by Lexy Timms
An uncomfortable silence filled the room after the door closed. Her father cleared his throat as he rested his fingertips against each other. “I really appreciate you willing to take this on.”
“It’s not everyday your father turns sixty-five.” She crossed her legs and then uncrossed them. “Do you want this gala to be a dinner or just a party?” Part of her dreaded planning it, but another part really wanted to show her father how good she was at her job.
“What do you think?” His thumbs tapped a steady beat while he waited for her answer.
“Well, it all depends on how you want the evening to go. Do you want to focus on raising money for the hospital or your birthday or the fact that you are stepping down?”
“I’m not stepping down.” He straightened against the back of the chair.
Charity had to make herself resist the urge to let her eyes roll upward to the ceiling. “Okay, but from a professional standpoint, I need to know what the theme is going to be. If I don’t ask you and set the wrong theme, you are going to hate it.”
“Right. Sorry.” He relaxed his straight posture by a tenth of a degree and ran his fingers through his hair. “I built this hospital so we could be a leader in research and innovative surgeries. I plan to keep up the research end and help run the board but Dr. Bennett is the chief now. He’s good at his job.” He looked Charity directly in the eye. “Lousy at staying away from the women. Ask the nurses or first years or anyone who seems to look good in a skirt.”
Charity burst out laughing. She couldn’t help it. “Are you jealous, Dad?”
“Just warning my head-strong daughter.”
“And I wonder where I got that from.”
“Yes, well okay then.” He checked his watch and stood. “I really don’t care what you do with the evening. I’d just like the focus to be on the hospital. I figured my sixty-fifth would be a good excuse to throw it. If it makes money, great. If not, that’s fine too.”
“Sure.” She knew what he meant. He wasn’t expecting much from her. Well, she would surprise him. Six months to plan it would be tight, but if she flew up two or three weekends a month she could make it a great turnout. “What time do you want to meet at the Threaded Cork?”
“Meet? I just thought we’d drive back to the house together and go from there.”
Charity’s cheeks grew warm. “I, um, I booked a hotel room. I just thought it’d be easier for me to work and –”
“Right,” he cut her off. “I have some work here to do as well. Why don’t we aim for six o’clock then?”
“Six o’clock it is. I’ll have some ideas and check out some possible venues. We’re going to need to pick a spot as soon as we can.”
“Perfect.” He went to the door and held it open for her. “I’ll see you there.”
Charity pressed her lips together as she bent to grab her purse. Six months of being uncomfortable seemed like a prison sentence at the moment, but she owed it to her mother to make the effort.
After leaving the office, she took the stairs down to the main floor and let the cool wind soothe her face. Heading to the parking lot, she grinned when she found the Mustang. Maybe a new outfit to go with the car might be something to cheer her up. She could shop and brainstorm at the same time.
Charity turned the blow dryer off as she finished straightening her hair. She’d managed to find a simple black sleeveless dress at Michael Korrs and a pair of black shoes with just the right amount of heel to look sexy without being a stripper. She wondered how Elijah would be like outside of the hospital. She mentally kicked the thought out. Tonight’s dinner had to do with her father’s fundraiser gala. Her dress was fun but also completely business suited. Eye shadow followed by mascara and a dab of lip gloss and she was ready to go.
She stuffed her iPad into her briefcase and her jacket. It’s length matched the dress’ – perfect without even trying.
Parking downtown turned out to not be as easy. Friday night in a busy city had everyone and their neighbour looking for a parking spot. Charity drove the block around the Threaded Cork three times before getting slightly lucky and spotting a couple getting into their car. She flipped her blinker on and carefully parallel parked the car. Good thing she hadn’t gone with the higher heels as she had a few streets to walk. Tossing her keys into her purse, she stepped out and walked around the car to grab her briefcase.
Someone whistled. “Wow. That’s quite the ride.”
Elijah. The accent was hard to miss. She smiled, locked the car and turned around. “Rental place gave it to me. I honestly didn’t ask.”
“Let me get that for you.” He offered his hand and took her briefcase, slinging it over his shoulder. “You must have made quite the impression to the car clerk.”
She laughed as they started walking. “He was kinda young. You have to troll around for a parking spot as well?”
“I actually took the subway. Surgery went a bit longer than I thought, so I showered and changed at the hospital.”
She glanced down at his outfit from the corner of her eye. Black pants, fitted button up, and she caught a whiff of a delicious men’s cologne. “How did the surgery go?”
“Quite well, thank you for asking. The patient is a young woman in her early forties. She had a small hiccup while on the table but we fixed it, and her heart, in the end.” He slipped his hands into his pockets.
“You could have stayed at the hospital if you preferred.” She said it just to be polite but was more than pleased he had come. Talking to her dad over dinner on her own seemed daunting.
“And miss seeing you dressed to the nines?” He pretended to clutch his heart. “I’ll have to get mine checked out when I get back to the hospital.”
“You are really, really cheesy.” She laughed, despite the corniness.
“A bit too much?” He grinned and small lines crinkled near his eyes. The look was striking.
“It suites you,” she replied honestly.
