by Robin Gianna
“All right. Perry’s travel arrangements are being finalized this minute, so he’ll be there soon.”
Somehow, he managed to finish fixing Charlotte’s dinner while he dialed the airline, relieved to find he could be out of there at the crack of dawn tomorrow.
He set her food on the table, placed two pain tablets next to it and forced himself to go into the parlor. The smile she sent him across the room felt like a stab wound deep into his heart. “Dinner’s on the table. Come eat, then take your pills.”
As she passed through the kitchen doorway, he stepped back, not wanting to touch her. Knowing a touch would hurt like a bad burn, and he’d been scorched enough.
“Where’s yours?” She looked at him in surprise, her pretty, lying lips parted.
He’d play the part she’d once accused him of, so she wouldn’t know he knew the truth. So she wouldn’t know how much it hurt that she’d used him. That the pain went all the way to the core of his very essence, leaving a gaping hole inside.
It seemed like a long time since she’d told him he was full of himself and famous for kissing women goodbye with a smile and a wave. He’d do it now if it killed him.
“Colleen Mason just called to tell me I have a plane reservation in the morning, that I’ve been given the all-clear,” he said, somehow managing a fake smile.
She sank onto the kitchen chair, staring. “What? I don’t understand. I don’t have... Perry Cantwell’s not... I mean, that can’t be right.”
“It is. My vacation’s been delayed long enough, and I’m meeting a...friend...in Florence.” He leaned down to brush his lips across hers, and was damned if the contact wasn’t excruciating. “It’s been great being with you. But you know how I feel about long goodbyes, so I’ll get out of here.”
“But, Trent. Wait. I—”
“Take care of that arm.” He turned and moved quickly to the door, unable to look at her face. To see the shock and despair and, damn it, the tears in her eyes. To know her dismay had nothing to do with him and everything to do with her precious hospital.
The thought came to him that he was running again. Running from pain, disillusionment and deep disappointment. And this time he knew he just might be running for the rest of his life.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHARLIE LAID HER head on her desk because she didn’t think she could hold it upright for one more minute.
In barely forty-eight hours, her life had gone to ruin, and no amount of hard work and positive attitude was going to fix it.
She’d been a fool to think there had been any possibility of her relationship with Trent Dalton becoming anything bigger than a fling. It’d been foolish to allow her feelings to get out of control. To allow the connection she felt to him to grab hold of her—a connection that had bloomed and deepened until she could no longer deny the emotion.
She thought she’d seen that he felt it too. Had seen it in his eyes; seen it in the way he cared for her when she’d been hurt; seen it through his kisses and his touch.
Then he’d walked out. One minute he was sweetly there, the next he was kissing her goodbye with a smile and a wave, just like the first time. But, unlike the first time, he’d taken a big chunk of her heart with him.
How could she have been so stupid? She’d known all along it could never be more than a fling. Had known he was right, when he’d come back, that they should keep their relationship platonic—because, as he’d so eloquently said, second goodbyes tended to get messy.
Messy? Was that the way to describe how he’d left? It seemed like their goodbye had been quite neat and tidy for him.
Anger burned in her stomach. Anger that she’d let herself fall for a man who’d never hidden that he didn’t want or need roots. Anger that the pain of his leaving nagged at her far more than the physical pain of her torn and stitched-up arm.
And of course, practically the minute he’d moved on, the Gilchrist rep had shown up. He’d been impressed with the wing but, gosh, there was this little problem of there not being a doctor there. She’d hoped the photographs of Trent’s work would help, but of course it hadn’t. After all, the man was long gone, and they’d made their requirements very clear.
A quiet knock preceded the door opening and Charlie managed to lift her head to look at John Adams, swallowing the lump that kept forming in her throat.
“I’m guessing things didn’t go well,” he said as he sat in the chair across from her.
“No. The Gilchrist Foundation can’t justify giving us the check without meeting all their requirements. Which I knew would happen.”
“What are you going to do?”
Wasn’t that a good question? What was she going to do to keep the hospital open? What was she going to do to mend her broken heart? What was she going to do to move past the bitterness and regret that was like a burning hole in her chest?
“I don’t know. I have to crunch the numbers again, see what can be eliminated from the budget. Lay off a few employees. See if any of the other donors I’ve approached will come through with something.” Though nothing could come close to what Gilchrist had offered. To what the hospital needed.
“There is the money the anonymous donor gave the school.” John Adams looked at her steadily. “I can put off hiring another teacher, hold off on some of the purchases we made.”
“No.” She shook her head even as the suggestion was tempting. “Whoever donated that money gave it to the school. It wouldn’t be right to use it for the hospital. I’ll figure something out.”
“All right.” John Adams stood and gently patted her head, as though she were Patience. “I’m sorry about all this. And sorry about Trent leaving. I’ve got to tell you, that surprised me. Especially since it was right after he’d told me he was staying.”
“He told you he was staying?”
