Zenith Rising (Zenith Trilogy, #2)

by Leanne Davis

  “You could say ‘good job Erica,’” she said, when Roy only frowned at her.

  “Of course. Of course. Miracle of life and all that. Good, the baby’s healthy. Still, why does it have to be you delivering Nick’s baby?”

  “We’ve been through this. Joelle is my best friend. That should mean something to you. Nick and I are friends, sure, but it’s insulting to me that you could think it might be something more. Especially as I’m delivering his wife’s baby. God, Roy.”

  Roy wrapped an arm around her waist as he kissed her on the mouth. “All right. I’ll lay off it. Congratulations.”

  As he stepped back to leave, Erica noticed Spencer sitting on a bench that was around the corner from where Roy and she stood. He wasn’t so much as listening, as he couldn’t help but hear them by his close proximity. Erica blushed when they made eye contact, but Spencer’s expression didn’t change. He glanced at Roy. Then at her.

  She passed around Roy and went over to Spencer.

  “They had a girl. Everything went like it should. Textbook perfect, in fact.”

  Spencer looked her over with no reaction on his face. Wow, he could do a poker face like no one else she’d ever met. “Quite a job you have, isn’t it, Doc?”

  “Yes it is,” Erica said, satisfied someone noticed that.

  Then Nick’s family spotted Erica, nearly engulfing her as they surged around her. The door to Joelle’s room opened, and Nick stepped out. He was instantly enveloped, as they started to trickle into the room with loud, happy squeals. Erica was soon alone in the corridor with Spencer as the last Lassiter sister disappeared inside the room. Spencer stood up slowly to his full height beside her.

  “Looks like they’ll be awhile.”

  Erica smiled, as she looked up at Spencer. “I’d imagine so.”

  “Are you done then?”

  Erica checked her watch and saw it was midnight. “For tonight. I was here primarily for Joelle. I’m not scheduled beyond that.”

  “You look like you could use a cup of coffee.”

  She was hungry, and she skipped dinner. “I’m starving.”

  “It’ll be a wait for the Lassiter crew to clear out. We might as well grab a coffee or something.”

  Erica jerked to attention and raised her eyebrows in surprise. She didn’t expect that. It was nothing. They kind of knew each other. He was passing time. He was simply waiting to see Joelle. He was being a good friend. None of it had anything to do with her.

  “Cafeteria is closed.”

  “Anything else closeby?”

  “There’s a twenty-four-hour diner across the street.”

  Spencer shrugged. “All right.”

  “Okay.” He said it so blasé, she was sure he didn’t particularly want her company, but she decided she’d help him pass an hour.

  They turned in sync, got on the elevator and stood without touching, facing forward. Erica looked nowhere, but at the door. It was if her eyeballs were riveted to the steel doors. Anything was better than the urge to fidget, or simply stare at Spencer beside her.

  On the ground floor, Erica exited first. She was way too aware of Spencer walking behind her. Before she reached the door, Spencer reached around her, and opened it for her. She was surprised at the small courtesy from the former Spike. The night air brought goose bumps to her bare arms, and she rubbed them. Or was it just her nerves caused by this man beside her who was so out of her sphere of acquaintances that his mere presence subjected her arms to goose flesh?

  “It’s there.” Erica pointed across the side street towards a small diner that was lit up with Tara’s Diner in pink neon. They crossed the street together, now side-by-side. Tara, owner and operator greeted them. She smiled and asked how Erica was as she led them to a small, private booth near the window that looked back towards the hospital.

  The entire time Spencer, was silently following behind her. Appraising. Watching. No comments. No smiles. No indication what he saw or thought. He managed to completely disconcert her. How could she so easily deliver a baby less than an hour ago, yet now she was tied up in knots just to have coffee with this man she once met?

  Chapter Two

  “How’re things tonight, Dr. Heathersby? Any new miracles?” Jenna, the waitress, asked.

  “Yes. A girl. Born to a friend of mine.”

  “Well, you must be starved after all that work. The usual?”

  “Okay,” Erica said to the waitress as she glanced at Spencer.

