Private Partners

by Gina Wilkins

  As for herself, she’d told Liam she wanted to celebrate the occasion with him at home in private, rather than braving the crowds in the local restaurants. After all, they’d just spent an evening out—and there was no need to press their luck on him not being recognized the next time.

  She would study in the morning, then take off early to cook him a special Valentine’s dinner—complete with candles and flowers and wine and a sinful dessert. It was definitely her turn to cook. She would change into the dress before sitting down at the table with him. A cozy, intimate evening for two, she thought with a smile of anticipation. Maybe she should have bought some sexy new lingerie to wear beneath the dress—not that Liam would notice. Once he had her out of her clothes, he rarely paused to admire whatever she’d worn underneath.

  As a warm feeling spread deep inside her at the thought of how nice their private Valentine’s Day celebration would be, she slid out of her car in her parking space, the new dress in its plastic covering draped over her arm.

  “Hi, Dr.—er, Anne.”

  She smiled at Rose, who held little Parker’s hand as they walked across the parking lot. Rose carried a couple of envelopes in her other hand, as if they’d just returned from a walk to the mailboxes built into a small, covered structure close to the apartment office

  “Hello, Rose. Hi, Parker. How are you today?”

  The toddler grinned at her. A smudge on his chin and a matching stain on his superhero sweatshirt suggested that he’d eaten chocolate recently. His cheeks were red from the exercise and from the brisk breeze that was beginning to blow stronger, bringing the colder temperatures that had been predicted for the next few days.

  “I saw your friend Lee an hour or so ago,” Rose commented. “He was just getting out of his car to go back up to your apartment. He’s such a nice guy. He picked up Parker and tossed him in the air a few times. Parker loved the attention. He laughed and laughed.”

  “Lee’s just a kid at heart himself,” she said, the new nickname sounding odd to her ears. She wondered where Liam had been that morning. He hadn’t mentioned plans to leave the apartment; she’d assumed he would be working all day.

  “I could tell,” Rose replied with a laugh. “He’s so funny. Parker really likes him.”

  Murmuring something noncommittal, Anne made her escape and headed up the stairs to her apartment.

  She found Liam sitting in the middle of her living room floor, surrounded by what appeared to be the parts to an assemble-it-yourself wooden bookcase. He frowned at the instruction sheet in his hand, his expression puzzled.

  “Oh, hi,” he said, glancing up from the paper when she walked in.

  “What are you doing?”

  “The shelves on the bookcase in your office are so overloaded they’re starting to sag. I went out this morning and found one that will fit on the opposite wall. I think it will look good there—if I can ever translate these instructions into English,” he added darkly. “Not sure what language this is, but it sure doesn’t make much sense.”

  “I thought you were going to work on your book today.”

  He shrugged without looking at her and reached for a shelf. “I’ll work on it while you’re studying. Just wanted to take care of this first.”

  Shaking her head, Anne went into the bedroom to hang up her new dress, saying over her shoulder, “You really didn’t have to do that. But it’s a nice gesture, anyway.”

  “I’d hate to see your other bookcase collapse,” he called after her. “The way you keep adding those thick medical books, it won’t hold much more.”

  She couldn’t help wondering if this was yet another excuse for Liam to procrastinate on his writing. Apparently he was having a hard time getting into that task. Granted, she’d never tried writing a book, but she couldn’t figure out what was holding him back. It seemed as though it should be relatively simple; he’d already written a lot of it, now all he had to do was make the changes his editor had requested and finish the rest.

  A short while later, she helped him carry the newly assembled bookcase into the office. As he’d said, the new case fit well on the opposite wall from her old one, and the style worked nicely with the room. She took a few books from the old case and arranged them on the new one, and she had to admit that it looked better not having her books so crowded together.

  “I should probably start studying,” she said, then waved a hand toward the desk that was almost buried beneath his notes and papers. “And now that you’ve taken care of my storage problem, you should start your own work. I don’t like thinking that taking care of me is keeping you from the things you need to do.”

  Liam frowned. “I’m handling it.”

  She glanced at the overflowing wastebasket beneath the desk, the many scraps of paper on which he’d scribbled an idea, then crumpled and discarded. “Looks like you’re having a little trouble. Are you sure there’s nothing I can do to help?”

  “I’m sure. Go study. I’ll start working in here.”

  Though she wasn’t entirely reassured by his tone, she nodded and left the room to make a fresh pot of coffee before diving into her material.

  For the next three hours, Anne studied without a break, looking up only to refill her coffee cup. The material was new, and therefore confusing, and it didn’t help that Liam couldn’t seem to sit still in the other room. She heard him walking around, maybe looking out the window. Twice he came through to the kitchen, muttering an apology for disturbing her. Once he got a cup of coffee, the other time a soda and a handful of grapes.

  She didn’t think he got any work done. Resting her chin in her hand when a noise distracted her again, she glanced toward the office. He’d left the door open, and she could see him sitting at the desk. He had made a game out of tossing and catching the purple beanbag cat she kept on the corner of her desk. He was probably unaware that she could see him from her chair, and probably had no clue that his restlessness was affecting her studies. It didn’t, usually.

