The Lonely Hearts Club (34 page)

“It feels like three years,” Liz said.

“Trouble?” Bren asked. “You looked upset on the phone.”

“That was Julia.” Liz nodded to the waitress and gave her her order without looking at the menu.

“What did super bitch want?” Candace snarled.

“To move home. Can you believe that?” Liz noticed that Candace wore jeans and a T-shirt, and not her usual power suit. She was also drinking what looked like iced tea. Liz wondered if she was mellowing or just not awake yet.

“Actually,” Bren said, “I can believe it. I’m surprised it took her this long.”

“To do what?” Candace asked.

“Come to her senses.” Bren took a bite of her turkey club. “I would have given her new romance about six weeks to fizzle.”

“I think for the first six months it was too hot for that,” Liz said, noting with satisfaction that it didn’t bother her any longer to think of Julia and some young college kid rolling around in a dorm room or hotel or wherever they had been trysting. Wherever and whatever, she just didn’t care. “At any rate, I told her no.”

“Well,” Candace huffed, “I should think so.”

“Does this have anything to do with Reilly?” Bren asked.

Liz thought about it. “Yes and no. If I hadn’t met Reilly, I still wouldn’t want Julia to come back. It’s wrong for me, it’s wrong for the baby—hell, it’s even wrong for Julia.”

“Julia is an ungrateful bitch who never deserved you,” Candace stated.

Liz reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “Thank you.”

“So what about Reilly?” Candace said, examining Liz intently.

“Reilly is still something of a question mark,” Liz said slowly. “We haven’t talked about some really important things.” She patted her stomach. “Like this, for example.”

“But,” Bren said, “you
have
been doing a little more than talking, haven’t you?”

Liz felt her face flush. “Does it show?”

Bren laughed. “It’s been showing even before you did anything about it.”

“You slept with her,” Candace said, making it a statement and not a question.

“I did.” Liz grinned. “I most definitely did.”

Candace drained her iced tea and carefully set the empty glass down. “Well, good for you.”

“Ditto,” Bren added.

“Thank you,” Liz said, looking from one to the other. “You’re not going to lecture me?”

Candace rolled her eyes. “Like it would make a difference.”

“It might.” Liz twirled the straw in her drink.

“No, it wouldn’t,” Candace and Bren said together.

“No, it wouldn’t,” Liz agreed.

“Well,” Candace said. “Tell us. She has got to be at least as good as she looks.”

“I…” A montage of images raced through Liz’s mind. Kisses, touches, whispered murmurs of pleasure. Reilly’s hands, her mouth, her body moving against Liz’s. Waking to the heat of Reilly’s skin, to the softness of Reilly’s breasts against her back, to the gentle sigh of her breath. “She’s beautiful.”

Candace, her blue eyes wide and dark, stared at Liz. “I’ve never seen you look like this before.”

“Like what?”

“Like you were in love.”

“Oh, no, that’s not it,” Liz said hastily. Love was such a big word, such a life-changing emotion. She wasn’t sure she could handle that and all that was in store for her with the baby, too. And what about Reilly? Was she really looking for a relationship that came with so many strings attached? Needing some distance from the swirl of conflicting feelings that just thinking about Reilly stirred, she grinned at Candace. “Besides, I was pretty gone over you.”

“Uh-huh. True. But we were young and in lust and what did we know?”

“We knew plenty.” Liz looked from Candace to Bren. “We knew, all of us, what we had with each other.”

“Stop,” Bren said, “I’m not even pregnant and I want to cry.”

“Yeah, seriously,” Candace said gruffly. “Just be careful with your heart, okay?

“I’ll try.” Liz turned to Bren. “So what about you? What’s happening with your sexy mystery lover?”

“Nothing,” Bren said, which was true, although not the entire story. Jae had emailed her the night before.
I imagine lying on a bed, my hands and legs bound. You’re kneeling above my mouth, and I make you come.

“Are you done with her then?” Candace asked curiously.

