Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
Eloise
The word ‘sir’ just slipped right off my tongue.
I’d call it a Freudian slip, but it was more an ‘oh-no-fuck-me’ slip.
Holding my breath, I stare at Dr. Morgan, waiting for his reaction. If he calls me lamb right now, I may just drop to my knees.
Out of weakness, not out of a desire to do what I did to him in that club.
“Is that Eloise?” Stevie Morgan’s voice carries through the narrow foyer. “It’s her, isn’t it?”
“It is,” he affirms with a brisk nod, never tearing his gaze from mine.
“Invite her in,” Stevie suggests from somewhere behind Dr. Morgan.
He’s a tall man with broad shoulders and a trim waist. Given how he’s towering over me, I should feel claustrophobic, but I think I’m shock.
Why is he even here right now?
After Stevie invited me to dinner, I sent Astrid a text asking who else would be here. I did that with the excuse that I was bringing dessert and needed to know how much cheesecake to buy.
She claimed it would only be the four of us. I didn’t question that since I’ve never been here at the same time as the doctor.
“Hey, Eloise.” Berk appears right behind his cousin. “I hope you brought extra dessert. We just found out two minutes ago that Stevie invited Gaines to dinner.”
“How could I not?” Stevie sneaks past Dr. Morgan to greet me with a hug. “I missed him and wanted him to see the sweater Eloise knit for me. I asked her to add something special to it, and she said she would.”
I did tell her that when she texted me yesterday to request the addition of a small blue whale to the sleeve of the white cardigan I made for her. I welcomed the last minute complication because it sucked up all my time last night.
I hold up a shopping bag that matches the one Saylor had in her hand yesterday when she dropped her stuffed lamb on the cafeteria floor.
Dr. Morgan’s gaze falls to it. “Let me get out of the way.”
I appreciate that because he not only smells like the sin I partook in at Club Skyn but he looks like one of those hot doctors from the medical dramas on my favorite streaming service.
I avoided all of those last night and opted to watch a documentary about the origins of fly fishing while I added the whale detail to Stevie’s sweater.
“Thank you,” I whisper as I brush past him.
“Wait a minute.” Berk grabs hold of my hand. “You two haven’t been formally introduced yet, have you?”
I can’t answer that because I rode Dr. Morgan’s hand to the best orgasm of my life. I did that while pretending to be Loretta Lamb. I admit the made-up name wasn’t great, but the fake ID it came with was a real bargain, so I embraced it.
Dr. Morgan spins to face me. “We’ve met.”
Uh oh. My heart thunders in my chest.
“At Atlas 22 the other night,” he goes on. “I was picking up takeout. There was a medical emergency.”
“I was having dinner,” I add. Or at least that was my intention before Daxton went into cardiac arrest.
“Let me guess.” Berk crosses his arms. “Gaines shot into doctor mode.”
“Dr. Morgan saved a man’s life,” I affirm.
“It’s Gaines,” Dr. Morgan directs that at me. “Call me Gaines.”
Or is it Garin?
That question stays on my lips because, much like Vegas, what happens at the club on the Lower East Side stays there.
Until it shows up at the restaurant you’re at and two days later in the foyer of your cousin’s home.
“Is Philip coming?” Stevie asks, hope in her voice. “He promised I’d see him soon.”
“Philip is Eloise’s boyfriend,” Berk tells his cousin.
Dr. Morgan nods. “I see.”
“He’s not coming to dinner,” I announce to all three of them.
Stevie sighs. “Did he have to work again?”
I nod, not able to vocally lie to her. She asked me to invite Philip, too, but since I don’t know where that relationship is heading, I never bothered to reach out to him today.
“What does Philip do?” Dr. Morgan asks.
“He’s a big deal on Wall Street,” Berk answers before I can. “He’s going places.”
After what he did at the restaurant when Daxton collapsed, the chance of Philip going any place with me is slim.
“Dinner’s almost ready.” Berk pats his cousin on the back.
I study them as they stand side by side. Astrid once mentioned they were born just a few days apart. Berk is thirty-six.
Simple math adds up to me having the best sexual encounter of my life with a man who is thirteen years older than me.
No wonder he knew what he was doing. His touch made me come harder than I ever have before or since.
“Can you show me the sweater?” Stevie tugs on my hand. “I want to model it right after dinner.”
I slide the twine handles of the bag from my fist and give it to her. Berk grabs hold of the strings of the pastry box from me at the same time.
I thank him with a soft smile.
“To the kitchen.” He points in that direction. “I hope everyone is hungry.”
I glance at Dr. Morgan one last time. His gaze is already pinned to me. “After you, Eloise.”
Stevie grabs my hand and yanks me in the direction of the hall that leads to the kitchen.
I take a deep breath in an effort to quell my nerves.
How can Dr. Morgan possibly remember a brief encounter he had at the club with me over two years ago? He was comfortable there. He knew exactly which corridor led to the private rooms.
He had been there before. I’m very sure he’s been there since.
All I am is a very distant memory to him. That’s all I’ll ever be.