Chapter Nine
Wren
Don’t be upset, but Genie gave me your number. I’ve officially set my 6 week follow up with my guy at home, and you’re not in charge of me anymore…
I was really going to fire Genie. Anyone would be lucky to hire her. She was competent, kind, and professional, except when it came to fixing me up. It had become her goal in life to ship me with someone…but at the moment, I had to deal with the text looming on my phone.
As if I was ever in charge?
Daniel’s text had come through around three o’clock and I waited fifteen minutes to respond. I couldn’t help my sarcastic response in between charting. The more I thought about it, Genie had probably told him I’d be in my office around three. She was such a sneak.
You’re always in charge. Like tonight. Would you like to have dinner in my suite? Go out? It’s NYE, but the concierge could help us get in somewhere? I’m sure anywhere you want.
Let’s do takeout at my place. Sushi? Chinese? Something casual.
I also hadn’t mentioned Rourke. After Daniel’s recounting of the dreams of my past, I couldn’t bring myself to do so.
If that’s what you want…
To which I replied…
I have someone staying with me, so my place works best. 8?
It was close enough to the truth, and I needed to save myself—and avoid being swept off my feet at the Four Seasons. I didn’t wait for Daniel to okay the time or my insisting we stay in; I sent a text with my address and went back to charting.
In my mind, I calculated the time to get home and shower and make myself somewhat presentable…and also, deal with Rourke.
Unfortunately, my doorbell rang as I was still padding around my bedroom with wet hair, deciding whether a white long-sleeved blouse and skinny jeans was okay.
My bell went off again and my decision was made for me. With waves drying in my hair, bare feet and the aforementioned outfit, I swung the door open, revealing myself and a semi-growling Rourke.
“Happy New Year,” Daniel said, leaning against the trim, a bottle of champagne in one hand, a smile on his face, and a glimmer in his eye.
I didn’t believe in that sort of thing, but now I knew I’d been wrong…
“Is this your houseguest?” Daniel added without waiting for a reply.
“Happy New Year. Come in, and yes, this is Rourke, who only puts up with my long hours and his string of dog walkers because I pay the bills and keep him in expensive kibble,” I said, hiding how much the dog actually meant to me with humor. Instead, I noted that underneath Daniel’s leather jacket we were practically twins: he was in jeans and a French blue shirt.
I moved to close the door as he bent down and held a fist for Rourke to smell, and I needed a distraction from this small gesture. I didn’t know why. I’d seen his affection for his own dog in college—why wouldn’t he be that way with all dogs?
“Very nice to meet you, little fella,” he was saying, patting Rourke on the top of his head, and I wondered where my growly Norwich Terrier had disappeared to. Rourke’s whole butt shook from his little tail wagging. “I hope it’s a great year,” he said, standing and pulling me in for a hug.
I wanted to mention he could’ve asked permission, but it felt so good. And without knowing it, I’d been craving this sensation.
I inhaled the leather and pine needles mixture swirling off him as he said, “Thanks for fixing me up, Birdie.”
I slipped out of his grasp and he stood there, champagne still in hand.
“I’m sorry, I should have said I was going in for a hug. It just came over me.”
I nodded.
“For you,” he said, handing me the chilled bottle.
“Thanks.”
“This is a nice pad,” he commented on my brownstone as we started moving.
“Toast is nice,” I told him.
He laughed. Rourke was on his heels, following us where we went, making sure this man didn’t attack me—at least that was what I told myself.
“Still a ballbuster,” he commented.
“I don’t mean to be. It’s in my nature…”
“Those Italian, Spanish, and Jewish roots, you once told me.”
I strolled toward the kitchen and he followed. “Yeah, I suppose. But now I think it’s just me. Cynical, sarcastic, too much—I’ve been told it all. Honestly, I work, rarely play, and I guess I can’t help my attitude.”
He’d settled on a stool, one ass cheek on, one off, and cocked his head. “You look beautiful.”
“Daniel,” I whispered, “what are you doing?” I leaned my hip into the counter and stared at him. “What I mean is this has been an awkward reunion, and I’m not sure what you think will happen.”
He ran a hand through his hair and I noted it was long around the ears, likely from being detained in Boston with surgery and physical therapy.
