But of course, Jon wasn’t interested in her anymore. She’d been too harsh to him the last time they’d spoken.
He stared down at her, not moving, his face impassive. But his ice-blue eyes seemed to bore into hers. “What ‘best interests’?” From the inflection in his voice, he didn’t sound happy to see her.
Dropping her hand, she stepped back. Clasped the tablet with both hands to her chest again. Of course, his concern was for Brandon. “Nothing,” she said.
“Hi, Jon.” Susan strolled around Elizabeth and smiled at him, showing off her dimples. “How are you today?”
Jon glanced at Susan, up and down, very quickly. “I’m fine.” He returned his gaze to Elizabeth, but the damage was done. In her baggy scrubs, her scuffed and worn shoes, her distinct lack of makeup, she felt self-conscious in comparison to Susan.
“I talked with your agent this morning.” Susan played with a dangling gold earring as she focused the glow of her attention on Jon. “She’s excited about the commercial shoot. I told her we’re ready to start filming on Monday.”
“Yeah, I heard.” But Jon hadn’t stopped staring at Elizabeth. She squirmed. His gaze pinned her as if blaming her for the decision with Brandon.
“Unfortunately,” Susan nattered on, nodding her head toward Elizabeth, “Brandon won’t be participating, so you’ll be going it alone. But that should be okay. We can certainly work around it.”
“Well. Everything’s settled. I need to go.” Elizabeth turned on her heel and escaped to safety out in the corridor.
Jon followed her. “What ‘best interests’?” He spoke from close behind her ear. To her shock, he kept pace with every step she took down the hallway.
“Stop following me,” she hissed.
“I want to know why you think I’m bad for Brandon.”
Two passing residents turned to stare at them. Elizabeth cringed. “Please don’t do this here.”
“Choose your place, then, because we’re having this out right now.”
Feeling hot, she gripped her tablet tighter. “Fine,” she said in a clipped voice. What did he care, it wasn’t his hospital colleagues who were observing them. “Follow me.”
Lengthening her stride, she headed as fast as she could for a quieter corridor, one that angled away from the children’s clinic and led to a different wing of the vast hospital complex where she worked. Chairs and cubbyhole-type seating areas were tucked into various stops along the walkway. She would divert Jon into one of those, out of sight from passersby.
Jon followed her without a word, obeying for once. How could he possibly think she had something against him? Presumably, Jon had listened to her voice mail apology. If not, she would make him listen. It ate her up inside when he misunderstood her.
But all the chairs along the route were taken. There was no private spot at this time of day. Elizabeth hated to do this—it was her special place to hide, her sanctuary—but she diverted their path in the direction of the hospital chapel. Nearby were small, adjacent rooms with doors that closed, where surgeons often met to give news—usually bad news—to family members.
She chose a vacant room and closed the door behind Jon with a solid click. It was just the two of them, alone. And Jon was standing much too close to her, towering over her five-foot-eight frame, his gaze piercing her, forcing her to tilt back her head and look up at him.
Her bare neck was exposed. She felt so vulnerable to him. And so...aware of his presence. It made her sweat under her loose doctor jacket.
She should have thought ahead to the fact that closing the door not only gave them privacy from others, but it also gave them intimacy.
They stared at each other, both breathing heavily from the fast walk. His gaze went from her throat, to her lips, to her eyes, and back to her lips. His expression seemed to soften. His lips parted slightly.
Her nipples were tightening. She felt warm all over. Never had she so wanted to be kissed. His smell just...drew her closer.
He lifted his hand to her, and she wanted to touch him. To run her hands through his hair beside his cheekbones. Such beautiful, masculine hair.
Longer than hers. The opposite of hers.
Abruptly, he crossed his arms and stepped back, exhaling heavily. He fixed his gaze at a point over her head. “Look, I understand that you and I are from completely different worlds, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t trust Brandon with me.”
“Did I say that?” she whispered. “I never said that.”
