Surprise Delivery (Page 35)

“Henry,” I say. “It’s Duncan.”

We’re sitting at a restaurant called Byard’s later that night. It’s an upscale place in the Upper East Side that has decent food and an okay atmosphere. Though it’s not my favorite place in the city, I made the reservations on Henry’s suggestion. He felt I needed to make the right impression. Always concerned about image, that guy.

Sitting across from me is a tall, leggy blonde named Vanessa. I can see why Henry is into her. I mean, it’s true, she is a knockout – though, honestly, she doesn’t exactly fit with my tastes. She’s far more my brother’s speed, for sure. She’s about five-foot-ten, has long honey-blonde hair that falls to the middle of her back, rich brown eyes, full breasts, and a figure that won’t quit.

Like I said, she’s a knockout. More than that, though, she’s also quite obviously very smart. At least Henry got that part of my tastes right.

I’ve resisted going out with anybody he’s wanted to set me up with for so long just out of sheer principle – and maybe, a healthy dose of spite. But, after the scene at the hospital with Brad earlier, I realize now that I need to get my head on straight. I need to stop thinking about Alexis. She and Brad are a thing – a thing with a child, no less – so, if I’m going to stay, I need to put her out of my mind. It’s about the only way I’m going to keep myself sane.

Of course, I’d be lying I said the idea of going back to Physicians Worldwide hasn’t gone through my head a time or twelve. Maybe leaving and doing another stint in Syria or some other war-torn place will help me get my head back to where it needs to be – and off of Alexis entirely. Maybe, that sort of forced detox is exactly what I need. Maybe. At the moment, I really have no fucking idea what I need.

“So, Henry tells me you’re a doctor,” Vanessa says. “A surgeon?”

I nod. “That’s right.”

“And you just got back from Syria?”

I nod. “A little while ago now, but yeah.”

“Interesting,” she says. “What was it like over there? I mean, I only see what’s on the news, but I understand there’s a war going on over there.”

“It had its moments,” I say and laugh. “It got pretty intense from time to time.”

“I bet,” she says. “I don’t know how you did it. I mean, putting your life on the line for those people.”

I cock my head at her. “What people?”

She shrugs. “People living in a country where they seem to enjoy blowing each other up.”

“You do realize the vast majority of people there aren’t engaged in any sort of conflict,” I frown. “They’re just caught up in the mess through no fault of their own.”

She purses her lips. “I didn’t mean it like that,” she replies, as if her meaning should have been obvious.

“Then what did you mean?” I ask, my tone perhaps a little hostile.

“Just that there’s a lot of violent people over there,” she shrugs.

Yeah, like that explains anything.

“By that logic,” I say, “I should refuse to treat anybody who comes into my ER who got caught in a crossfire between two gangs right here in New York.”

“That’s absurd,” she says. “And an oversimplification of what I meant.”

I chuckle and take a sip of my wine and a tense silence descends over the table. Vanessa focuses on her plate, cutting up some of her food and eating it quietly as I push the food around on my plate with my fork. Finally, she raises her head and gives me a small smile.

“I’m sorry if I offended you,” she tells me. “Let’s talk about something else. Something less – politically charged, perhaps?”

I nod. “I’m always for lighter topics.”

After that, the conversation runs smoothly enough, I suppose. We swap our prep school horror stories, favorite books, shows, music – we talk about some of our mutual interests. We both enjoy the theater and museums. Art galleries. Though, I can tell that some of our interests diverge greatly. She’s very intelligent – though, tone deaf on certain topics – and has a dry wit I enjoy. But, that spark, that connection just isn’t there for me.

We make it through to the end of the meal without any further incidents or insensitive remarks from her. I pay the check and we leave the restaurant. She only lives a couple of blocks from the restaurant, so I walk her home. The evening air is brisk and feels nice on my skin as we stroll. The neighborhood we enter is nice. Everything is well kept, clean, and smells like money – not that I’d expect anything less from Vanessa. She enjoys her family’s wealth. Not that I begrudge her that. I happen to enjoy my family’s wealth, but over dinner, I got the impression that’s how she defines herself – by what and how much she has. By her money.

“This is me,” she chirps, pointing to a brownstone.