“Let’s have a drink first? Before we dive into sentiments, yeah? It is New Year’s, too.”
“What would you like?” I asked without pushing for an answer, knowing he’d get his way anyway.
“Scotch?”
I moved toward the cabinet above the counter, next to the window, and opened the door, revealing my liquor stash. I grabbed a bottle of Lagavulin and walked with it to the cabinet with frosted glass on the outside, pulling out a lowball. “Off your pain meds, I assume?” I turned and asked before pouring.
“I don’t take that shite,” he stated.
It felt like I had to ask even though I knew he’d refused any pain meds during physical therapy.
I couldn’t help my laugh. “I see you still carry a little Scottish charm with you.”
“Can’t be helped.”
I poured him a few fingers straight up, knowing he wouldn’t water anything down, and handed it over.
“And you? Want me to open the champagne?” Of course he had to go and be a gentleman.
“I can. You’re the guest.”
I’d passed Daniel the tumbler and turned to grab a glass for myself.
“This okay?” he asked me, ignoring my offer to open the bottle, holding it up for me to see.
“Perfect,” I responded without even knowing what it was—I’d take any kind of bubbly to temper my anxiety.
He popped the cork, and I grabbed a glass. And before I knew it we were both seated with our drinks. And it was time to have a talk of sorts.
I decided to get right to it. “Now, are you going to tell me what you’re doing, chasing after me, after a million and one years? Seriously, it’s been decades. You went on to have your life, and I’m living mine.”
I watched him swallow, his eyes softening. “Honestly, I don’t know…other than I’ve been thinking about you a lot recently. Truth is, several of my friends have found love later in life, and here I am…living like a dumb-ass bachelor. You have been the only person I ever cared for. Sappy, yeah?”
He lifted his voice at the end as if he was asking me, and so I said, “Maybe a little?”
“When I got hurt, I took it as a sign to reconnect.”
“We could have reconnected any time, you know?” I couldn’t help it; the words slipped out of my mouth.
He took a swig of his scotch. “True. The thing is, we were kids when all that went down, and it was embarrassing. You were such a force, and I was being bossed around by my dad.”
“I wasn’t a force, more like a robot…”
Daniel stood, abandoning his drink, and strode toward me, Rourke trailing his feet. He came close, putting an arm on either side of me, bracing on the counter. “I was the robot. No more negative self-talk from you…” He started to lean in closer. He appeared to be breathing me in…
“Daniel, you’re my patient…”
“Was.” One word was all he gave before continuing to inhale me.
Unsure of what to do, I swallowed my pride and allowed him a beat to finish.
“I’m not going to try anything. I just can’t believe it’s you and I’m here. That you’re in front of me.” His hand lifted and hovered near my hair. “May I?” he asked, his voice unwavering and gaze wholly focused on me.
I nodded, even though I didn’t know what he was asking. The real problem was five minutes in his close proximity and my answer was going to be yes, no matter what.
His fingers sifted through my waves, pushing my hair behind my ear. “You have been the gold standard in my mind for two decades. No one had your energy or personality. Everyone fell short, so none of this negative talk.”
“Maybe we should take it back to the basics. Like, order some food and you tell me what you have been up to since I last saw you, when you were twenty-one?”
This got me a loud laugh and a smidgen of personal space. Daniel wandered back to his scotch, Rourke again following, but his scent continued to linger all around me, making me regret my suggestion to tone it down.
“Sushi? Thai? One thing I never do much of is cook, unless it’s quick and easy, so I know all the takeout spots.”
“Thai,” he said, picking up my dog—who rarely allowed anyone to do so.
“I guess sushi is one of the major food groups out west, so no need to get it here.”
“Aye, you got me. Actually, I don’t care for it. Had a rough night after an all-you-can-eat sushi with some golf buddies, way back on the tour, and it hasn’t been my thing since.”
“Oh,” was all I could muster up to say. A wise woman and doctor, and I’d lost my words.
“Why don’t you order a few dishes, ones you like, and I’ll get to try them all,” Daniel said as I started rifling through my phone for the menu.
“You sure?”
He nodded, setting Rourke back down and refreshing our drinks while I stepped into the foyer to call.
Back in Daniel’s presence, his aura overwhelming me, I swallowed bits of apprehension before speaking. Unsure why I’d done as he said, I still let him know it was going to be about forty minutes before the food was delivered.