His gaze darted to her. “You’re dead set against me. You always have been, Elizabeth.”
She flinched at his harsh tone. And he was no longer calling her Lizzy, his old endearment. Maybe it was too late for them.
Disappointment coursing through her, she felt herself slumping. And here she had dared hope that Jon could see through her protective shell to understand she’d been trying. That she was willing to open herself up, a little bit.
She placed her tablet on a table and wiped her hands against her hospital scrubs. “My decision with Susan isn’t about you. It’s about Brandon.”
“He’s perfect for that program.” Jon’s voice was so rich and low it sent a shiver through her. “You should have seen him yesterday. He was great with those kids. And he was so excited to be there.”
Jon’s ice-blue eyes focused on hers, and he was close to pleading. “Don’t punish him for it. His presence in that ward had nothing to do with my influence. He deserves to be there more than I do.”
“I know he wants to help kids with cancer.” Did Jon think she didn’t know her own nephew? “He told me that himself.”
“Then why not let him do it?” Jon demanded. “Just because of me? What are you so afraid of, anyway?”
“Afraid?” She stepped back, furious. And she’d just wanted to kiss this man? “You really think this decision is all about my wishes?”
“Who else’s wishes would they be?”
She felt her mouth widen in shock. “Jon, my conversation with Susan—which was private, by the way—was not about my wishes, or about any lack of trust in you. On the contrary, it was about respecting my sister’s wishes. Because Brandon is not my child. He’s not yours, either.”
“Yeah, no kidding. So whose boy is he? Besides your sister’s? Is Brandon in some kind of danger with his biological father? Because otherwise, I don’t get your big urge to secrecy. I really don’t.”
“Wait.” She put her hand to her head. “Are you asking about his biological father? Are you really going there?”
“Yes, I am.” Jon leaned against the table where she’d set her tablet. “Brandon said he doesn’t have a father. But everybody does—it’s an inescapable fact. So tell me, Liz, who is he? Is he somebody dangerous? Is your sister in hiding from him?”
“No!” she sputtered. “Nobody is dangerous. Nobody is in hiding.”
“Are you sure?”
“I...” She felt flabbergasted. And ashamed. Because she really didn’t know. Ashley had never confided in anyone. Just like their own mother had never confided in them. Ashley had eventually figured out that Tony was their father, but not until she was about twelve or thirteen years of age, older than Brandon.
Elizabeth pressed her hand to her mouth.
She did know one thing: she felt protective of Ashley—as viscerally protective as she’d ever felt about wanting to keep their father’s name a secret. It was nobody’s business. A private, family matter.
“I’m sorry, Jon,” she said as clearly as she could, “the bottom line is, I don’t have the right to make this decision on my nephew’s behalf. Brandon is an underage kid. I need you to understand that.”
“Nope, doesn’t make sense to me. Because if you don’t have the right to make decisions on Brandon’s behalf, then who does? Your sister?” He snorted. “She gave up her rights—at least in the short term—when she entered that treatment facility. You know I’m right about this.”
“Why do you care?” she shot back. “A
nd don’t tell me it’s for Brandon, because you’ve only known him for a week.”
He stepped closer to her, nose to nose. “Why do you care about stopping him from doing what he was born to do? How does that threaten you?”
“It doesn’t threaten me. You misunderstand.”
“I think you’re the one who doesn’t want Brandon on television. I think it’s personal to you. I think it would require you to get messy in ways that you don’t want to. You might actually have to mingle with the rest of us lowly nondoctors. And I don’t think you can stand that.”
She gaped at him. She did not understand, in the least, where this was coming from. His gaze went from her eyes to her mouth to her...breasts. There was awareness between them, an interest, and he was fighting it, the same as she was. She got the feeling this wasn’t all about the situation at hand. It was...something else. But she wasn’t good at reading people. She was missing the point.