  “I’ll have a coffee.”

  “Nothing else?”

  “No.”

  “Okay then, I’ll put this order in for you. Be right back with your coffee.”

  Why wouldn’t he order something to eat? Great. Now she got to eat with him watching her. Just what every woman loved.

  “You’re here often.”

  “Comes with the territory. I’m on call every other week or so. When I get off, day or night, I’m usually ready for something besides cafeteria or vending machine food.”

  “On call?”

  “We have a rotating schedule of doctors who are on call at the hospital. That way, we’re not recruited every time a mother goes into labor.”

  “How long have you been doing this?” His voice sounded uninterested, as if he asked her purely out of duty or obligation. But his eyes were right on her face. Intense. She glanced away, looking out the window to the city lights beyond.

  “I’ve been with my practice for four years.”

  Jenna returned with the coffee, and poured it out in generic, white mugs. Spencer leaned back, sprawling his long body in the booth, his arm resting along the length, his black coat separating to reveal the button-up brown shirt he wore with dark jeans. He looked so normal. So manly. So unlike Spike. Erica couldn’t reconcile the two images of this one man.

  “How long does it take to become a baby doctor?”

  “A long time. College, med-school, internship, residency, and now, practicing.”

  “Crap. I couldn’t even finish high school. How could you commit for so long?”

  Erica shrugged. “Interest, I guess. I wanted to be there. I devoured my anatomy classes, med classes, and loved anything pertaining to the woman’s body.”

  “I can understand that.”

  Erica rolled her eyes with a half smile. “Yeah, well, mine was primarily a clinical interest.”

  “Joelle says you’re the best doctor she’s ever gone to.”

  “Helps that I’m also her best friend.” Erica grabbed a packet of sugar and dumped it into her steaming coffee. She folded the pink wrapper and rolled it between her fingers. Anything to avoid those dark, melting, brown eyes of his.

  “She says it wouldn’t matter.”

  “What else does Joelle says about me?” She peeked over her glasses, unable to avoid looking his way. It was like the sun, in its brightness, beckoned her, but its brilliance was too blinding.

  He cocked his head to the side. “That you’re intelligent, kind, beautiful, wonderful, funny, sweet, rich...”

  “Oh, God, she doesn’t! She doesn’t really go on like that about me? To you?”

  He chuckled. “Oh, she really does. To everyone. She loves you. I could keep going on.”

  “She’s my best friend. But that’s a load of crap.”

  “So you’re not all those things?”

  “No. Not even close.”

  “Except for intelligent, beautiful, rich, and a great doctor?”

  “Intelligent. Rich. And a fantastic doctor,” she said with a smile. It was the only thing in the world she could be so sure about.

  He leaned on the table as if closing the distance between them. “I have eyes, Doc; Joelle’s more than right about your IQ, but I figured the intelligent part was pretty accurate with the MD attached to your name.”

  Erica looked away. Why was he flustering her so? She was thirty-two years old, way too old for Spike-turned-Spencer, so why would this man’s errant compliment affect her so much? Luckily, Jenna
arrived with her grilled cheese right then.

  She licked her lips, trying to think of something to say that had nothing to do with his melting chocolate eyes, or how he could make her turn red simply by looking across the Formica table at her. “How long did it take you to learn to play music as well as you do?”

  Spencer shrugged and leaned his long torso forward. “That wasn’t learned. It just was.”

  “What do you mean ‘just was’?”

  “I started playing one day.”

  Her eyebrows shot up. “What do you mean you just started playing one day?”

  He shrugged and glanced away. He had no interest in talking about himself to her. “Yeah. I started playing. Later, Rob taught me more stuff, about reading and writing music. But I could listen and play without being taught.”

  “That’s impressive.”

  “Yeah, real impressive, now I’m an out of work piano player.”

  Ouch. Okay. Subject closed. “What about Zenith? Won’t you start your band again now that Rob’s sober?”

  “Don’t know. Rob’s not ready.”

  “So are you sober then too? Like Rob?”

