Foundation for Three (9 page)

“It’s not your fault, man.”

“I keep telling myself that, but it’s not working. I swear we tried everything to revive him, but couldn’t.” What sounded like a fist hit the table. “I was in charge of that little boy. I might have been able to save him if I’d been more careful.”

Wow
. Maybe Zoey had let Kara’s comments color her opinion of the man. He seemed truly distraught.

“How did the team react? You had a ton of people assisting you. Didn’t any of them claim responsibility?”

Carson huffed out a laugh. “You would ask. Kara actually went ballistic on me. Said I wasn’t focused. Shit, man. She’s my fucking assistant. She was supposed to pay attention, too.” He drew in a deep breath that sounded closer to a sob. “The bitch of it all is that I couldn’t even get mad at her. She was right. I fucked up.”

Silverware scraped across plates and cups clanked on the table. “Other than her outburst, is she still calling you night and day?”

There was a pause, almost as if Carson wanted to think about his response. “Yeah. It’s fucking pissing me off. I told Kara to stop contacting me, but she refuses. If I thought it would do any good, I’d go to HR myself and tell them she came on to me and that she won’t leave me alone.”

Zoey was stunned. None of his sentiments matched what Kara had said. It was almost as if he was speaking about another assistant named Kara.

“Harassment doesn’t seem to work in the opposite direction, but it will get better,” Thompson said. “You remember Belinda, from two years ago?”

“That the nurse in your office?”

“Yes. She tried to ruin me because I didn’t want a monogamous relationship. Fuck that. I’m glad she couldn’t make anything stick. Women think because I’m a surgeon that I’m fair game.”

“She’s gone, right?” Carson asked.

“Hell, yeah. That took work. Trust me.”

The conversation turned to football and Zoey suddenly needed to leave. Heavy pressure sat on her chest, and confusion swamped her. Dr. Carson truly appeared to be upset over the loss of the boy. Had Kara been harassing her boss instead of the other way around? Did Carson’s attempts to turn her down gently make Kara believe he loved her? It wouldn’t be the first time one of Zoey’s patients had been delusional.

Only one way to find out. Investigate within the confines of her oath.

*     *     *

Zoey had told Thad she’d drive him home tomorrow, but she wasn’t sure when that would be, so she asked Rachel to reschedule all of her next day’s appointments, except for her eight o’clock. She doubted Thad would be released before nine.

After she finished with her last patient, Zoey headed home. All she wanted to do was kick back with a nice glass of white wine, watch some television, and forget all about Dr. Avery Carson and the continuing drama with Kara Molloy. But damn it. Zoey couldn’t figure out why he and Dr. Thompson had to sit right behind her and speak so loudly. She’d heard every word they’d said. All she could think of was that Kara must have let it slip that she was seeing Zoey. Even if Kara had told Avery about the sessions, she’d never have mentioned they were about him.

God. Zoey’s head pounded. She had no proof that either party was being completely honest, but with everything that had happened in the last two days, her mind couldn’t stop spinning. She needed a break.

As soon as her house came into view, she let out a breath. Home sweet home. Once she was inside, she poured a glass of white wine then plopped on the sofa and leaned back her head. Within seconds her pulse slowed, and the tightness around her temples began to ease.

She closed her eyes, picturing the kind of meal she wanted to prepare this Friday. Cooking had always acted as her stress reliever. If she had the energy, she might even invite a few friends over. Then on Saturday, she’d go out with Thad. When she thought about what was coming up, she was really excited.

Just as Zoey stretched out on the sofa and picked up the television remote, her cell rang. Her pulse raced. Was it Pete? Or Thad? She set down her wine and checked her phone. It was Courtney. When her younger sister called, it was usually because something bad had happened to her love life. They only lived five hours away, but there never seemed to be enough time in Courtney’s day for a visit.

“Courtney? You okay?”

“Zoey?” The worry in her sister’s voice tore at her.

“What’s wrong, sweetie?”

“I left Robbie.” The desperation and sadness in her sister’s tone broke Zoey’s heart.

“Tell me what happened. I want to hear everything.” Zoey picked up her glass and sipped her drink while she listened to the series of events that led to the breakup.

For over half an hour, she and Courtney discussed Robbie’s inappropriate behavior. Zoey agreed with her sister. No man should ever hit a woman.

“I know it’s for the best,” Courtney said, “but it’s hard.”

“I know, and I’m sorry, but things will look better tomorrow.”

Courtney sniffled. “Maybe. Why do I keep attracting the same type of man—one who’s emotionally unavailable? I can’t seem to break the pattern.”

Zoey was impressed that Courtney seemed to understand the complicated topic of unavailability. “We’ve talked about these types of toxic men before. Changing one’s mindset is never easy.”

“Do you think you could give me some ways to tell if he’s the violent type from the get go?”

Being needed helped revive Zoey. “I’d be happy to, sweetie.”

She and Courtney discussed what things the next man might say, do, or demand from her that would be a red flag.

“You rock, sis. I’ll certainly give those a try. But enough about me. What’s going on with you? You’ll never find happiness if you don’t give men a chance.”

Zoey smiled. “I think that was some of the advice I gave you.” Courtney’s chuckle bolstered Zoey’s spirits.

“You’re lucky.”

“How so?” Zoey asked.

“At least you’ll be able to spot the bad ones.”

That lightened the mood. “Like I did with Rich and Dave?” Zoey had been so sure they were the two perfect men. Boy, had she been wrong.

“We all need practice.”

