8. Ruth
Chapter eight
Ruth
Ruth
“ I need to hear it again.” Gemma popped her head into my office, and her curly hair swung crazily to the side. “Because I still don’t believe you.”
I lifted my eyes to the ceiling and took my fingers off the keyboard where I’d been tapping away a second before. “Which part? Because it’s literally three days later, and you’re making me want to invent a memory zapper at this point. I wish it had never happened.”
“Ooh, a memory zapper. Like in MIB?” she asked, coming all the way into the office with her chicken pot pie in one hand and an energy drink in the other. “I could use one of those. I flirted with the security guard down in the lobby and he pointed out that my skirt was tucked into my underwear.” She plunked her food down on my desk, and I barely managed to maneuver my latest stack of match files out of the way.
“Didn’t you do that with the guy in HR last week?” I asked, reaching into my desk drawer to pull out my pathetic lunch of snack mix and a diet cola.
Gemma shrugged and popped open her energy drink. “It’s my recurring curse for stealing Mason Aimone’s eraser in the third grade. His mom was a witch.”
I blinked at her. “She cursed you with that specifically…?”
“Probably.” She sipped her drink. “Anyway, I want to hear it again. I need to. You woke up in his house and he what?”
“Stripped me naked and had his way with me,” I said with bored annoyance. I opened the bag and fished out a bagel chip.
“I wish. You need to get laid. But I need to hear it because I had a thought while I was vacuuming last night.”
“While you were—never mind. What?”
“Don’t you think it’s kind of funny how he was really mad at you, and he showed up to the speed dating thing with the express intent to ream you out, only to take pity on you and bring you into his house?” she asked, raising her sandy eyebrows. Gemma’s eyes looked especially blue today with her bright aqua top bouncing blue tones around her pale face.
I gave her my “granny glance” over the rim of my glasses. “Of course I do. What of it?”
“What if he likes you?” she asked significantly.
I shrugged. “He said he likes me.”
“I knew it.” Gemma stabbed her pot pie with her fork triumphantly. “I knew it. He wants to date you for real.”
“He doesn’t like me in that way,” I clarified, opening my soda. “He just said he likes me, like… tolerates me. Like maybe I’m not as bad as he thought.” I remembered suddenly that he’d said I was “his type,” and my cheeks grew hot.
“Oh,” Gemma pointed her fork at me. “I see that. You’re holding back. I knew this was juicer than a fake dating scheme. Come on.”
Gemma had been circling in on this all week. It had been three days since I’d gotten irresponsibly drunk and passed out on the couch of a guy who, by all accounts, should have detested me. And it had been three days since the unsettling realization that I found him maddeningly attractive. It had also been three days since I’d closed a car door on him and ran away from any more cheek-burning, leg-squirming interactions with Dr. Reed. Supposedly, I was going on a date with him tonight, but I was so overwhelmed at the idea, that I’d more or less ignored the fact.
I popped a pretzel in my mouth. “Fine. He said,” I paused to chew, “that I’m his type.”
“Oh my God.” Gemma closed her eyes like she was reveling in the stream of a hot shower after a long day. “Oh my fucking God. You’re getting laid. It’s finally happening.”
“What do you mean ‘finally?’ I’ve been—I mean I’m not a—Jesus, Gemma. I’ve had sex before.”
“It’s the stumbling for me,” she joked with a crooked grin. “The way you trip all over the word ‘fuck’ just gets me every time.”
“I say fuck,” I muttered .
“But you don’t fuck, ” she amended ruthlessly. “Not since, what, last year? The year before that?”
“Probably,” I mumbled. I thought back to the last time Vaughn and I had hooked up. Before he’d ditched me and left me penniless, jobless, and heartbroken.
Admittedly, sex had never been Vaughn’s forte. He didn’t enjoy it as much as I did, and he usually participated with some reluctance. We hadn’t hooked up for weeks before he’d left, anyway.