“I haven’t decided. I only know I’m not done thinking about her.”

Candace sighed. “I don’t know how I ever missed how sexy you are.”

Bren blushed. “I think you’re talking about Melanie.”

“Her too.”

Candace bumped Bren’s knee with hers. Liz watched the exchange with interest, wondering what she’d missed in the last few weeks.

“I think you should save your energy for Parker,” Bren said, wanting to divert Candace’s attention from her. Candace was the kind of woman whose first response was visceral, her affections so easily translated into attraction. It was one of the things Bren loved about her, but she knew it would take a player of equal stature to handle Candace, and she wasn’t that woman. Her games were of a different nature.

“Parker. Parker is off the table.” Candace briefly informed them of her last conversation with Parker. “So, Parker has suddenly decided she doesn’t want to play.”

Bren shook her head. “You read those signals wrong. She just wants to play another game.”

“I don’t play unless I make the rules.”

“Uh-huh,” Bren said disbelievingly. “So you’ll just quit?”

“Parker’s call, not mine,” Candace said flatly.

“I’d say she tossed out a pitch and is waiting for you to hit it back,” Liz said.

“Spare me the baseball analogy,” Candace groaned.

Laughing, Liz looked at her watch. “I’ve got to get back. Are we getting together this weekend? Maybe dinner?”

“Absolutely,” Bren said.

“Sure,” Candace said absently, as if her mind were elsewhere.

Liz paid for the three of them and they walked out together.

“Where are you parked,” Liz asked her friends.

“I took the subway,” Candace said.

“I’m in a lot across from the hospital,” Bren replied as they reached the corner.

“Good,” Liz said, glancing up at the light. It was green and she started to cross. “We can walk that way together then.”

“So,” Candace said, “is Parker in the office to—”

“Liz!” Julia called sharply, appearing out of nowhere. She grabbed Liz’s arm and tugged her to a stop in the middle of the street.

“Julia!” Liz exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, if you won’t agree to meet me, I’ll just have to track you dow—”

At the screech of tires, Liz shot a startled glance at the light just as it changed from green to yellow. A red pickup truck careened around the corner into the intersection, trying to outrun the red light. Julia, whose back was to the oncoming vehicle, said something Liz couldn’t hear.

“Look out,” Liz shouted. She grabbed Julia’s arm and yanked her around, pushing her toward the opposite curb and safety all in one motion. As she did, something struck her hip and she catapulted into Julia. She and Julia landed in a heap on the ground.

Amidst the screams, Liz tried to make sense of what had just happened. The sky overhead was brilliantly blue, and fluffy white clouds moved lazily across her view. Then the idyllic scene disappeared, and Julia’s face came into focus.

“Oh my God, are you all right?” Julia looked panicked.

Liz found that odd. Julia never lost her composure, even in the midst of an argument. Next to her, Candace and Bren’s faces appeared, both looking terrified. A bearded man, his eyes wild, grabbed her hand.

“Lady! Jesus, lady. Jesus. I’m sorry. Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine,” Liz said, pushing herself up. Her arms were shaky but she felt all right. A little numb, maybe. “Really. I think I just tripped.”

“Are you sure?” Bren asked anxiously. “Just sit for a minute. You landed awfully hard.”

Liz saw Bren glance at Candace, and their obvious fear spurred her into motion. Gripping Bren’s shoulder, she pushed to her feet. “Really, I’m absolutely fine.”

The wave of dizziness came so quickly she didn’t even have time to be frightened. As she felt herself falling, she clutched Bren’s arm.

“Call Reilly,” she whispered.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

“Nice case, Reilly,” Clint Marcum, one of Reilly’s associates, said as they headed down the hall toward the main OR desk.

“Thanks.” Reilly pulled off her sweat soaked OR cap and tossed it along with her mask into a trashcan. “Maybe we’ll stay caught up for a few hours.”

“Yeah right.”