“He did. After he was irritated with you being in the hospital when you were supposed to be resting.”
And his caring for her through all that was part of what had made her fall harder for him. “Well, he obviously didn’t mean it the way most people would. Staying the night is probably what that word means to him.” She tried to banish the acrid and hurt tone from her voice. After all, she’d known the reality. Regret yet again balled up in her stomach that she’d allowed herself to forget it.
* * *
Trent walked beneath the trees in Central Park to his parents’ Fifth Avenue apartment on Manhattan’s Upper East Side. He breathed in the scents of the city, listened to children playing in the park and the constant flow of traffic crowding the street and looked at the old and elegant apartment buildings that lined the streets.
It didn’t seem all that many years ago since he’d been a kid roaming these streets, not realizing at the time how different growing up here was from the average kid’s childhood in suburbia. But it had been great too, in its own way, especially when your family had wealth and privilege enough to take advantage of everything the city offered and the ability to leave for a quieter place when the hustle got wearying.
His mother had been more hands-on than most of the crowd his parents were friends with, whose full-time nannies did most of the child-rearing. He’d appreciated it, and how close they’d been, believing that the bond she shared with her only child was special to her.
Until she’d lied and betrayed him. The memory of that blow still had the power to hurt.
He thought of how his mother had tried to reach out to him during the years since then. She’d kept tabs on wherever he was working, and each time he moved on to a new mission hospital a Gilchrist Foundation donation immediately plumped their coffers. She’d sent him a Christmas card every year, with updates on what she and his dad were doing, where they’d traveled, asking questions about his own life. Questions he hadn’t answered. After all, what he wanted to do with his life
hadn’t interested her before, so he figured it didn’t truly interest her now.
She’d been shocked and seemingly thrilled to get his phone call that morning and he wondered what it would be like to see her after all this time. A part of him dreaded it. The part of him that still carried good memories wanted, in spite of everything, to see how she was. Either way, the need at the Edwards hospital was what had driven him here. Not for Charlotte—for all the patients who would have nowhere to go if the place shut down.
“Mr. Trent! Is that you? I can’t believe it!” Walter Johnson pumped his hand, a broad smile on the old doorman’s face.
“Glad to see you’re still here, Walter.” Trent smiled, thinking of all the times the man had had his back when he’d been a kid. “It’s been a long time since my friends and I were causing trouble for you.”
“You just caused normal boy trouble. Kept my job interesting.” Walter grinned. “Are your parents expecting you? Or shall I ring them?”
“My mother knows I’m coming. Thanks.”
The ornate golden elevator took him to his family’s fourteen-room apartment and he drew a bracing breath before he knocked on the door. Would she look the same as always? Or would time have changed her some?
The door opened and his question was answered. She looked lovely, like she always had. Virtually unchanged—which wasn’t surprising, considering his dad was a plastic surgeon and there were all kinds of cosmeceuticals out there now to keep wrinkles at bay. Her ash-blonde hair was stylishly cut and she wore her usual casual-chic clothes that cost more than most of his patients made in a year.
“Trent!” She stepped forward and he thought she was going to throw her arms around him, but she hesitated, then grasped his arm and squeezed. “It’s just...wonderful to see you. Come in. Tell me about yourself and your life and everything.”
Sunlight pouring through the sheer curtains cast a warm glow upon the cream-colored, modern furnishings in the room as they sat in two chairs at right angles to one another. One of her housekeepers brought coffee and the kind of biscuits Trent had always liked, and he felt a little twist of something in his chest that she had remembered.
“My life is good.” Okay, that was a lie, right off the bat. His life was absolute crap and had been ever since he’d found out Charlotte had lied to him, that their relationship had been, for her at least, a means to an end and nothing more.
For the first time in his life, he’d fallen hard for a woman. A woman who was like no one he’d ever met before. Had finally realized, admitted to himself, that what he felt for Charlotte went far beyond simple attraction, lust or friendship with benefits.
And, just as he’d been ready to find out exactly what all those feelings were and what they meant, he’d been knocked to the ground by the truth and had no idea how he was going to get back up again.
“We’ve...we’ve missed you horribly, Trent.” His mother twisted her fingers and stared at him through blue eyes the same color as his own. “I know you were angry when you left and I understand why. I understand that I was wrong to do what I did and I want to explain.”
“Frankly, Mom, I don’t think any explanation could be good enough.” He didn’t want to hash it out all over again. It was history and he’d moved on. “I’m not here to talk about that. I’m here to ask you a favor.”
“Anything.” She placed her hand on his knee. “What is it?”
“I’ve been working at the Edwards hospital in Liberia. They’d applied to you, to the Gilchrist Foundation, for a large donation to build and open a plastic surgery wing.”
She nodded. “Yes. I’m familiar with it. In fact, I just received word that we won’t be providing the donation now because they didn’t meet the criteria.”