“Regardless, I’m sorry to let you down, but I’m not getting laid. Dr. Reed and I have a mutually beneficial arrangement that ends after his awards ceremony. And honestly,” I barged on after Gemma opened her mouth to argue, “I’m only doing it because he saved my ass in that bar. I don’t know what I would have done, but I don’t think it would have helped my job if Scarlet had realized I was wasted. Also, I really don’t think it would have been safe. So.” I straightened my back and gave her a steely look. “I’m not getting laid. The relationship is not real. Be cool.”
“You be cool,” Gemma shot back, still grinning. “Because it’s cool to get laid by hot doctors who rescue you from lecherous men in bars.”
I tipped my head back in exasperation. “There were no lecherous men.”
“That you know of,” Gemma said with a twirl of her fork. “Bet you Chinese dinner that you get laid. If I’m right, you pay.”
“Okay,” I laughed derisively. “Sure. And when we part ways with my nether regions drier than British humor, then you’re buying me extra rangoons.”
“Uh huh,” Gemma grinned, popping some pot pie in her mouth. “Sure thing.”
My phone rang at my desk, so I put my bag of snack mix aside and answered. “Hello, this is Dr. Coldwell.”
“Hey, Dr. Coldwell,” Olivia said brightly. “I have your husband here. He’s hoping you’re not busy with a client.”
“My husband?” I asked a little too incredulously.
Gemma made an oval with her mouth and coughed out a laugh. “Well, that was fucking fast.”
I waved her away. “Uh, eh, yeah.”
Olivia hesitated. “Sorry… yes you’re with a client?”
“No, I’m not with a client,” I replied quickly. Wait, did that mean he wanted to see me? Now? I looked down at my black and white polka dot blouse that had yellow egg from my breakfast on my boob and wrinkles because I didn’t own an ironing board. I hadn’t been planning on seeing any other humans today. “I mean yes. I have a cl—”
“She’s on lunch,” Gemma shouted loud enough to be heard. “Send him back!”
“Wonderful,” Olivia said with dripping, syrupy enthusiasm.
“ Fuck you,” I mouthed over the receiver. To Olivia, I said, “Thanks.”
Gemma laughed, low and full of snarky glee. “Here comes your hubby. ” She popped out of her seat and grabbed her pie and drink from my desk. “I’ll just give the two of you some privacy. ”
“No, Gemma.” I stood fast, only to get abruptly jerked back down. I looked down in confusion and found the ribbon from the bow that hung from my collar caught in the desk drawer. I tugged on it. “Gemma,” I hissed.
“Hey, Dr. Ruth’s husband,” Gemma said cheerfully as she headed down the hallway.
I looked up again and found the tall, toned man in question already leaning against the door frame. He waved to Gemma. “Bye, Gemma.”
“Wait, how do you know her?” I tugged at the ribbon of fabric again, already getting sweaty from social panic.
“She’s on the agency website.” Cal considered me with a tilt of his head. His hands were in the pockets of his dark gray dress pants, and he wore a white button-down and solid black tie. “You need some help?”
“No,” I replied tersely, tugging again on the fabric before fumbling with the drawer to open it. But the fabric had wedged the damn thing closed. “What are you doing here?”
Cal pushed away from the door frame, sliding his hands out of his pockets and approaching me with measured steps and a pressed mouth that looked like it was fighting a smile. “I hadn’t heard from my wife in three days. What else would you have me do?”
The way he said “wife” made my stomach do a cartwheel. With a furtive glance around, I muttered, “Not like I’m actually your wife.”
“What was that?” Cal asked loudly, and his grin cracked across his face as he traversed the small space and reached me. “Did you say something, sweetie?”
My entire face went July sun hot, and I gave up trying to free my shirt from the drawer to reluctantly angle a look his way. Green eyes, sweeping, dark copper hair, and a handsome smile met my look. I regretted facing him, like I’d decided to look straight into a solar eclipse and would probably go blind for my efforts. I pushed my glasses up my nose in a nervous gesture. “Stop teasing.”