They turned the corner and headed down the last block length to the Threaded Cork.
“So what is it your father wants to hire you to do for the hospital?”
Charity pushed the fallen strap of her purse back on her shoulder. “To be honest, I’m a bit surprised he called me. He doesn’t quite agree with my career choice.” She waved her hand, embarrassed to be sharing that information with him. “I mean, he’s turning sixty-five and since he is the Doctor Scott Thompson he knows he has to do something big with the ol’ milestone number. He’d rather make the emphasis on the hospital than him.”
“It’s a great idea.”
They reached the entrance to the Threaded Cork and Elijah handed Charity her briefcase and then held the door open for her. The outside of the building had not changed since the last time she had come. It had the old heritage appeal but painted with modernist colours and flare.
Dim inside, Tiffany lights hung above each solid table clearly showed who sat at each location. Her father was already sitting at a place near the far wall. The back of the restaurant where the bar and wine tasting area had been built was quiet. It would fill after the dinner rush.
Charity led the way to the table and Elijah pulled her chair out for her. Surprised, she managed to remember her manners and whispered, “Thanks.”
“Did you two drive together?” Her father raised a single eyebrow. How he had ever mastered that ability had always bugged Charity, even as a kid. She tried for hours to make only one brow go up.
“I drove.” “I took the subway.” Elijah and Charity spoke at the same time and then laughed.
“We met just outside,” Charity added.
The waitress came by with three wine glasses and two bottles of wine; one red and one white.
“I took the liberty to order a bottle of each,” her father said as he looked at the menu. He smiled at the waitress. “What’s your specials tonight?”
After they ordered and filled their wine glasses Charity pulled a folder out of her briefcase. “I sco
uted a few places and we have a few options.” She flipped her iPad case open and slid through her apps until she found the one she’d set up. Tapping the screen, she slid the tablet so both men could see the hall set up. “I thought about doing the party at the hospital. You have the large gymnasium you could turn into a high school prom setting.” She suppressed a giggle when both men’s eyebrows mashed together at the same time. “Hey, it may sound cheesy but it would be a huge hit. The entire idea behind prom,” she made small circles with her hand, “what happens after prom. You know, the whole package. Laugh all you want, it will get donators giving.”
The smirk on Elijah’s face told her he liked the idea; the forced smile on her father’s told her otherwise.
She slid the tablet picture to another floor diagram. “This is the old downtown concert building. It’s heritage but has been completely revamped inside. It’s like a Phantom of the Opera kind of building. They have this amazing chandelier that was restored. It sparkles even when the lights are dimmed.” She snapped her fingers. “We could make the evening about diamonds. Make it a platinum, gold and white evening.”
Her father topped up Elijah’s and his wine glasses. “Quite the opposite of venue ideas.”
“Well you gave me next to nothing to work with so I’m using every angle to make your evening something you want.” She took a long sip of her red wine, embarrassed at her response and that her voice had risen. Elijah’s piercing blue eyes watched her intently but his face revealed nothing. “Sorry. It’s been a long, busy day and—”
“You always get a tad snappy when you’re hungry.” Her father waved his hand. “Elijah, what do you think?”
Charity glanced back and forth at the two men. She had three more possible locations. Her father had already made up his mind. He just didn’t want to admit he liked it. She knew her first choice would be a no. It had only been to throw the idea of having the gala in the hospital. Her father would have wanted to do that but it wouldn’t be the success it could be. The cheesy suggestion would turn off any thought of having it there. The other possibilities were, well, possibilities. The diamond heritage would be very classy and right up her father’s alley.
Elijah folded his hands on the table. His long fingers and smooth fingernails looked tanned against the white of the table cloth. “As much as I would love to experience an American prom, I believe the Diamond place is more suitable for your birthday.”
Charity smiled. “Agreed. What about you, Dad? I also have some other ideas.”
The waitress arrived with their dinners and set their orders in front of them.
“In lieu of your snap turning into a roar, I settle for the Diamond thing as well.” Her father set his napkin on his lap.
Inhaling the delicious aroma of roast chicken, Charity felt giddy. Possibly from the wine, the hunger, or getting her dad to agree to the location, she elbowed him lightly. “Wonder where I get that from?”
SF Chapter 6
They ate their meal with light conversation, Elijah and her dad doing most of the talking. They discussed hospital issues and a number of upcoming surgeries. A sense of wistful dreaming filled Charity. She had chosen to drop out of medical school and had absolutely no regrets, but that didn’t mean she didn’t miss it. For one millisecond she wondered if she had stayed, graduated and become a doctor, would she be sitting at this table talking with them about upcoming surgeries and post op procedures?
She poured her second glass of wine of the evening and glanced around as she savoured her first sip. The lights had dimmed and the crowd had changed to a slightly younger generation. The bar was getting busy and the noise level had risen a few notches.
“… You two stay, finish the wine. I’ll go and pay the bill.”
Charity blinked and focused back on the conversation at the table. Her father stood and rested his fingers a slight moment on her shoulders as he stepped past her.
“Can you come by the hospital tomorrow or do you have an early return?”