  A few minutes later, he wandered into the room again. “Can I get you anything? Something to drink? A snack?”

  She glanced at her watch. “It will be dinnertime soon.” And she’d gotten precious little accomplished.

  “Oh, yeah. I guess you’re right. I’ll start dinner—what would you like?”

  “You don’t have to cook, Liam. We can order a pizza or something.”

  “If that’s what you’d rather have.”

  “I’m just thinking about your time. I’m sure it’s better used working than cooking.”

  His brows snapped together. “I know how to make use of my time.”

  Holding up both hands, she replied with a sigh, “Sorry. Just trying to help.”

  “Thanks, but it’s not necessary.”

  His tone was still grumpy, which should have been a cue for her to back off. But because it bothered her that he seemed to be having so much trouble with his work, she couldn’t resist offering a suggestion. “Maybe if you give yourself goals…you know, revise three pages before getting out of your chair, or try to do ten pages before calling it a day. That’s the way I organize my study time.”

  “And I’m sure that’s all very well for you, but it’s not the way I work.”

  “Yes, but—”

  “Look, I’ve got it covered, okay? Now, do you want pizza or should I cook something?”

  “I’m not hungry,” she said, deliberately opening a textbook.

  “You should eat something.”

  Her response was curt. “I don’t need you to tell me when to eat.”

  Their terse words seemed to hang in the air for a long minute. And then Liam shook his head. “This is no good. You’re stressed, I’m stressed—but we shouldn’t take it out on each other.”

  Still stinging from the tone he had taken with her, she wanted to remind him childishly that he had started it—but he was right. Snarling at each other would not help either of them.

  She nodded, but couldn’t resist adding, “I
was just trying to help. The way you’ve been helping me.”

  “I know, and I’m sorry. It’s just not going very well, you know? I’m having a hell of a time figuring out what to do with this book. I’m beginning to wonder if I’m going to be able to do this, after all.”

  His uncharacteristic expression of self-doubt dampened her anger even more. “Of course you’ll be able to do it, Liam. I have complete faith in you.”

  He sighed heavily. “Thanks, Annie. I’m sure you’re right. I’ll figure it out, eventually. It’s just been more difficult than I anticipated. I’m really sorry I’m interfering with your studying. Maybe I should just—”

  “Order a pizza,” she finished for him quickly. “With mushrooms, black olives and green peppers.”

  Nodding, he turned toward the kitchen, leaving her to return to her studies until the pizza arrived.

  Trying to focus on her notes, she chewed her lower lip. She knew what Liam had been about to say when she’d interrupted so hastily. He’d been on the verge of suggesting that he should leave, go back to New York, perhaps. And while it was probably true that she would study more easily without him here, when it came to having him say the words, she’d realized abruptly that she wasn’t ready for him to go.

  He would leave eventually, she reminded herself. He’d said from the day he’d arrived that he wouldn’t be staying long. She had even been privately relieved to hear that at the time.

  It was hard to keep his presence secret, hard to concentrate entirely on her studies while he was here and difficult for both of them to handle the stress of their careers without occasionally turning on each other. She supposed that was only normal for two people cooped up in such close quarters under such difficult circumstances.

  But she still wasn’t ready for him to leave. She wasn’t sure she would ever be entirely ready for that, no matter how diligently she tried to prepare herself. And if they reached a point where she did want him to go—what would that say about the future of their relationship?

  Anne was startled awake at three o’clock Sunday morning by the buzz of a cell phone. Groggy and disoriented, she started to fumble for her phone, then realized that Liam had already answered his own.

  He said only a few words, then she heard him end the conversation with, “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  She’d been asleep less than three hours, having turned in at just after midnight, when she’d been unable to study any longer. She pushed her hair out of her face to peer at him when he pushed back the covers and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. “Where are you going?”

  “Sorry to wake you. That was my aunt Maura.”

  She frowned. “Your father’s sister? The one in Ireland?”

  “Yes. Dungarvan.”

  “Is something wrong with your dad?”

  She heard Liam swallow before he said, “He’s had a heart attack.”

  She pushed herself upright. “Oh, Liam—”

  He held up a hand that looked reassuringly steady in the shadows. “Maura said they’re cautiously optimistic about his recovery at this point, but she thought I would want to know. I think I should go there.”

  “Of course you should!” Climbing out of the bed, she turned on the lights, squinting a little until her eyes adjusted. She watched as he pulled his bags out of the closet. Thinking of everything she had to do during the next two weeks, she drew a deep breath and asked, “Do you want me to come with you?”

  He stilled in the process of taking shirts from hangers. His eyes were soft when he looked at her. “I can’t tell you how much it means to me that you offered—but, no. There’s no need for that.”

  “You’re sure? Because Haley could take notes for me.”

  He shook his head firmly, returning to his packing. “You keep up with your classes and I’ll take care of my dad. I’ll call, of course.”

  “Yes, please do. I’ll be worried.”

  Forty-five minutes later, showered, shaved and dressed, Liam packed his bags in his car, then returned to make sure he had everything and to kiss Anne goodbye. “I’ll call when I get there.”

