by Penny Reid
"Good. You're a smart girl, Miss Tisdale. You're capable of being more than my son's trophy fuck."
I feel like he just punched me in the gut. A trophy fuck? His parents are even more awful than I thought.
"Sophie?" Luke is trying to get my attention. I turn in my seat back to him. "I wanted to introduce you to one of my colleagues, Dr. New."
I shake the hand offered to me and holy crap if this guy doesn't look like he could be Henry Cavill's older brother. This lookalike appears to be a few years older than Luke, maybe forty or forty-five. I'm not attracted to him, but he's a very attractive man. I imagine Luke will only get better-looking in the next decade as well, as many men tend to do as they age.
There seems to be a comradeliness between them, as if they've been friends for years, an idea that is confirmed when Dr. New brings up Luke's golf scores from this past summer.
"Justin's daughter Michelle was just accepted at Penn," Luke tells me, then explains to Dr. New that I am graduating from Penn this spring.
I see the flash of surprise on Dr. New's face for a brief moment before he hides it. I hope I hid my surprise as well as he did. Luke's friend has a daughter only a few years younger than me. That's… weird.
"So, ah…" Dr. New pauses. "You've enjoyed Penn?"
"I love it there. I'll be sad to graduate and leave the campus."
"Oh, do you live on campus?" His eyes move to Luke and back to me. His face may not betray what he's thinking, but I can tell he's curious about Luke and I.
"I do. I live in Jacobsen." I shrug. "It's convenient being on campus and cheaper than an off-campus apartment."
"Michelle wants an off-campus apartment. I told her we'll discuss it sophomore year." Dr. New smiles ruefully. "It's bad enough I've got to let her live in a co-ed dorm, I'm sure as shit not setting her up in an apartment off campus." He shakes his head. "Tell me she will be too busy studying and the boys never leave their own floors. Lie to me, please."
I glance at Luke, remembering our tryst in my dorm room weeks ago, before fixing a smile on my face. "Well, I never had any boys in my room freshman year, Dr. New. So there's hope."
"Thank you for humoring me," he says, not realizing I'm telling him the truth. "So what are your plans after graduation?" He seems genuinely interested. Luke looks interested in my response as well. It occurs to me then that we haven't discussed my plans. We don't discuss the future at all, come to think of it. He only invited me to this event last week.
"I'm hoping to find a job in corporate accounting," I respond.
"Ah, an accounting major. Very practical."
"Exactly," I agree. "I love the practicality of accounting, both as a major and a career. I like the structure of it."
"Well, good luck on finding a position you're happy with. Lots of great companies in Philly." He pauses. "New York as well."
My eyes flick over to Luke’s at the mention of New York, but his face gives nothing away. "Yes," I agree. "Lots of job opportunities."
Dr. New leaves us then as the waiters whisk away the soup course. Luke takes my hand under the table and runs his thumb over the back of my hand. The small moment of intimacy helps calm me. I take a breath and look up to see yet another couple stopping by to say hello to Luke.
Luke introduces them to me and then the woman pulls out a cell phone from her small bag and shoves it in front of Luke.
"Julie just turned three," she beams, then leans in to swipe the screen, changing the picture on the phone in Luke's hand. "She's so smart. She loves books and robots." She laughs. "We have no idea why, but the kid loves robots."
"You might have a future scientist or astronaut on your hands," Luke says, handing the phone back.
"Another satisfied customer," I say as the couple departs and the waiters arrive with the main course.
Luke glances at me before responding. "Does that bother you?"
I shrug. "You sure get a lot of business in house."
"And?" Luke's voice has a warning to it that I don't appreciate. At all.
"And I was your patient once too."
"Sophie, enough." Luke shuts down the conversation with those two words.
I look at the meal in front of me and suddenly I'm not interested in eating. This room feels too hot and too loud and I just want out.
"Excuse me." I push back from the table and Luke stands to assist me. "I'm going to the restroom."
