Reunited with Her Hot-Shot Surgeon

by Amy Ruttan

  Of course, they’d made promises like that before.

  “We’re only supposed to study for the boards!” Calum had said as he took the shot from her.

  “We are studying for the boards. Look, we both have this down pat and you said that I couldn’t drink you under the table, so I think that for every wrong answer we take a shot.”

  Calum laughed. “You’re crazy.”

  “I know, but you know you’re the one that was spouting off how you had an iron-clad stomach. So prove it!”

  “I know that I do,” Calum teased. “You’re the one who lost her cool at the board of director’s dinner and got up to sing a really bad rendition of that song from...some Broadway musical.”

  Pearl laughed. “I’m a good singer.”

  Calum had raised an eyebrow. “I can assure you that no hills were alive with the sound of music that night. More like the sound of cat caught in an engine.”

  Pearl smiled as that memory flitted through her mind.

  That foolish drinking game had turned into something more and her blood heated as she thought of that first kiss. That first kiss had made her think of him constantly and then she kissed him again in that on-call room five years ago and that second kiss led to another and another. She closed her eyes and gingerly touched her lips, remembering the feeling of his lips against hers.

  No man had ever made her feel that way before and she knew deep down no one ever would, because she wasn’t going to open her heart again.

  She wasn’t going to go through all that pain.

  Her life was her career.

  And that was it. That was what she’d been taught. Surgery, her medical degree, never let her down.

  Pearl sighed and tried to read through the information. She tried to focus on anything that wasn’t Calum, but he was like a ghost, haunting her. Always in her thoughts.

  Her phone rang and she answered it. “Hello?”

  “Pearl?” her mother asked, and Pearl groaned inwardly. Usually she screened her calls from her mother or father. She would call them back when she was able to handle them. When she was able to talk to them and could devote the emotional energy it took to have a conversation with them. But her parents were both narcissists and the conversations were usually one-sided.

  “Mom, what can I do for you?” Because that was usually the thrust of the conversation—what Pearl could do for her.

  “You’re not even going to ask me how I am?” her mother asked indignantly. “I thought I taught you better manners than that.”

  “Mom, you called me, shouldn’t you be asking how I am?”

  There were a few moments of silence and Pearl tried not to smile, throwing her mother off on one of her tangents.

  “Pearl, I know you’re back on the West Coast and I want you to come see me. You have been avoiding me for years. You had the excuse that you were on the East Coast, but you’re back here now.”

  Pearl groaned inwardly. “Mom, I thought you detested guests. They messed with your surgical schedule.”

  “You’re going to visit your father’s, aren’t you? You always liked him more,” she snapped, avoiding Pearl’s statement.

  “Mom, I’m not a child. I’m a grown woman. And a surgeon.”

  “I’m a surgeon, too, Pearl.”

  Pearl sighed. “I can’t come to see you, Mom. I have an extensive case with one of my athletes and I work for a football team now. Autumn is a busy time for the team.”

  “Extensive case?” her mother asked, piqued.

  “Osteosarcoma on a player.”

  “That’s not extensive. You amputate,” her mother stated matter-of-factly.

  “Mom, you’re a cardiothoracic surgeon. Amputation isn’t always the solution, like a heart transplant isn’t always the solution.”

  “Every surgeon worth their salt knows that an extensive osteosarcoma can only be truly cured by amputation.”

  Pearl rolled her eyes and was glad that she wasn’t on a video chat with her mother. “I’m working with a surgeon who has developed an intervention. In fact, he won the MSA.”

  “You’re working with Dr. Calum Munro?” her mother asked, impressed. “I didn’t know that you knew him.”

  Seriously, Mom?

  She was impressed by Calum’s career in orthopedic surgery, but not hers. “Mom, I was engaged to him five years ago. You met him,” Pearl said dryly.

  “That’s Dr. Calum Munro who won the MSA?”

  “Yes,” Pearl said, exasperated. “He’s also the man you advised me not to marry. You were quite happy when our engagement ended.”

  “I never understood why you got engaged in the first place,” her mother said, ignoring the obvious facts that Pearl was pointing out. “I’ve told you time and time again it interferes with your surgical career. If you hadn’t been so focused on him five years ago you could’ve won the MSA by now.”