“Why do you want him so badly on this video project?” she asked. “How does it help you?” She clapped her hand to her mouth. “Oh, my gosh. The owner of your team sits on the board of the hospital...Mrs. Sharpe...Vivian Sharpe...she’s chairperson of the Sunshine Club. You’re doing this to impress Vivian, aren’t you? And Brandon can make you look good.”
He laughed sarcastically, but it was a false laugh—Elizabeth saw through it. “Right,” he said. “Stop changing the subject. We’re discussing you, Lizzy. If Brandon is at the hospital too much, being outspoken the way he naturally is, then he threatens your professional boundaries.”
“It’s about protecting him, not me,” she pointed out yet again. “A television commercial is very public. It’s as public as it gets. Much attention will be drawn to him, and I am not interested in exposure, of any kind. For me, or for anyone close to me. End of discussion.” She turned for the door, but his voice stopped her.
“Exposure brings benefits to people, Elizabeth. To other people. It can help them. Isn’t that worth it to you?”
“Not if it destroys the messenger in the process,” she snapped.
“How? How would being public destroy Brandon? Destroy you?”
Elizabeth turned. “Are you blind? Look at my sister in rehab. As a kid, she focused on everyone else, drawn to the drama. She rarely focused on taking care of herself, and the result of that was chaos—out-of-control chaos. And do you know what results from that?” She sputtered. “Messes. There are messes to be cleaned up. Don’t you see what happens? Don’t you see where my sister is, and what I’m doing right now, taking care of Brandon? Don’t you see that my way of living is better?”
There was a shocked silence. Elizabeth clapped her hand over her mouth. She needed to grab her tablet and get away. Away from Jon’s shocked expression, away from his judgment. She pulled at the doorknob. Anything to get some air.
Jon’s hand clasped her arm. Her first instinct was to go rigid, but his hand was warm, and her body—traitor—wanted him to touch her. Wanted his closeness.
“I know, Lizzy,” he murmured. “I spent my early years cleaning up other people’s messes, too, holding my family together.” He spoke to her in that low voice that echoed through her bones and wrapped her in comfort. She shuddered, leaning into him, craving that warmth. “This commercial,” he continued, “this video...it isn’t one of those times. It’s something that heals. Let it be healing for Brandon, too. Let it make him feel better about what he’s going through.”
Tears pricked at the inside of her eyelids. If only it was as easy as Jon made it sound. The publicity was just too big. At some point, ultimately, there would be consequences. It was only a matter of time.
“He’s healing with me,” she whispered.
And he was. She and Brandon had developed a routine together over these past days. They were getting closer. And he would be okay, once she broke the news to him and he got over his initial disappointment.
“I know he is healing with you,” Jon said quietly. “He respects you. I see it.”
Maybe Jon did understand. He wasn’t fighting or angry with her anymore; he was letting her know that he was on her side, and he approved.
“Then let it go,” she pleaded with him.
“I can’t.” He shook his head. “The kid got me involved. He sucked me in.”
“That isn’t good for you. It’s not healthy.”
He snorted. “You think I don’t know that?” He pushed away from the wall. “But maybe I need to do this video with him the way you need your routines and your life. My job—being a Captains player—it’s how I keep the bad stuff at bay, just like you do with being a doctor. I like how it enables me to help people. You...gave me a hard time about being too much of a white knight...maybe you were right, to a point. But that can be a good thing too, Liz. Because otherwise, why are we here? To be alone? I don’t want to be alone.”
She swallowed, knowing that this was probably more than he ever told anybody, maybe even more than he usually admitted to himself. She risked looking into his eyes. Oh God, he was so beautiful. So classically handsome, inside and out.
His hand moved from her arm to her waist and then to the small of her back. A proprietary touch.
See me, and be mine, it said.
But she could not allow this. Because he had been right about her—she was terrified of being part of somebody else’s pain. And that included Brandon’s pain and her sister’s pain.