Zoey loved talking with her sister. The pounding in her head had disappeared. “I think you’ve been listening to me too much.” Zoey often preached that Courtney just had to keep looking, and she’d find Mr. Right.

“So, what about you?” Courtney asked.

Clearly, her sister wasn’t going to let up. “I met someone.”

As was her intention, Courtney squealed. “You went out on a date?”

“Not exactly a date.” She explained that Pete was the owner of the construction company she’d hired to do some renovations. “He’d been finishing up on the remodel when I came home early one day.” Given Courtney’s state of mind, Zoey wouldn’t mention the shooting, which was why she didn’t tell Courtney about the upcoming date with Thad. “Pete was cleaning the bathtub when I walked in.”

“Ooh. He sounds yummy. But he does the labor himself?” Zoey inwardly chuckled at the snobbish tone. It wasn’t Courtney’s fault. It was how they’d been raised.

“Only when he’s needed to fill in. That’s what good managers or owners do. He went to college, so back off, sister.” Zoey laughed.

“Okay. Tell me more.”

She mentioned Pete was from Rock Hard and had a business partner who’d left for a few years but had returned. “We just talked about, I don’t know, stuff. I like him. He’s nice.”

“When is this hot date?”

“Not sure, but I’ll let you know when he asks.” She still couldn’t tell if Pete was even interested. All he’d seen was a woman who’d broken down on him.

“When he does ask you out, try to have some fun. And for God’s sake, don’t do your psychobabble shit on him.”

Psychobabble shit? Ouch. “Don’t worry. I know how to act with a man.” Not really, but a lecture was the last thing she needed—especially with everything going on in her head.

“Not even close, sis. Oh. One more thing. I know you’re old and shit, but this isn’t the nineteen forties. Women have been liberated. They vote now. They even ask men out.” Zoey would have commented had her sister taken a breath. “You can, and probably should be the aggressor in bed. Men like that. Doormats are passé. Don’t slap his hand if he wants some action.”

Her mouth opened. If she followed all of Courtney’s advice, she might end up like her sister—alone and unhappy. At least Zoey was only alone. “I’m not a prude. Don’t forget Mark and Dave.”

“Two men do not a party girl make.”

Zoey didn’t want to be a party girl. “There were others.” Just not memorable ones. Zoey wanted to be open-minded. Was Courtney right? Her sister’s concern might have merit, but she’d think about it later.

“Hey. Someone’s at my door, Zoe.” Zoey hadn’t heard anyone knock, but Courtney could have been in the bedroom. “Thanks for listening. As always.”

“Love you,” Zoey said.

“Back at you.” Then her sister hung up.

Zoey smiled. Talking with Courtney did her soul good, but it also made her realize how much she missed having someone to confide in.

While Zoey finished off her glass of wine she let her mind drift to what she wanted in life. Was she looking for something permanent? She was only thirty-two, but there were times when she wanted to have someone to dream about and have him dream about her right back. Maybe she did have things backward. Expecting the man to ask her out might be old-fashioned, but she wasn’t aggressive by nature.
I asked Thad out. Why not Pete?

Because she wanted to be certain of the consequences before she acted. For now, she’d pick up Thad tomorrow morning and have no expectations other than to help him with whatever he needed. She wouldn’t worry about Saturday night.

Good luck with that, girl.

Chapter Eight

T
he next morning around eleven, Zoey’s cell rang. As soon as she saw it was Thad, her nerves skyrocketed. It was stupid to be nervous. All she was doing was giving a friend a ride home. She inhaled, ran her palms down her thighs, and then answered with as cheery a voice as she could muster. “Donovan’s taxi service. How may I help you?” Normally, she didn’t do something this spontaneous, but she felt like it this time. Maybe the “incident” had made her see just how fragile life could be.

Thad chuckled and the tension in her muscles released. “It’s Thad Dalton.” Ooh, he sounded so formal and in control. Healthy now.

He had to know she recognized him by the caller ID and by the way she’d answered. “Are you ready to go home?”
There
. She sounded more like herself, instead of a giddy schoolgirl.

“Yup. All cleared and paperwork done. If I can convince you to give me a lift, I’d appreciate it. I’m downstairs by the front hospital entrance.”

“Be right there.” After she informed Rachel that her return for the day was questionable, Zoey rushed to the lobby to meet Thad. Other than when she’d been in the ER, she hadn’t taken a day off in months. It was rather freeing. Maybe that was what caused her light-hearted behavior.
Stop it
. She wished she didn’t always analyze her every thought. Even Zoey knew it wasn’t healthy.

As soon as she stepped off the elevator, she caught sight of Thad standing a few feet away from an empty wheelchair. He was quite handsome in his civilian clothes, and his unshaven face gave him a kind of bad boy chic. The bullet hole and bloodstains must have ruined his police uniform shirt, which would explain his different attire. If Pete had brought his clothes, he’d forgotten Thad’s boots. He still had on his black laced-up cop shoes, which looked out of place with his worn jeans.
He’s still cute
. Thad’s arm was in a blue sling, but she bet he wouldn’t keep it on for long. He seemed the type to chafe under confinement.

“Hey,” she said as she neared. He swung around and smiled. She didn’t want to feel that zing of attraction, but it came nonetheless.

He studied her for a moment, looking like he was trying to decide whether to ask her something or not. His weight shifted. “It’s close to noon, and I’m hunkering for a big juicy burger worse than anything. Mind if we stop at Red Robin on the way home? My treat.” His brows rose.

This isn’t a date.
It made sense he’d ask her to lunch. He’d mentioned his need for good food, and she was his only way to get it. “Sounds great.”