Luke’s jaw ticks in annoyance. That's fine, I'm annoyed with him too. I make my way past waiters and fellow guests milling about and exit the ballroom space into a hotel corridor. I sigh in relief. I was starting to feel a little queasy in that room, but I feel fine now that I'm not surrounded by a crowd. There's a women's restroom across the hall and I make a beeline for it. I just want a place to hide out for a few minutes and collect myself.
There's a pregnant woman washing her hands when I enter. I duck past her into a stall before I'm tempted to ask her if her bump is courtesy of Luke as well. I know I am behaving like a little bitch right now. I'm disgusted with myself, yet I'm still feeling just bitchy enough to refuse to go out there and apologize.
I hear the woman finish up at the sink and exit the bathroom. I'm alone now, so I figure hiding in a stall is more pathetic than necessary. I leave the safety of the stall while digging around in my clutch for the lipstick I brought with. I'm in the middle of reapplying when the bathroom door swings open and Gina breezes in.
I have to admit I'm slightly surprised to see her here. Specifically in this bathroom. I'd have thought she'd prefer to slip into my empty chair and keep Luke company while she has the chance.
"Sophie, darling!" She does a scan of the bathroom, confirming that we're alone. "You look breathtaking in that dress."
I'm confused. Is this woman bipolar? She looks stunning herself, her long red hair curled to perfection and trailing over one shoulder. She's in a platinum-colored gown, floor-length with a scoop neckline and a pear-shaped diamond pendant hanging from her throat.
"Gina." I nod in greeting.
She turns to the mirror and fingers the diamond pendant, centering it on her chest.
"That's a beautiful necklace," I compliment her. If she's being nice, I can be nice. Being catty isn't in my nature anyway. Maybe she's found someone new and I won't have to deal with her jealous behavior at these events. Assuming Luke brings me to more of them.
"Luke bought it for me," she replies and opens her own clutch.
I guess we're not done being catty. "Okay," I say and roll my eyes. This woman is something else.
She smirks at me in the mirror. "Luke bought me the nicest jewelry when we were together. I’m looking forward to seeing what he comes up with for my second engagement ring.”
I look at her for a moment. "So you're crazy then?"
She arranges her face into a pout and examines her reflection in the mirror. "That's not kind, Sophie. I don't think Luke would want you calling his patients crazy."
"I'm not. I'm calling you crazy," I say. And as I do, as the word leaves my mouth, I realize she's his patient.
Why in the ever-loving hell would he agree to treat her? I'm almost blind with rage, that's how angry I am.
"Your plan is to win him back by having him treat you for infertility?" I'm dumbfounded. How does this make sense?
I can't think straight, I'm so pissed about Luke touching her. I know he's a doctor, I know this. Encountering women at events that he's treated is weird enough, but his ex-fiancée?
"Something like that," she replies with a smug smirk.
I want to strangle this bitch with my bare hands. What's involved with fertility treatment? He's probably inseminated her. I wonder who her donor is. I'm picturing her flat on her back with her feet in stirrups and Luke between her legs.
Can I kill her with a lipstick tube? What else do I have in my clutch?
"Why is he helping you?" I'm incredulous. I know they're colleagues, but she's his ex-fiancée. Why wouldn't he refer her to another doctor?<
br />
"You don't know anything, do you?"
What don't I know? "I know Luke is leaving here with me and I know you're crazy."
"Wrong and wrong," she laughs. "I'm very fragile, Sophie, from all the fertility drugs." She actually sniffs. "And Luke will be leaving with me. In the next ten minutes."
I'm so worked up I feel queasy again. "Get out," I tell her. "Get the hell out of my sight, you crazy bitch."
"Tsk, tsk. Language, Sophie." Gina breezes out the door. She's not gone a second too soon, because tears fall down my cheeks a second later.
What is going on? What is he doing with her? I feel stupid. Left out and stupid. I've spent my limited adult life dating a man who was attracted to men, a man who wanted to film me without my consent, and Luke. Clearly my character-judging skills are off.
I grab some tissue and clean myself up. I will not have a breakdown in this bathroom. Gina's probably lying, yet things are starting to fall into place. I remember her stopping by Luke's condo the weekend after Thanksgiving in tears and Luke telling her to call his office the following week.
