Chapter 4
Jack
When I saw Laine in that red dress, my dick stood up at full attention. I haven’t seen her in months. She’s still beautiful, and my dick misses her, but there’s no way I’m going there again. Not after what she did to me.
I know my friends love her and think I need to get past what happened, that Laine was only doing her job and dealing with the loss of her friend. But she didn’t talk to me about what she was doing. She didn’t consider my perspective at all. I didn’t perform the surgery that killed her friend Stacy. She had been my patient, but I was concerned that I was seeing her too often. When she wanted more liposuction, I turned her down and recommended she see a therapist for body dysmorphic disorder—plastic surgery addiction. She thanked me and then went on to find someone else to perform the surgery. Unfortunately, she succeeded, and she died from the complications.
And then, Laine used her story to write a huge exposé about plastic surgery. It caused the licensing board to open a case, and they dug into all my medical records and dragged me in front of a tribunal to defend several of my medical decisions. I could have lost my license because of her.
Sitting next to Laine all night and making nice would have been impossible. I don’t want to hear anything she has to say, and I can’t drink if I’m going to perform surgery on Abdo tomorrow, so I had to get away. Running into Cordelia Johns was just luck, but she was quick to offer me her brother’s seat when she learned I didn’t have a date.
“What a delightful surprise to see you here,” she says in her slight British accent as we sit down. “You’re quite the celebrity these days.”
I shake my head. “What are you doing here?”
“My mom is on the committee, so we’re all here to support her.”
I look over and see her father, Charles, across the table. He’s the chief medical officer for Mercy Hospital. “Welcome back,” he says with a nod. “The hospital is all buzzing about your early return from Sudan.”
“It was pretty hairy. But I didn’t want to leave.”
“I hear you have a new project, though,” Cordelia says.
I nod and offer her my most blinding smile. “I’m glad I ran into you. I was going to find you this week anyway to see if you can help me out.”
Cordelia has a crush on me, and I’m shameless to use it for Abdo’s sake. But I think it’s worth it. Over dinner, I explain the boy’s situation and care so far, and we discuss the long road ahead of him. “Would you be willing to step in as his pediatrician?” I finally ask her.
“It’s going to take more than me, but I can do that.”
I squeeze her hand. “I appreciate it. He’s not covered by BC healthcare yet, but I’ve spoken with the Foreign Affairs Office, and he will be soon.”
Cordelia nods. “Okay. He’s still in the ICU?”
“Yes. He’s still in a medical coma and doesn’t even know he’s no longer in Sudan.”
“This boy is going to need a big medical team.”
“I agree. Maybe once you evaluate him, we can come up with the group we need.”
Cordelia smiles. Her hand moves to my thigh.
There’s a tap on my shoulder, and I look up to find Paisley. “Do you have a minute?” she asks.
I nod. “Of course.”
She turns and walks to the back of the room. I excuse myself and follow her.
“What are you doing?” she snaps when we find a quiet corner.
“What do you mean?”
“I sat you next to Laine, and imagine my surprise when some guy named Kent is in your seat and you’re in his.”
“I’m sorry. He’s here with Cordelia Johns, his sister, and I needed to talk to her about Abdo. She’s a pediatrician.”
“Oh,” Paisley’s face softens. “We all thought you traded seats because you were sitting next to Laine.”
“I’d be lying if I said that wasn’t part of the reason I decided to talk to Cordelia tonight and not sometime next week.”
“Jackson Drake!” she whisper-yells. “Everyone makes mistakes. Why won’t you talk to her about this?”
If she wasn’t so mad, I’d tell her my given name is Johnathan. “I didn’t make a mistake,” I growl.
“Really? You’re God now?” She’s poking me in the chest. “I think all the women you bring to our get-togethers are mistakes.”
“What are you talking about?”
“They don’t have one brain cell between them.”
“Look, I appreciate that Laine may want to apologize for what she did to me, but frankly, that should have happened ages ago. We’ve been broken up for months. I’m not interested in getting back together. She made a choice, and the choice wasn’t me.”
Paisley’s shoulders fall. “I never thought you’d turn out to be a giant ass.”
She marches off, and I’m left to look at her back. I look over and see Davis glaring at me. Whatever . They don’t get it. They didn’t have to put up with all the repercussions her silly article caused me. I almost wasn’t able to go to Sudan. They just went about their business and didn’t look back while I was sweating bullets for months.
I take a deep breath and decide I’m done with this night. I don’t want to be here. Turning on my heel, I walk out of the gala and call a rideshare to take me over to the hospital. Abdo needs to be checked on.
On the ride, I text Cordelia to let her know I’ve gone to the hospital.
Cordelia: You’re lucky that a handsome gentleman has offered to fill your spot. I’ll see you at Abdo’s bedside Monday morning at 7 a.m.
Me: See you then. Have fun tonight.
Cordelia: It would have been more fun with you.
I don’t even respond. I’m not interested in Cordelia. All my friends have dated staff from the hospital, but it’s not appealing to me. I won’t pee where I eat. Plus, I’ve always found that talking about nothing but medicine gets very boring, so I prefer dating women who do something else.