  “No. I was never an alcoholic like Rob. Don’t know why he got hooked and couldn’t stop. I could. I drank, but managed to control it, never craving it. I was having fun. Rob was losing his soul.”

  “And Spike?”

  “Why did I look like a freak, you mean?” Spencer looked up just then as he said it, pinning her with his gaze, the intense, unsmiling look on his face. “I was experimenting. I’ve been on my own most of my life. Rob was my only real guardian. There was no one else to look out for me, guide me, or stop me. So why not? I was young in this crazy scene of music and parties. It was all crazy and I became part of it. I became it.”

  “Rob was your guardian? I thought you two were the same age? Joelle said you ran away together at seventeen.”

  “No. We lied all those years so everyone would leave me alone. I ran away with Rob, but I was only thirteen. Since I was so tall for my age, no one ever really questioned it. I guess most people probably think I’m Rob’s age.”

  “So you’re…?”

  “Twenty-six. Same as Joelle.”

  “I don’t think even Joelle knows that. Why did you run away?”

  “Not interesting enough to discuss.” His entire body tensed, proving he cared about that subject. As apathetic as he sounded to her, exchanging small talk, he was most definitely physically affected by the mention of why he ran away from home.

  “You never went back home? You’ve been on your own since you were only thirteen?”

  “Yeah. Except for Rob.”

  “That was way too young for you to be on your own.”

  Spencer shrugged. He looked away, out the window, indicating the end to that line of questioning. There was more. So much more here, she was sure. So much he wasn’t saying. Why did he run away as a kid? Why did Rob, at only age seventeen, feel so compelled to help him?

  Rob must’ve taken Spencer away from something. Erica knew that much, but nothing more. The why. The what. The where. Joelle always believed that the why of whatever happened to teenage Spencer, was why Spencer became Spike.

  “What are you? About Nick’s age?”

  “Not quite. I’m thirty-two.”

  “You’ve done a lot for yourself.”

  She shrugged, hearing the unspoken comment that he hadn’t done anything with his life.

  He was younger than she first thought. Way younger. A full six years younger than she. Her entire middle warmed. Embarrassment flushed her skin. For a few seconds there, she might’ve been attracted to him. But now she realized why Spike existed. Spencer, as Spike, was literally very young and experimental. He still seemed young. He was just emerging from a few years of wild, wasted youth, spent experimenting, partying, drinking, living it up, but all the while, looking for his way in life. He was just beginning to grow up, get a career, and create a life for himself. They each occupied two completely different stages of life. Erica had long been practicing medicine, paying off a mortgage, monthly expenses, security, and resided in an entirely grown-up world. She hadn’t partied in at least a decade, and hadn’t been around anyone who did in as long. Joelle was about her only link to that realm. At least, Spencer would never realize her strange, unexpected attraction to him.

  “You still play music, don’t you? Even if the band is done for now?”

  “No. We’ve got all that’s left of Zenith upstairs in the spare room.”

  “Why don’t you? You could do a hundred different jobs. You could go out on your own. I’ve heard you play; why would you give that up?”

  “What? Are you suggesting that I like give little kids piano lessons?”

  “Well, you’d be playing, at least.”

  “Yeah, well, right now, I need to make money. I spent years just playing. I can’t keep doing that. I lost a lot of time and money with Rob’s troubles. I gave him almost everything I ever had. It makes it kind of hard to sit around, trying to do whatever I want. It doesn’t matter. It was time for me to grow up. Anyway, I don’t play for real without Rob.”

  “Really? Why? You don’t need him to play the piano.”

  “Because I’m not going anywhere without him.”

  “But that’s just it; you could.”

  “No. I couldn’t. How many piano players do you know? It’s the singers who make it big, and their bands by default. So if I ever had a chance, it’s invariably tied to Rob. And Rob’s not ready yet. To do anything, or go anywhere musically.”

  “So you’re waiting him out?”

  “Something like that.”

  “You have an admirable amount of loyalty for your friend.”

  “He’s all I got. So I can wait as long as it takes, provided he continues trying so hard to clean up. Besides, I had some considerable cleaning up to do myself.”