Cal came to stand close to me, swirling me in the scent of coconut and sunscreen and warming the air around me. He reached for the drawer, and with one firm tug, had it open. But he didn’t step away. Instead, he brought his long, lean body a breath from mine, and with deft fingers retied the bow at my collar. “Just doing my part, Dr. Coldwell.”
I stared up at him in a stupefied trance. “Right.”
He tugged the ribbons into a neat bow, grazing my throat with his knuckles. “We had a change of plans. I wanted to run them by you.”
“Oh?” I felt a bizarre mix of relief and disappointment at the prospect that we might not be going on a date tonight after all.
Cal let his hands drop and slid them back into his pockets. “My parents got reservations at a seaside restaurant they’ve been wanting to visit for a while. But it’s in Newport.”
I let that information settle in my brain. “Oh, so it’s like two hours away?”
“Right. I got us a hotel room in case dinner runs late, but you don’t have to use it if you don’t want to. And obviously, if that’s too far, that’s fine, too.” He watched me with quiet stillness, like he genuinely didn’t mind either way. I’d never felt less pressured by the prospect of a date in my life.
“Um,” I cleared my throat, running my fingers over the bow he’d tied. “I mean, that’s fine. I’ll just have to leave work a little early.”
Cal looked around my postage stamp-sized office. “Gosh. Whatever will your clients do without you?”
I tightened my mouth derisively. “Very droll.”
Cal chuckled, stepping away. “You’re such a nerd, Coldwell. ‘Droll,’” he mocked quietly. “Where’s your boss? I need to say hello and save your job.”
“Nope.” I darted forward, going around my desk and putting my arms out wide to block the direction of his path to the door. “Absolutely not.”
“Don’t be silly.” He scooped up both my wrists in his one hand easily, twirling me out of the way and then plastering me to his side like we were a couple on a romantic stroll. “We have to make this worth the effort, right? Let’s see. I’ll bet her office has the most windows.” Cal had one arm around my shoulders and the other pinned my wrists between my breasts as he led us out the doorway.
“Cal,” I gritted out, fighting his hold. I would have had better luck defying gravity. “She’s going to know.”
Cal clicked his tongue. “Only if you wiggle around like that. Relax, wifey. We got this. ”
“Oh my God,” I groaned. He adjusted his grip on me, dropping my wrists and settling his arm around my shoulders with a relaxed, firm hold as we walked through the hallways.
“Do you need relationship lessons, Shortstop? Lesson one: Chill the fuck out.” He squeezed my shoulders pointedly.
“This is not going to go well,” I whispered harshly. “I’m not a relationship person.”
“Everyone is a relationship person; they just need the right relationship.” He bounced his eyebrows. “Just play along.”
I made a high-pitched, skeptical sound, but soon we were standing in front of the executive office, and if the size and windows didn’t give it away, the nameplate on the door certainly did. It read “Janice Kopernick, CEO” in bold black and white lettering.
The door was already open, and Janice looked up from where she stood at her ergonomic desk near the window. Today she had on brightly patterned boho pants that tinkled with beads when she moved, and her blue and purple shawl fell around her shoulders and white blouse in elegant disarray. “Dr. Coldwell, come in.”
“Thanks, er,” I gestured to Cal at my side. He rubbed my arm up and down in a soothing gesture that nearly sent my thoughts scattering in the wind. “Just… Cal came to visit, so…” I trailed off. You are so fucking awkward, Ruth. Jesus Christ.
“Hey,” Cal said with a wave of his free hand. “I’m Cal.”
“Oh,” Janice perked up with bright interest. “Hello. I’m Janice. Nice to meet you. ”
“This is my hu—” The word lodged itself in my throat, but I swallowed it down and tried again. “Husband,” I finished weakly.