When the car drops me off, I undo my tie and walk into the ICU. Abdo is still under sedation, but his color is good. I pull his chart and review it. His vitals are getting stronger every day. Hopefully, with Cordelia’s help, I can start to wake him.
“Wow, Dr. Drake, you’re pretty dressed up for Saturday-night rounds,” says a voice from the doorway. Wendy Thomas is the head night nurse in the ICU.
“I went to a fundraiser and thought I’d stop by before heading home.”
“It’s only ten o’clock. Do you turn into an ogre at eleven?”
I chuckle. “No. But Abdo’s been on my mind.”
“He’s doing better than I expected, given his situation.” Wendy’s voice softens. “You’ve saved his life. I hope we don’t send him back to Sudan.”
“I don’t think that’s an option. He doesn’t have any family there.” I make a few notes in his chart.
“Dr. Rushton mentioned that there’s a long list of people offering to help care for him, thanks to the publicity he’s gotten.”
I nod. I’m sure he’s still not happy with the amount of money the hospital hasn’t been able to bill for yet.
“I hope we can accommodate them,” I tell her.
“Dr. Rushton also mentioned that you’d gotten several marriage proposals.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m less interested in accommodating those. Have a good night, Wendy. And if something happens, be sure to call me.”
“I will.” She hums the wedding march as she continues down the hall. Nurses always like to play matchmaker. They always have a friend or a sister.
I sit down for a few minutes with Abdo. Poor kid is all alone, and his world is going to be rocked—not in a good way—when he wakes up. I wrack my brain, trying to figure out how to make it easier.
A little while later, I walk back to my apartment in the rain. I love winter in Vancouver. The rain beats snow, and we have a nice change of seasons here.
When I evacuated Abdo from Sudan, all I could focus on was finishing his surgery and making sure he was going to survive. I didn’t consider what would happen after.
Despite being in Sudan for only a couple months, I really liked the culture and how family-oriented their society seems to be. Whoever takes Abdo in should be sure to introduce him to Sudanese culture. I make a mental note to look up the community here in town and see if there’s someone who could be on his care team. He’ll need that when he’s up and around.
I change clothes when I get home, and once my head hits the pillow, I’m out. I still haven’t fully reoriented to this time zone, I don’t think. I dream about Laine and what we might have been. She was the first woman I thought I wanted it all with. But like every other woman in my life, now she’s gone.
After spending the day at the hospital with Abdo, I drive over to my dad’s for dinner on Sunday evening. He invited me, and I didn’t have an excuse, so here I am. But when I arrive, there’s an unfamiliar car in my parking spot. It’s a bright red, sporty Mercedes convertible, which is far too carefree for my dad or any of his friends. He knew I was coming. I wonder who’s at the house. When I let myself in, I hear a woman’s laugh.
Dad’s housekeeper and chef, Ellen Gao, comes over and gives me a hug before I’ve even closed the door. “I’ve missed you!” she says.
“Dinner smells fantastic. What are you making?”
She smiles proudly. “We have a mushroom soup starter, followed by a butternut squash risotto with leeks and spinach.”
“Dad’s going to eat that?”
“His new friend is a vegan.”
I raise my brow as I hear another giggle.
“Dinner will be ready in about twenty minutes.”
“Who’s here?” I whisper.
She shakes her head, which only increases my trepidation.
“Hello?” I call out.
“We’re in the sitting room,” Dad replies.
I paint a smile on my face and walk into the sitting room. I’m shocked to see a beautiful blonde sitting next to Dad. She’s wearing a bathrobe. I don’t think she’s even my age, and he’s wearing her lipstick all over his lips. Internally, I groan.
“Son, I’d like you to meet my girlfriend, Stephanie Holmes.”
I count to five in my head as I walk over and extend my hand.
She jumps up and into my arms. “We’re nearly family.” She presses her breasts against my chest, and I see Dad checking out her ass. What. The. Hell?
She sits back down and cuddles into Dad.
I walk over to the bar and pour myself two fingers of scotch. “How do you know Julia Martin?” I ask.
Stephanie purses her lips.
Dad clears his throat. “I met Stephanie at Traditions Lounge.”
Traditions has been around since my grandfather was young and is full of guys just like Dad—over sixty, gray, and wealthy. She was trolling for a daddy. Fan-fucking-tastic. I sigh and smile. It’s his money.
“Stephanie, what do you do?”
“I’m a dental hygienist. Make sure you floss your teeth every day,” she singsongs.
“That’s why she has such a beautiful smile,” Dad says, staring at her.
I nod. “Great. Are you from around here?”
“I grew up all over. My mom lives with her boyfriend in Surrey.”
I nod. “Nice.”
We sit in silence. I feel like I’m interrupting a private moment.
“Your father tells me you’re a doctor,” she says after a moment.
I nod. “I’m a plastic surgeon.”
Her eyes grow wide. “That is so cool. I had my breasts done. Do you think I need a facelift?”