She needed to get back to her anesthesia. To her reading. To her studying. Watching the baseball play-offs at night on TV and cataloging what they were doing and understanding it...enjoying it. She needed to relax and to breathe in her home, in her private, protective shell. And as much as she would love for Jon—for this beautiful, feeling man—to be part of that inner shell with her, he just wanted too much. She could never be that public person with him.
“I need to go.” She picked up her tablet from the table she’d set it on. Her hands were shaking uncontrollably. “I’m sorry.”
She broke away from Jon. Let go of her connection with him, physically and otherwise. “If Brandon calls you upset this afternoon, could you please explain to him that the Captains don’t want the liability of a child involved with the program? For me? Please?”
Jon’s head tilted. “Don’t, Lizzy.” He looked directly into her eyes, pleading and, despite herself, she couldn’t look away.
“Trust me,” he said quietly. “Don’t give up.”
She closed her eyes. He was not going away easily. She hated to make this choice, to hurt him. But he had overstepped his boundaries by threatening her family’s privacy, and she would protect what was hers.
“If you fight me on this, Jon, then I will file a complaint with...” She’d meant to say Vivian, but when push came to shove, she couldn’t be that cruel. “With...with the hospital.”
He stepped back from her. Physically stepped back. “No need,” he said brusquely.
And when she left, he did not follow her through the doorway.
Everything was worse with him than before. And she’d done it in Brandon’s name.
* * *
TWO HOURS LATER, she still felt terrible for the way she’d handled the situation with Jon.
She was not a person who threatened other people. This was not her vision of herself.
But she couldn’t go back in time, and she didn’t know what to do about it even if she could. So Elizabeth finished her last write-up on her last surgery and drove to Brandon’s school to pick him up for the afternoon. Her nephew flew out of the building with all the pent up energy of an active little boy forced to sit still and behave all day.
Her heart went out to him. She smiled as he opened the door to her Prius, jumped inside and threw his knapsack on the floor as fast as he could talk. “Auntie! Hurry up, we’re late, we have to get to the hospital!”
Her heart sank. How could she crush him? Before she could think of a response, several of his friends ran over to him, milling around the car, knocking on the windo
ws and waving at him. Elizabeth felt herself shrinking back. Ugh. She was aching to be home already. But they were stuck in the Prius, idling in the school parking lot behind a string of cars waiting for the buses to pull out and leave. She really had no control over where they could go or how far they could advance or who could waylay them.
“Hello!” A pretty dark-haired woman knocked on the driver’s side window. “Are you Brandon’s aunt?” she called through the glass. “I’m Caitlin, Ashley’s neighbor.”
Elizabeth groaned. She had no choice but to flick the power switch and open the window. “Yes. Hello.”
“It’s so nice to meet you finally.” Caitlin reached inside and clasped her hand. “We’re really pulling for Ashley. Please give her our best.”
“I’m sorry,” Elizabeth said, “I don’t know what you’re—”
“I told them you’re helping us, Auntie,” Brandon piped in.
“And it’s such good news about Brandon’s tests being cancer-free,” Caitlin continued, gushing. “Ashley will be so thrilled when she hears. How long will she be gone?”
It was a nightmare. An absolute nightmare.
“My mom will be back in a week or two,” Brandon said to Caitlin. “I’ll tell you when she’s home.”
And her nephew was in on it?
“Brandon, please put on your seat belt.” Elizabeth closed the window to Caitlin and made a small wave.
“Goodbye, everybody!” Brandon shouted through the glass to his friends as the line of cars inched forward. Slowly but surely they made their escape from the school grounds.
As she stepped on the accelerator and merged with moving traffic, Elizabeth had no idea how to handle this new problem. Should she chide Brandon about keeping his mother’s privacy? Or was that even healthy?
“Auntie, did you get the forms filled out?”
Elizabeth gripped the steering wheel. Here we go, she thought. She was so not handling this well. “Honey, I told you last night that it didn’t look good, and not to get your hopes up.”
Out of His League Page 13