Forget it, I tell myself. I am not thinking of this right now. I am going back out there with a smile on my face and I'll talk to Luke about all this later.
I exit the bathroom and cross the corridor to the ballroom space and swing open the door.
I'm so disheartened with Luke right now. I don't think I know him at all. I feel… misled somehow.
I enter the ballroom while taking a deep breath. Maybe he has some social disorder that prevents him from realizing that he's wrong about Gina.
Two steps into the room I almost trip over my stilettos. Luke's seat is empty, because he's walking away, with his hand on Gina's back.
I turn around and exit the door I just came through and start walking. I'm not sure where I'm going except in the opposite direction of Luke and Gina. I have to get out of here. We arrived through an event entrance, that's the direction that Luke and Gina are walking. I'm sure I can catch a cab at the main entrance so I won't have to bump into them. I check my clutch to reassure myself that my ID and credit card are still there. I can get home with that.
I keep walking until I find my way to the main lobby of the Ritz Carlton and head straight outside for a cab, only then realizing I don't have Meredith's shawl. Luckily there's a line of cabs out front waiting for fares and the bellhop has me in one in moments.
I feel like I should cry, but I'm numb.
"Where to, miss?" the cab driver wants to know as he pulls into traffic and my cell phone starts ringing.
"Spruce and 38th," I tell him, giving him the directions to my dorm while glancing at my phone, the screen indicating a call from Luke. I hit ignore and then turn the phone off and toss it back in my bag.
Chapter 29
I bawl my eyes out in the back of that cab, big ugly tears that have the driver staring at me though the rearview mirror until I lie down on the seat so he can’t see me anymore. I'm tired. When did my life become so derailed? I'm graduating this spring with an honors degree from an Ivy League college. I am not a trophy fuck.
"Which building, miss?" the cabbie asks, turning onto Spruce.
I sit up and wipe my face with my hand. "Jacobsen, ahead on the left." I slide my credit card through the card scanner attached to the Plexiglas window separating the driver from the back seat.
I move as fast as I can on heels to the front door of Jacobsen in my short sleeveless dress, chilled instantly in just a few steps. Does this classify as a walk of shame if it's still evening? I feel conspicuous dressed like this surrounded by a sea of jeans, Uggs and down-filled jackets. My heels clicking across the lobby floor sound like gunshots to my ears. I can't wait to get to my room and replace them with comfort socks and crawl into bed.
I'm about to jab the elevator button when I catch something from the corner of my eye. Mike. He's on one of the sofas in the lobby charming a girl I know from the building. I see red. There are plenty of girls on this campus, plenty of dorms other than mine where Mike can troll for gullible girls. I can't help them all, but I can help this one.
I stomp over to the sofa intent on interrupting. "Saylor," I call out, getting the girl's attention. She's a sophomore. I've tutored her in freshman accounting.
She looks up, surprise crossing her face before being replaced with concern. I'm not sure if the concern is for me or her, since I'm a disheveled mess with mascara streaked down my face.
"Sophie, are you okay?" Saylor pushes away from Mike and scoots to the edge of the sofa closer to me.
"I'm fine," I reply, glaring at Mike. "Are you with him?"
"Oh my God, are you two together?" Saylor's head goes back and forth between us. "I thought you were available," she says to Mike.
"I am, baby," Mike replies and tries to catch Saylor's hand. "Don't listen to her. We hung out months ago, that's it."
"That's it?" I shriek, then lower my voice and address Saylor. "Mike likes to video himself having sex with different girls.” I pause. “And he has a very large collection."
A look of shock flashes across Mike's face, as if he can't believe what's coming out of my mouth. Then he turns on the charm. "Saylor, baby, don't listen to her. She's upset because I dumped her."
My jaw drops. "Should I call Paige down here? Or maybe I should just take a survey on campus?"
Saylor stands up. "Thanks, Sophie," she says, then turns to Mike. "Sorry, you're not worth this kind of drama. And I believe Sophie over you anyway. Later."
Mike turns to me as Saylor takes off with rage in his eyes. "You bitch."