She’s had some face work done already, but I can play along . “Oh, I don’t know. It’s just a matter of how you feel about yourself. I mostly work in reconstruction.”
“He just returned from Sudan with a little boy who’s covered in burns,” Dad says as he caresses her arm.
“Oh, that’s awful. I was thinking about getting some collagen in my lips.”
“Hyaluronic acid is your best bet for lips.” It just tumbles out of my mouth.
“I’ll have to make an appointment so you can do that for me.” She bats her eyes.
“The best doctor in town for that is Kelly Go. She’s over in Metrotown.”
She smiles widely. “That’s where I work.”
I nod.
“He should be preparing to take over the company,” Dad snipes.
I shake my head. “Dad, I don’t have your business sense. I would hate to ruin our family legacy. I want it in the hands of an expert.”
“Wow, you’re really smart,” Stephanie gushes.
A part of me is grateful Dad wants to get laid tonight. Because he hates that answer. But it’s true.
When Dad inherited the company, he added Canada’s largest cargo shipping line to the railway and trucking businesses. He’s also expanded the fleet of cargo planes and added a dozen heavy-lift helicopters, which take goods to various islands and northern communities that don’t have road access.
There isn’t anything left to do with the company except keep it moving forward, and I have no interest or expertise in that area. And he seemed fine with that before my mom died, but now, he’s changed his tune.
“My favorite show is Real Housewives ,” Stephanie announces. “They totally need to bring it here to Vancouver. It would be the number-one show in the world.”
I try not to choke on my drink.
Ellen walks in. “Dinner is ready.”
Stephanie jumps up. “You wore me out this afternoon.” She giggles at Dad. “We need to eat to keep up our strength.” She bounces her eyebrows at Dad, and he giggles at her.
My dad just giggled. I think I vomited in my mouth.
In the dining room, Stephanie moves her chair over and sits practically on Dad’s lap. Ellen places the mushroom soup in front of us.
“This looks so good,” Stephanie gushes. “Thank you, Helen.”
“It’s Ellen,” I correct.
Dad glares at me.
But then he’s distracted as Stephanie lifts a spoon of soup to his mouth. “Open up.” When he does, she tips the spoon into his mouth. “Isn’t it fantastic?”
I close my eyes for the briefest of moments.
As we eat, they talk about Stephanie’s friends, and I listen. “Your dad tells me you’re single,” she says. “I have a lot of single girlfriends I know would love to meet you.”
I school my features and manage not to look horrified. “I’m not interested in dating anyone right now. But thank you for thinking of me.”
“You let me know when you change your mind.” She bounces her brows again.
Does she think I need to get laid? I probably do, but I don’t want just anyone… I really don’t know what I want.
Ellen replaces our empty soup bowls with plates of risotto.
I take my first bite, and it’s extremely good, although I wouldn’t mind some chicken with it. “Dad, did you see the Northern Lights game last night?” I ask. “They were really hot against the Toronto Knights.”
“Oh,” Stephanie moans. “Please don’t talk about hockey. I hate hockey.”
I take a deep breath and resign myself to quietly eating my dinner. The two of them are feeding one another. Within minutes, I’ve cleared my plate. I’m going to lose my dinner if I have to sit around and watch them.
“Thanks for the meal,” I say as I stand.
“You’re done already?” Dad asks.
I nod. “I’ll catch up with you later this week.”
“Your dad is taking me on a shopping trip to Beverly Hills,” Stephanie says proudly.
I wince but remind myself that if he wants to look like a jackass in another country, more power to him. “Have a great time.”
I stand and take my plate in to Ellen in the kitchen. “Dinner was incredible, as usual.”
“You’re leaving already?”
I nod. “I felt like I was watching the beginning of a nineteen-seventies porn movie.”
Ellen smirks. “I don’t want to know how you know that.”
“How long has this been going on?” I wave at the dining room.
“She was here when I got up this morning.”
I sigh. “Hopefully, she’ll be gone soon.”
“I don’t know.” Ellen rinses dishes and puts them in the dishwasher. “Don’t be fooled by her dumb-blonde routine. She’s been here less than a day, and already, she’s made all sorts of plans with him.”
I nod. “He’s lonely.”
Ellen walks over to a beautiful fruit tart—my favorite. “I knew you were coming, so I made this for you. At least take some home.”
“Twist my arm. Thank you.”
Ellen beams. “I’m very proud of you for bringing that boy here from Sudan.”
“Thank you. What are you and Oscar doing this week? I hear Stephanie and Dad are headed to California. We should get together.”
“Frank would love that, but I warn you, he has a mole he’s all worried about.”
I laugh. “Tell him I’ll bring my medical bag.”
I hear Dad and Stephanie climbing the stairs to the second floor. I look around, feeling a little panicked. “Would you like help getting everything cleaned up?”
“I’ve got this,” she assures me. “Don’t worry about it. Let us know if Wednesday night works.”
“I will.”
I give her a kiss on the cheek and drive back to my apartment. In the old days, I would’ve gone over to Joe Fortes downtown to find my friends hanging out. But these days, they’re all hooked up with someone.
I need new friends.