I nod. “Nice place.”

She shrugs. “It’ll do for now, I suppose.”

Vanessa steps a little closer to me and takes hold of the lapels of my jacket. She leans close and my nose is filled with the subtle scent of her perfume, her skin, and the wine on her breath. Her gaze is locked onto mine and there’s a flirty smile on her lips.

“Would you like to see the inside?” she purrs, her meaning clear.

Though there’s part of me that’s tempted – I’m a warm-blooded man who’s got needs, after all – I know that this isn’t going to work out between us. She’s a gorgeous woman, but there are parts of her personality that are completely repugnant to me. There are things about her that turn me off completely.

So yeah, while sleeping with her might be fun – and honestly speaking, I really need to get laid – I just don’t think I want to have sex with Vanessa. She and I don’t click on any meaningful level and it would never go anywhere between us. For me, it would just be fucking, but I know she’s looking for a lot more than that. And I’m not willing to give that to her.

“Sorry, but I think I should probably head home, actually,” I say.

The flirty smile on her lips grows. “Oh, a gentleman, huh?”

I shrug. “Not really.”

“Well, I guess you’re playing hard to get then, huh?”

I laugh softly. “Not exactly.”

It’s not playing hard to get. It’s simply not being all that interested, and not wanting to take advantage of a situation just because I want to get off. Not to mention the fact that even though I went out with Vanessa to help me get my mind off her, Alexis’ face continued to float through my mind endlessly. It was like having my own personal highlight reel of something I desperately want but am never going to have.

“Then what it is, Duncan?” she asks, an expression of hurt on her face.

I give her a wry smile. “It’s late,” I reply. “And I’ve got an early rotation tomorrow, so I need to get some sleep.”

Vanessa seems slightly relieved by my explanation, though not entirely satisfied. Oh well, not my problem. I tried and already know it’s not going to work out. It’d be pretty shitty of me to screw her and then refuse to see her again.

“Well, when can we get together again?” she asks.

“Not sure at the moment,” I answer. “But, let me give you a call.”

“Sure,” she says, smart enough to understand where this is going.

“Goodnight, Vanessa.”

“Goodnight,” she says, a small trace of hope on her face. “And I do hope to hear from you soon.”

I turn and walk back the way we came. Pulling out my phone, I text my driver to let him know I’m on my way and to meet me in front of the restaurant. I tried. I really tried. I kept an open mind and went out with her. Vanessa is great on a lot of levels. We just don’t quite fit together in any meaningful way. More than that, we don’t have that spark I shared with Alexis. That connection I feel when I’m around her is missing entirely. More than that, it’s something I want.

The bottom line is that for me, Alexis is the one. She’s the only woman who’s ever been able to light me up inside the way she does. Unfortunately, having her doesn’t appear to be in the cards for me. I know that no amount of self-pity, anger, or desire is going to get me what I want – which is Alexis. She already has a man and is raising a family with him. I’m the square peg in the round hole in that scenario and I don’t see that fact changing anytime soon.

Which is what’s making a return trip to Syria all the more attractive to me.

Twenty

Alexis

“So, here are the names of the lawyers I’ve gotten,” Bri says.

Though I’m nursing Aurora, I manage to take the piece of paper she’s handing me. I look over the half dozen names and phone numbers written out on it in her neat hand. I look back up at her, a confused expression on my face, not understanding why she’s handing me this. I hadn’t asked her to get me the names of lawyers or anything like that.

“I know you’re afraid of Duncan taking Aurora away from you when you tell him,” she says. “So, I took the liberty of getting some recommendations for lawyers who specialize in this kind of stuff.”

“Oh,” I say. “Thanks, Bri.”

She drops down onto the loveseat and folds her legs up under her. There’s a look of concern on her face as she watches me feeding the baby.

“What is it?” I ask.

She shrugs. “I’m just worried.”

“I can tell that much,” I tell her.

Sabrina can’t even seem to muster up a smile as she lets her gaze fall to her hands, which are resting in her lap. I can tell she’s struggling with whatever it is on her mind – which tells me it’s not going to be good or something I want to hear. It also tells me that I have some small idea of what it is going through her head, though I’m hoping I’m wrong.