"Grow up," I retort and leave him to fume by himself.
I pass the elevators for the stairs. I’d rather jog up stairs in these heels than spend another minute in the lobby with Mike. I hope that Jean is out. I want to sulk in peace and quiet. I shove open the stairwell door and start jogging up the steps, adrenaline from my confrontation with Mike fueling me. I hear the stairwell door swing open again as I’m rounding the third floor landing and look down to see Mike taking the stairs two at a time.
“Go away, Mike!” I shout behind me and increase my pace.
“I just want you to listen to me, Sophie.”
“I don’t think so!” My heart is racing so fast I'm afraid I'm going to black out. The stairwells are not used that often and I really do not want to be alone with him. I contemplate exiting onto a lower floor in the hopes of not being stuck alone with Mike, but before I can, I trip over my heels and then I'm falling.
Chapter 30
Luke's thumb is rubbing back and forth across the back of my hand. It's nice. I love it when he does that. I turn my head towards him and open my eyes.
"Sophie?"
Wait. We're not at Luke's and Luke is not in bed with me. He's sitting next to the bed, wearing scrubs. I blink my eyes as I piece together that I'm in a hospital. I remember fighting with Mike, and then nothing.
"Sophie, how do you feel?" It's Luke. He's standing now, trying to look into my eyes. I shut them.
"It's too bright," I complain. "Where am I?"
"You're at Baldwin Memorial," Luke says, as he reaches over and hits a switch on the wall, dimming the lights. A moment after that the bed is moving, adjusting me so that I'm sitting up.
"Stop, you're annoying me. I'm sleeping."
"You're awake and I need to check your pupils."
"You're a gynecologist."
"I can give you a pelvic when we're done if you like," he replies. "Open your eyes."
I do, and I notice he looks exhausted. He's got a five o'clock shadow and his eyes are red. I love the scrubs though. I've seen him in a lab coat, but never scrubs.
"My head hurts," I tell him.
"I know. Follow my finger," he says, holding it up and moving it left and right, then up and down while I follow with my eyes.
"How long was I asleep?" I ask.
"It's Sunday morning."
"I slept all night?"
"You were unconscious, not
asleep, Sophie," he says sharply as he wraps a blood-pressure cuff around my upper arm and inflates it, before unwrapping a stethoscope from around his neck. He places it on my arm and listens as the air is released from the cuff while keeping an eye on his watch. The stethoscope is turning me on so I guess I'm feeling better.
"Why is my ankle wrapped?" I say, catching sight of my leg.
"It's not broken, just sprained," he assures me. "We did an X-ray when you were brought in."
A nurse comes into the room then, moving quickly, her sneakers squeaking across the linoleum floors.
"Good morning, Sophie, we've been waiting for you to wake up. I'm Stacy, I'll be your nurse today. I need to get your vitals."
"I already did," Luke interrupts her, and takes the chart from her hands, writes something in it and hands it back to her.
Stacy looks shocked, and like she might disagree, but decides better of it. "Page me if you need anything, Dr. Miller."
"Bring me the release paperwork, please."
She pauses midstep on her way out the door. "I think Dr. Kallam wanted to see the patient first, Dr. Miller."
"Tell Dr. Kallam I'll have the patient follow up next week."
I look between them, sensing tension, but unsure of what's going on. The nurse leaves without another word and Luke turns his attention back to me.
"What do you remember?"
"I, uh…" I stall. What do I remember? "I remember you left the party with Gina."
"Really, Sophie?" He turns around and walks over to the window and stares at the shitty view from my room for a minute before turning back to me and crossing his arms across his chest. "As fascinating as your childish assumptions are, I’m more interested in how you ended up unconscious in the stairwell of your dorm."
I raise my hand and rub it over the back of my head where it made contact with something—a railing, the floor, I don't know. "He was angry at me," I begin before Luke cuts me off.
"Who was angry?"
"My ex-boyfriend, Mike. He was in the lobby when I got back to the dorm flirting with a girl who lives in my building. I interrupted them and told her what kind of guy he is. He didn't appreciate the interruption."