  “All right. Have a safe trip.”

  He held her tightly for a long hug, then reluctantly let her go. “Try to get some more sleep. You need the rest.”

  With that, he let himself out, closing the door quietly behind him.

  Her arms locked across her chest, Anne blinked back tears as she stared blindly at that closed door. She wasn’t entirely sure Liam would return to Little Rock once he’d assured himself that his father no longer needed him. Especially after the silly quarrel they’d had before dinner. He would just as likely decide that he should go back to his own apartment in New York, that his little experiment of living with her had not worked out as he’d hoped.

  It hadn’t escaped her attention that he’d taken everything with him when he departed, leaving an emptiness inside her that felt much larger than the gap in her closet. Maybe he had privately realized he couldn’t work here, after all. She was aware of just how little he’d accomplished during the past week, though he hadn’t been willing to discuss his progress—or lack thereof.

  Maybe he was tired of hiding behind doors whenever her doorbell rang. Or sitting alone in her apartment while she spent hours in classes and with her study group. She certainly couldn’t blame him for that.

  Wiping her damp cheeks with an impatient hand, she turned away from the door and moved toward the kitchen. She might as well make a pot of coffee. She couldn’t sleep now, anyway.

  She had just poured her first, fragrant cup when it occurred to her that this was Valentine’s Day.

  Swearing beneath her breath, she told herself it didn’t matter. It was a silly, made-up holiday, anyway, and Liam had much more important things on his mind. They both did.

  She carried the cup to the table, set it down with a thump and opened her laptop. She had to study; she didn’t have time to stand there and sniffle.

  But she really was going to miss him.

  The phone rang at just after noon, drawing Anne out of her perusal of a drawing of the male reproductive system. She’d already been studying for almost eight hours, even though she hadn’t even had lunch yet. She was getting tired after so little sleep, but she’d figured she might as well study another hour or so, then take a brief nap before diving in again.

  She snatched up her phone and checked the ID screen, trying to keep any trace of disappointment out of her voice when she answered, “Haley. How was the date?”

  “I had a great time. Kris is really nice. Very funny. There was this really cute thing he said during dinner…”

  Pushing her computer aside, Anne sat back in her chair to listen to her friend’s step-by-step description of last night’s successful first date. She didn’t mind the interruption. She and Haley had grown very close during the past couple of years, bonding through the unique stress only another medical student could completely understand, and she treasured their friendship.

  Which only made her feel guiltier for not telling Haley about Liam, she thought with an uncomfortable squirm in her chair. As time had passed since they’d started studying together, it had become too awkward to admit she’d been married all along. Maybe she would confide in Haley soon. Haley would certainly keep her secret.

  Anne thought it might feel good to unload. Though honestly, today she had no idea what she would say.

  Haley was still chatting when the doorbell rang twenty minutes later.

  “There’s someone at my door, Haley. I’ll see you in class tomorrow, okay?”

  “Sure. See you, Anne.”

  Her caller tapped on the door before she could reach it, sounding impatient. “Hello? Delivery.”

  A delivery? On a Sunday?

  She checked the peephole. The young man wore a uniform shirt and carried a huge bouquet of flowers. She opened the door.

  The flowers were roses. Red, lush, fragrant, arranged in a crystal vase. The deliveryman thrust them at
her, along with a gold-wrapped box. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

  “Thank you. Wait, I’ll—”

  But he was already moving away, waving off her words. “Got a bunch of deliveries this afternoon. Have a good day,” he called over his shoulder.

  Closing the door with her hip, she cradled the vase of flowers in the crook of one arm and carried that and the box to the table. She couldn’t resist burying her nose in the blooms for a moment before setting the vase down. She loved the scent of roses. She also loved chocolates, she thought with an appreciative eye at the familiar box. She would ration those for days, savoring them for as long as they lasted. How sweet of Liam to—

  Happy Valentine’s Day, Anne. Love, Mom and Dad.

  The card had been tucked into the roses. She stared at it blankly for a moment.

  Well. Wasn’t that thoughtful of her parents, to send her such a nice surprise gift? Her mother always made a point of sending her a card or something for Valentine’s Day, but this was more elaborate than usual. Remembering her mom’s little pep talk at the end of their last dinner together, she supposed her parents thought she needed the pick-me-up at this point in her education.

  She would have to call immediately to thank them. She told herself the roses were just as lovely, the candy just as deliciously tempting as they’d been when she’d thought they were from Liam. It was petty and ungrateful to be even a little disappointed by such a nice gesture.

  Blinking rapidly, she reached for her phone, a bright smile pasted on her face in the hope that it would be reflected in her voice when she spoke with her all-too-perceptive mother.

  She didn’t hear from Liam again until seven o’clock Monday morning. She’d just gotten out of the shower and dressed for class in jeans and a sweater and was tying off her braid when her phone rang.

  Noting Liam’s number in relief, she answered quickly. “Liam? I was getting worried.”

  “Sorry, I had some flight delays. I didn’t get here until the middle of the night, your time, and I didn’t want to wake you.”