’d let myself fall for the illusion.

As the months dragged on, Tanner’s admission that night in the kitchen started to feel more like a blessing and less like the tragedy I thought it was. I mean, I didn’t even fight to save my marriage. That had to say something about my feelings toward the man I pledged myself to, right?

I’m not even sure what Tanner’s high-priced lawyers spent so much time working out, seeing as his family had money, a prenup, and mine had none. Perhaps they were waiting for his father’s approval rating to go up. Maybe they were digging into my past, looking for something scathing to pin on me.

After a while, I even began to wonder if they were secretly trying to find Tanner a new bride to lessen the blow of the divorce, but that announcement never came, and eventually, the paperwork was signed.

As expected, he got everything. When I was offered a small amount of spousal support, I declined. I never want to be tied to him or his family again.

I want to leave it all in the past.

I have a feeling, though, that it won’t be that simple with the Price family.

It’s Monday morning, and I’m in the small kitchenette that’s stuffed in the back of our modern medical practice, trying to guzzle down a lukewarm cup of tea when Tanner strolls in. He gives me an appraising stare. We’ve agreed I can stay on as a physician as long as I want, with the understanding that I am no longer considered a partner.

Just a staff member.

That’s right. My ex is now my boss too.

Oh, and as expected, he’s pissed that I ditched him Saturday night. When I texted him late Saturday night after Hendrix left, I lied and told him I got a migraine and didn’t want to interrupt him while he was bonding with his college bros.

The fact that he didn’t respond was confirmation enough. You did not walk out on Tanner Price.

I almost considered telling him the truth, just to piss him off further. But this divorce thing is new, and I’ve got enough on my plate without having to deal with a jealous ex.

Besides, it’s not like I’ll ever see Hendrix again.

I didn’t even get his number. Oh my god, I didn’t get his number. Damn, why am I so upset about that?Probably because it was only the best sex of my life.

“Did you visit room four yet?” Tanner asks, eyeing me coolly.

No, I’m just chilling in here with my cup of tea while the mom and her sick baby wait for me. “Yup,” I answer instead.

“And?”

I do not appreciate his tone. It reminds me of this attending physician I worked with during my residency who always acted like the female residents were simply there to annoy him.

“And…she was positive for strep.”

“Did you check for the flu too?”

It takes every ounce of strength I possess not to roll my eyes. Or toss my drink in his stupid face. He does remember how I practically carried him through med school, right? “Of course.”

He’s about to say something else—something idiotic, no doubt—when one of our receptionists, Loren, knocks on the open door to announce herself. We both turn to see her sheepish smile spread. “Sorry to interrupt. Zara, you have a visitor.”

My brow raises. “Who is it?”

Her pale skin turns fire-engine red. “I, uh, forgot to catch his name.”

That’s not like her. She’s usually so organized, she puts Monica Gellar to shame. I watch her fiddle with her curly blonde hair, avoiding eye contact with a visibly annoyed Tanner.

“He’s super tall. Tattooed.Hot.” The emphasis on the last word, if possible, makes her cheeks flush even redder.

Shit.

What was I saying about never seeing him again?

Tanner’s head jerks to mine. “What the hell, Zara? Are you seeing someone already?”