She nodded. Her flight didn’t leave until one p.m. “I can stop by. No problem. Thanks for dinner tonight.”
“My pleasure. It was good to see you.” He turned to Elijah. “You’ll walk her to her car?” When Elijah nodded he added, “I’ll see you at the hospital shortly.”
She shifted in her seat so she could watch her father leave. He walked straight, smiled pleasantly at the hostess as he paid the bill and disappeared out the door, never turning back to wave or glance at them. Her lips pressed tightly down. The next six months were going to be a challenge. How her mother stayed happily married to the man was beyond her understanding.
“What is it with the two of you?” Elijah’s husky voice broke through her thoughts.
Darn that accent is sexy. He’s gotta know it. Charity picked up her wine glass and took a sip. He’d probably prefer to talk about himself than the un-comings and lack of goings between her father and her. “You’re from Australia, right?”
“New Zealand,” he corrected.
“What made you decide to come to America?”
Elijah settled back in his chair. “Scholarship. Opportunity. And maybe just a little bit of running away from home.”
“Running away?” Interesting.
“My mother’s very much into the society club, the yacht club and about any other club which exhibits social status. It seemed a good time to try something new.”
Charity smiled teasingly. “Sounds pretty prestigious. I hardly doubt you needed a scholarship then.”
Elijah grinned. “It fit the part back home and it looks good when you show up in med-school as a foreigner on scholarship. You earn a bit of respect before you start.”
“Really?” She let her cheek rest against her hand and enjoyed the guilty pleasure of letting her elbow rest on the table. Her father would be cringing if he where still here. “I’d have thought it would’ve made you work harder to get the respect.” She enjoyed another sip of wine and realized she’d almost finished this glass. She had better slow down or she wouldn’t be driving home. She moved her head slightly so she could lean her chin against her palm. His back story sounded interesting. “What made you want to be a doctor?”
It didn’t seem possible but Elijah’s eyes lit up even more. “I had no idea what I wanted to do in high school.” He shrugged. “I mean, if I asked my fifteen-year-old self what my plans where, I’d have said sports. I played varsity cricket in university so I started in kinesiology. My anatomy professor in first year talked me into being on the cadaver team. The team consisted of about ten students who cut open the Jane and John Doe’s to teach the other students during class time. I was the only first year and after the ten minutes I knew it was where I wanted to be.”
“Cutting up dead people?” She hoped her forced straight face wouldn’t give her teasing away. “That’s a bit serial psychopath sounding.”
“Touché.” He laughed. “It’s weird though, it just came naturally. All of it – the dissecting, the anatomy and physiology, like my brain knew it even though my subconscious did not.”
“And you still enjoy it?”
“Every minute,” he said without hesitation.
“That’s very cool. Natural talent in medicine and surgery isn’t easy to find. No wonder my father picked you as chief.”
“Dr. Thompson is a great doctor. I’m honoured he hired me. When he said he was stepping down and wanted me to take over as chief I’d be stupid to say no. This hospital is easily one of the top ten in the country. I get to do surgeries most hospitals would never risk and surgeons can only dream of. The other thing about Scott Thompson Hospital is the atmosphere. It’s great. Everyone loves being here and that, in turn, helps the patients.” He picked up his glass. “Sorry to ramble.”
“Don’t apologize. It’s something you love.”
He clinked his glass with hers. “Cheers to that.” His elegant fingers rhythmically tapped against the rim of his glass. “I’ve been here five years now and don’t recal
l seeing you around.”
For three months six years ago I never left the place. That was before all the new construction and the renaming of the hospital to honour her father. “I’ve been by. You just probably never noticed me.”
“I’d have definitely noticed.”
She raised her eyebrows but didn’t respond. Was he flirting with her?
“How long have you been raising money for hospitals?” He shot her an innocent look. “Not to sound clueless but… I have no clue what you do or how you can make a living out of it.”
“There’s money in this. Some for me, but the best part is that I get to spend other people’s money to make more. I’ve been doing this about five or six years now. In America, Canada and England. It’s all about the money.” She couldn’t resist bantering him. “That’s my job: raising money to pay for all these new wings you doctors want. So you guys can make loads and loads more money off those one of a kind freaky surgeries.”
He pointed a mocking finger at her. “This from the girl riding a Mustang.”
“It’s a rental! They gave it to me because they rented out all the cars from the size I reserved.”
“Sure, that’s what your cover story is.” He chuckled, a husky throaty one which sent little wrinkles by the sides of his eyes. It was very pleasant to watch and listen to.
“You’re trouble.”
“That depends…” His eyes locked with hers.
She enjoyed the last bit of her wine. “On what?”
He also took a sip of wine before answering. “On what kind of trouble you are looking for.”
Charity watched him. Handsome, smooth and so definitely a womanizer. He had probably already broken strings of hearts. Should she answer his question and open the doors to a chance of mischief? Did she need that right now? Did she want it? She did but not tonight. Flirting was a safe kind of fun. She had never done the one night stand thing and setting this gala up for her father meant she’d be back and forth here and constantly running into him at the hospital. Things between her father and her were awkward enough; she didn’t need to add more to it. She pretended to check her watch.