  Erica looked down to realize she’d eaten her entire dinner. Every last bite, in front of Spencer, no less. Great. Just what she needed at twelve-thirty at night.

  Jenna came over, took Erica’s plate and set the check down while she refilled their coffee.

  “Where do you work then? If you’re not playing piano anywhere?”

  “Delivery man. Waiter. Whatever I can get. Right now though? Nothing. Times suck, even shitty jobs are hard to find.”

  She picked up the check, then set it back down after realizing she left her purse in the on-call room. How fitting! He just got through telling her he was unemployed, and she had no means to buy her own dinner. “I didn’t bring my purse.”

  “I know, Doc,” he said simply before picking up the check and walking to the cash register.

  She waited for him at the entry. When he turned and walked towards her, she said, “I’ll pay you back.”

  “Don’t be stupid.”

  “I just…” She almost pointed out that he just said he didn’t have a job; but she bit her tongue after seeing the mean look he shot her.

  “You owe me a coffee sometime.”

  ****

  Erica followed Spencer back to the hospital. Why did he keep calling her “Doc” in that nearly insolent, lazy tone. The way he drew it out was almost disrespectful. Why wouldn’t he just call her Erica? She had no clue about how to interact with this Spike-now-Spencer man, much less what to say to his careless, offhand questions, his long, loose-limbed gait, or his intense looks that were nearly expressionless. Yet, he seemed so much more than that. Deeper. Darker. Hotter.

  Then they were back to easy familiarity. The hospital. Her bailiwick, where she brought new life into the world, sometimes death, and provided comfort for those in pain. At least, over that realm she had some semblance of control.

  Joelle’s room was empty. The Lassiter women seemed to have scattered for the night. Erica knocked lightly and entered when Joelle told her to come in. Joelle looked pale and tired. She lifted her head, and smiled with pleasure at seeing Erica. Then she grinned as she noticed
Spencer behind her.

  “Never thought I’d see you two walking in here together.”

  “We had to take cover from Nick’s estrogen entourage,” Spencer said, crossing the room to Joelle’s side, and kissing her cheek. They still puzzled Erica, especially when Spencer was Spike. There was a brotherly sense of caring, and gentle, protectiveness Spencer showed with Joelle and she with him, despite Joelle’s ex being Spencer’s best friend.

  She glanced at Joelle’s chart and did a quick check.

  “Erica, quit being a doctor. Hold my daughter.”

  Erica looked up, startled, as Nick’s voice came up behind her. She turned and grinned. “Okay. I can quit being a doctor for a few minutes.”

  Erica took the now quiet infant from Nick. She sniffed the little head and had to refrain from shutting her eyes in ecstasy. She could almost feel her womb contract with longing. God, she wanted a baby. Her own baby. Not babies she had to give back to their mothers. She wanted to not only be the baby doctor; she wanted to be the new mother. She wanted to be tired, worn out, and hormonal. She wanted a baby so much, she couldn’t breathe sometimes when she held her newest delivery.

  It was probably why she continued to date Nick long after she realized they weren’t really in love. She just wanted to find a man to marry. She wanted to have what Joelle and Nick had: the marriage, the family, and the baby.

  Fearing it might not happen, she was getting exhausted from dating guys whom she couldn’t quite imagine spending all her time with, let alone, sharing the rest of her life. She was tired of something always missing, yet she could never define quite what that thing was. Even Roy Bennett, a successful, handsome, well-off, interesting, well traveled associate, even in him she found fault. He was a little too egotistical, and a little too demanding of her time and attention. There was always something, some reason she found not to like any male prospect quite enough.

  She poured her heart and soul into becoming a doctor, and building up her practice and reputation. She was dedicated to her patients and loved her career. With a passion that prevented her from finding it anywhere else in her life, she accepted her career as the embodiment of her life. All of her ambition, her energy, and her motivation went into being a great doctor. What more could she have left over for a husband and kids? She was so busy. So in demand. What man could ever understand that? Unless maybe, it was another doctor like Roy.