“Do you want to stay in here?” he asked me, eyeing the hallway that led to a living area.
“No, come on, we can go sit somewhere more comfortable.”
He grabbed both our drinks and I led the way. The pre-pre-New Year’s Eve stuff hummed on the TV, and I sat down in the corner of my gray velvet sectional, Daniel snagging the striped chair across from me.
“I am digging your place. It’s homey.”
I rolled my eyes. “Please stop with all the compliments. You’re here. I fixed your knee. You stayed in Boston for PT. You got everything you wanted.”
This earned me another laugh. I wished I was sitting closer so I could feel the rumble vibrate through me.
“Tell me, med school and all that shite.” Daniel sat quietly, waiting for me to answer.
“Since I operated on you, and you found me to do so, you must know I left Arizona for Pittsburgh for medical school. I liked it there. There are a lot of cultures, foods, and fun people. My parents were obsessed with my not getting distracted, which would have been impossible. All I cared about was finishing and leaving that part of my life behind. I’d identified ortho pretty early as being the specialty I wanted, and I had to compete against the men, and be bigger, badder, and better. So that’s what I did.”
“Looks like you succeeded.”
He meant it to be nice, but it felt unfounded. He had no idea how hard I had struggled to make it to the top.
I nodded and went on. “Matched here for residency, and well, the rest is history. After I got my first job offer, I told my parents thanks for all the support, but I wasn’t needing their kind of love anymore.”
“Harsh…but true. You had dreams, many of them, and you achieved them. But you missed out on others.”
Wild thing was he knew this maybe better than anyone.
I felt a giggle bubble in my chest. “For about twelve seconds, I debated going to veterinarian school. And then quickly decided…no more school.”
“Probably smart.”
I nodded and took a sip of champagne, letting the alcohol burn my dry throat. “It is what it is…”
I saw him take in the room, his eyes scanning the perimeter. “No tree?”
I’d give him an A+ for a successful diversion. “Where do you think they got the tree for your room from?”
“Really? I’m sorry—I didn’t know.”
“Kidding! Take a joke, plus I’d never give them my tree to bring to you.” I paused for a beat, then said, “I skipped it this year. I guess I’m kind of a Grinch, but in fairness to my Jewish half, I didn’t light a menorah either.”
“Well, that’s kind of you not to pick sides.” It was funny how an easiness could settle back in between two people. “Other than work, what do you do?” he asked.
Luck on my side, the doorbell rang and I got up and padded to the front. Daniel, despite an occasional limp, and Rourke were both on my heels, the former pulling out cash for the delivery person.
“Oh, they have my card on file,” I said, happy I’d made the food order call discreetly.
“It was supposed to be on me. This was my idea.”
“Come on, control freak, you can’t pay for the whole world around you.” I walked toward the kitchen, bag in hand, and set everything on the counter.
Daniel started rummaging through the drawers.
“Do you need something?”
“A few serving spoons?” he inquired and I pointed in the correct direction.
I took a moment to watch the six-foot-plus man moving about my whitewashed kitchen. When I bought the place, I’d never imagined a man living here.
I stood on my tiptoes to grab plates, and Daniel said, “Leave it. Let’s have a picnic. Forks and containers and us. College style for times we missed out on…”
“A picnic? It’s starting to snow.” I felt my eyebrow lift.
“An inside picnic. I saw that you have one of those fires that lights up with a switch. I can handle that… What I can’t do is get down on the floor, so the couch’ll have to do.”
Rourke began jumping at Daniel’s feet as he lifted the bag of takeout, seconding the idea, and off the two of them went.
The television was showing Times Square and the crowds filling the streets as Daniel lowered himself to the couch and set the bag on the table.
Sitting on the other side of the sectional, I mentioned, “You sure went from formal dinner at the hotel to carpet picnic pretty fast.”
Snapping off a lid on some steamed dumplings, Daniel answered as I should have predicted. “We can do the formal dinner tomorrow?”
“Give me that,” I said, snatching a pair of chopsticks out of the bag, waiting for him to pass the appetizer.
Grabbing one dumpling and plopping it in my mouth rendered me speechless for a few moments—thank God, because who knew what other stupid comments I was going to say.