“Hey, you never know. We could get lu—”

“Dr. Danvers,” the young clerk who handled the phones in the office called. “I was just going to phone down to your room when I saw you were finishing up. The operator took a message. She said it was urgent.”

“Aren’t they all,” Reilly muttered. She’d been in the OR since seven that morning with a 16-year-old who had been med-evaced in after he had flipped his all-terrain vehicle and crushed his pelvis. Once they’d finally gotten the hemorrhage stopped, she’d had to stabilize the major undamaged bone fragments with pins and screws and then apply an external fixater. He’d be in bed for the foreseeable future, but he’d likely walk again. She was hot, tired, and hungry. Nevertheless, she held out her hand for the pink message slip. All it said was
Call Bren. Urgent.
And a number.

“I’ve got to get this, Clint,” Reilly said as she grabbed the wall phone, her stomach knotting. There was only one emergency she could think of, and she couldn’t let her imagination go there. Nothing had happened to Liz. She wouldn’t be able to handle it if anything had.

“Sure,” Clint said, giving her a curious look. “Catch you later.”

Reilly waved absently as she waited for the operator, gripping the receiver so tightly her hand ached. “Hi, it’s Dr. Danvers. I need an outside number right away.” She read the phone number off the message, feeling sick and unable to keep her mind from bombarding her with images she couldn’t avoid seeing. Annie, so pale and still. Liz, warm and vibrant and so wonderfully passionate. The phone rang once, twice, three times, four—just as she expected voicemail to kick in, a breathless voice answered.

“Hello?”

“Bren, it’s Reilly. What’s wrong?” Reilly braced her arm against the wall and shut her eyes.
Please don’t tell me she’s hurt. Please don’t say—

“Oh, Reilly, sorry. I had to run outside to answer my cell phone. God, I’m glad I didn’t lose you. We’re down in the ER with Liz.”

A sheet of ice slid through Reilly’s gut. “What happened?”

“We’re not sure. She either fainted or fell or maybe got hit by a car. We—”

“I’m on my way.”

Reilly slammed the receiver back onto the phone, punched the automatic door opener controlling the double doors leading into the OR from the hallway, and raced through them before they were barely open wide enough to accommodate her body. She didn’t even look in the direction of the elevators, but shoved through the fire door and took the stairs from the third floor down to ground level two at a time. It was a trip she had taken many times, but never filled with fear so suffocating she couldn’t draw a full breath. She dodged stretchers, shouldered around groups of nurses, med students, and visitors and cut across the paths of technicians pushing equipment as she sprinted down the corridor to the emergency room. The ER waiting room was on the opposite side of the hallway from the main receiving area, but she didn’t glance in that direction. Bren and Candace were most likely in there, and assuredly frantic, but she needed to see Liz. She had to get to Liz. She made a sharp left into the controlled chaos of the ER and raced up to the counter where a clerk sat surrounded by stacks of charts and paperwork.

“Liz Ramsey,” Reilly said breathlessly, scanning the whiteboard behind the clerk where patients’ names and status were written. She didn’t see Liz’s name, but she might have just arrived. “Where is she?”

The harried looking middle-aged woman in a flowered smock frowned. “I don’t think we’ve got anybody waiting for ortho, Doc. But if you want to look at a few with colds or bellyaches, we’ve got plenty of—”

“She’d be an MVA or maybe an OB emergency—she’s pregnant.” Reilly barely resisted grabbing a pile of charts and rifling through them.

“Oh, that must be the one we just called Dr. Thompson about. Let me see.” The woman sorted through a stack of intake forms with maddening slowness. “I think she’s in cubicle eight—no, nine.”

“Thanks,” Reilly called, already in motion. She slowed when she approached the curtain, not wanting to startle Liz or interrupt an examination. Still, her heart was pounding so hard her chest hurt and her hand shook when she pulled back the curtain.

Liz wore a white hospital gown covered with faded blue stars and lay on a stretcher with an IV running into her left hand. She turned her head as Reilly stepped into the small cubicle.

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