“They’re doing good work, Mom, and use their money wisely. I performed some plastic surgeries there and saw how great the need is. I’d appreciate it if you would still give them the donation.”
“You did plastic surgery there?” She looked surprised. “Last time I spoke with you, when you stormed out of here, you told me that wasn’t what you wanted to do. What changed your mind?”
“I haven’t changed my mind. I didn’t want to join the family practice doing facelifts and breast implants. I wanted to use my surgical skills to help children. But I’ve realized that I can do both.”
“Are you working at the Edwards hospital full-time now? Permanently?”
“No.” He’d never go there again, see Charlotte Edwards again. “It was time to leave. But I know they’re getting a surgeon as soon as they can. I’d appreciate you giving them the funding check, which will help the rest of the hospital too. The people there need it.”
“All right, if it’s important to you, I’ll get it wired out tomorrow.”
“Thank you. I’m happy that, this time, what’s important to me matters to you.” Damn it, why had that stupid comment come out of his mouth? She’d agreed to do as he asked. The last thing he wanted was for her to change her mind, or dredge up their past.
“Trent.” He looked at her, and his gut clenched at the tears that swam in her eyes. “Anything that’s important to you is important to me. I know you don’t want to hear it, but I’m telling you anyway—why I did what I did.” She grabbed one of the tiny napkins that had been served with the coffee and dabbed her eyes. “When I went to college, all I wanted was to be a doctor. To become a plastic surgeon like my father and join his practice. I studied hard in college, and when I applied to medical schools I got in. But my father said no. Women didn’t make good doctors, he said, and especially not good surgeons. I couldn’t be a wife and mother and a surgeon too and needed to understand my place in our social strata.”
He stared at her, stunned. It didn’t surprise him that his autocratic grandfather could be such a son-of-a-bitch. But his mother wanting to be a doctor? He couldn’t wrap his brain around it. “I don’t know what to say, Mom. I had no idea.”
“So I married your dad and he joined the practice. Filled my life with my philanthropy, which has been rewarding. And with you. You were...are...the most important thing in my life. Until I messed everything up between us.” The tears filled her eyes again and he was damned if they didn’t send him reaching to squeeze her shoulder, pat her in comfort, in spite of everything.
“It’s all right, Mom. It was a long time ago.”
“I want you to understand why, even though there’s no excuse, and I know that now.” Her hand reached to grip his. “I just wanted you to have what I couldn’t have. I wanted that for you, and couldn’t see, because of my own disappointment from all those years ago, that it was for me and not for you. That I was being selfish, instead of caring. I’m so very, very sorry and I hope someday you can forgive me. All I ever wanted was for you to be happy. You may not believe that, but it’s true.”
He looked at her familiar face, so full of pain and sadness. The face of the person who had been the steadiest rock throughout his life, until the moment she wasn’t.
He thought about the fun they’d had when he was growing up, their adventures together, her sense of humor. He thought about how she’d always been there for him, and for his friends too, when most of their parents weren’t around much. And he thought about how much he’d loved her and realized that hadn’t changed, despite the anger he’d felt and the physical distance between them for so long.
He thought of how many times she’d tried to reach out to him through the cards she sent and through giving to the places he worked, places that were important to him.
As he stared into her blue eyes, he knew it was time to reach back.
“I do believe it, Mom. I’m sorry too. Sorry I let so many years go by before I came home. I don’t completely understand, but I do forgive you. Let’s put it all behind us now.” He leaned forward to hug her and she clung to him, tears now streaming down her face.
“Ask away.”
“Are you in love with the woman in charge of the Edwards hospital?”
He stared at her in shock. She had on her “mom” look he’d seen so many times in his life. The one that showed she knew something he didn’t want her to know. He was damned if the woman hadn’t always had a keen eye and a sixth sense when it came to her only child. “Why would you ask that?”
“Because you’ve been working in hospitals all over the world for years, and I know you donate money to them. There must be some reason you came here to see me and ask me to give the Edwards hospital the foundation money, and some reason you’re not donating your own.” She arched her brows. “If she hurt you, I’m taking back my agreement to give them the money.”
He shook his head, nearly chuckling at her words, except the pain he felt over Charlotte’s lies was too raw. “She worked hard to get the Gilchrist Foundation donation. I’d like it to come through for her and the hospital.”
“And?”
He sighed. Sitting here with her as she prodded him for information felt like the years hadn’t passed and he was a teenager again. “Yes, I’m in love with her. No, she doesn’t return my feelings.” Saying it brought to the surface the pain he was trying hard to shove down.
“How do you know? Did she tell you that?”
“She lied to me and used me. Tried to keep me there just to get your donation for her precious hospital. Not something someone does to someone they love.”
“I don’t know. I love you but I lied and made stupid mistakes. Have you told her how you feel?”
He stared at her, considering her words. Could Charlotte have done what she did and still cared about him at the same time? “No. And I’m not going to.”
“But you still love her enough to make sure she gets the donation from my foundation.”