“Well, it’s wonderful to meet you,” Janice replied with keen interest and an obvious head-to-toe perusal of Cal. Not that I could blame her. The man was a work of art. “Ruth mentioned that she had a husband.”
Cal chuckled. “Well, I am for now. She honestly wanted to strangle me when I asked to say hi.”
Janice came around her desk and held out a hand for Cal to shake. “Our Dr. Coldwell is exceptionally good at keeping her feelings close to the vest, I’ve gathered.”
“Very,” Cal agreed with a charming smile as he leaned forward to shake her hand. “It just makes it all the sweeter when you earn them.”
How was he saying things that were one hundred percent true even while he lied through his teeth? I gave him a genuine, slightly disbelieving smile. “Earn them, huh?”
Janice bounced a look between us. “I admit, I had some skepticism about our enigmatic young doctor and her partner, but I can see that you two are well-matched.”
I choked back a laugh. Good lord. She couldn’t have been more off. “Opposites attract and all that,” I said with a nervous laugh.
“Exactly what I’ve been trying to point out to you,” Janice replied meaningfully.
“Yeah,” I squeaked out .
“Well, we’d better get going, love,” Cal said with a warm smile my way. I could have sworn my heart stopped beating altogether. To Janice, he added, “Oh, sorry. If that’s all good. My parents live in Newport, and we’re meeting them for dinner.”
“By all means,” Janice gestured with an open arm. “We’ll see you Monday, Dr. Coldwell.”
“Have a good weekend,” I replied with a wave. We walked back to my office, and I shot him an askance, squinty-eyed look. “I’m a little disturbed by how good you are at that.”
Cal released me once we were in my office, and completely at ease, he leaned against the wall again. He shrugged with false modesty. “All I did was tell the truth.”
“Right.” I went to my desk and rolled up my snack mix bag. “And you somehow got me off work like three hours early. Smooth.”
“Wait.” Cal pointed to the snack I was shoving into my laptop bag. “Was that your lunch ?”
I glanced at it. “Yeah. Why?”
“Woman.” Cal rubbed his eyes. “You make some seriously questionable choices.”
“Like fake dating you?” I asked with an arch look.
He lowered his hand, smiling. “Cute.”
“If we’re going for fancy, seaside food, I’m probably better off hungry anyway,” I said, shoving the food into my bag, picking up my phone, and reaching over to turn off my computer. “Or is it one of those places that I’m going to need a fast-food run after? ”
“It could go either way,” Cal said frankly.
“I’ll get a cheese stick from home before we leave.” I zipped up my bag. “What time are we leaving?”
“Cheese stick,” he muttered raising his eyes to the ceiling. He straightened and followed me as I left my office. “I’ll swing back around your place in an hour if that works.”
“Sure.” I tried not to touch him as I passed by, but my body had a mind of its own, and my shoulder brushed his hard chest. It sent goosebumps tickling down my arm, and I wanted to bop myself in the head for it. Was there any chance of keeping my head and heart in line during this whole charade?
I was starting to think there wasn’t.
We parted ways outside the building, and with one last wave, I headed down the historical street to where I’d parked my car in front of a meter along the road. As I hurried through the muggy summer afternoon, passing through a thin crowd of shoppers and tourists, my phone buzzed in my bag. Thinking it was Gemma wanting details about my office encounter with my fake husband, I fished it out as I reached my car. As I glanced at the screen I stopped abruptly.
Vaughn:
Hey gorg. Back in the states. Heard u were in Eugene. Up for a chat?
I looked up from my phone, but I couldn’t see anything. Not really. Like my glasses had been wrenched from my nose and the world had been left reeling and blurry, I stared forward in shock. I’d just been talking about Vaughn three days ago, and it had been for the first time in a long time, honestly. It was like speaking his name out loud had brought him back to life. No, worse than that.
I’d summoned my personal demon to return and torment me.