  Unbelievable.

  This was why Pearl had never told her parents that she was pregnant and lost the child. She had planned to tell them eventually, but she knew they would have said that it was a mistake and that she was throwing away her career. Once she lost the baby, she never saw the need to tell them any different.

  It was hers to bear.

  She didn’t want to share that with her parents. To share that with them would taint it. It would mean sharing her dreams, her longing for the baby, and they would make it something it wasn’t. They would try to undermine it, undermine her grief.

  Her grandmother had taught her, had given her the taste of a loving, supportive family. How her father came from such a caring woman, she had never understood, but it was because of her grandmother that she wanted a family.

  A real family.

  And if her mother or father knew what she wanted they would make her feel like she was a fool.

  And she wasn’t going to let them in. She wasn’t going to do that. She wasn’t a fool for wanting love and a career.

  “It doesn’t matter now, does it?” Pearl said, annoyed. “Mom, I have to go. I have dinner plans. A business dinner.”

  “Fine. Well, as long as you’re not going to see your father in Seattle, then you should stay and do your work.” There was a hint of something in her voice. Something that Pearl couldn’t quite put her finger on.

  “Goodbye, Mom.” Pearl disconnected the call and dropped her head in her hands. She suddenly had a pounding headache.

  There was a buzz from the intercom and she looked at the clock.

  Dammit.

  That was most likely Calum and she wasn’t even close to ready. How long had she actually been talking to her mother? How long had she been sitting here, lost in her own thoughts? This was not like her and she hated that she was losing control.

  Control was the only thing that kept the grief at bay. Control kept emotions at bay.

  She got up and went to the intercom. “Hey.”

  “Hey, Pearl it’s me, Calum. Are you ready?”

  “No,” she admitted. “I got stuck on a call. Do you want to come up?”

  “Sure.”

  “Great. I’ll buzz you in. I’m in the penthouse.”

  She tried to make herself presentable to answer the door. She was half-undressed, so threw on a robe and ran a brush through her hair. All she had to do was finish her makeup, get dressed and grab her notes, and then she was ready to go.

  There was a knock at the door and she peered out the peephole to see Calum. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw him standing there, her body reacting to his presence. She still wanted him, even after all this time. She was still attracted to him.

  She might have run from her grief because she thought it was for the best, but she still cared for him. He dressed so well. Like a professional, in a nice suit jacket, pants and a gray sweater.

  The gray sweater and the b
lue suit made his blue eyes even more brilliant, even through the peephole. Her pulse was racing and the butterflies in her stomach were beginning to do the can-can. She was nervous and she had to get control of herself.

  She opened the door and he looked her up and down, a smile quirking the corner of his mouth as he saw her in her tattered blue robe.

  “Well, that’s a little more casual than I expected,” he teased.

  “Shut up,” she groaned, stepping aside to let him in. She shut the door. “I had every intention of being ready, but my mother called.”

  Calum winced. “Oh, and how is the ice queen of Los Angeles? Does she still hate me?”

  Pearl laughed. “Well, she didn’t realize that the Dr. Calum Munro of the MSA and the Dr. Calum Munro the cad who wanted to marry her daughter five years ago were the same person.”

  Calum blinked a couple of times. “Are you serious?”

  “When it comes to Moira Henderson I’m always serious,” she said sarcastically and then scrubbed a hand over her face.

  “Was it that bad?” he asked.

  She groaned again. “You know her.”

  He winced. “Yes. I’m afraid I do. ‘You, sir, are a swine!’”

  She laughed at him mimicking her mother.

  “No one called me ‘sir’ before,” he said.

  She cocked an eyebrow. “Yet you’ve been called swine before?”

  “My sister did once. She called me Mr. Swine.”

  “Why?”

  “Oh, I borrowed her blanket for a fort outside, in a rainstorm. It got muddy.”

  “Ah, hence Mr. Swine.”

  “Dr. Swine is preferable.” There was a twinkle in his eye and she couldn’t help but smile.

  “It was the semiannual call about visiting her. She just doesn’t want my father to have one up her. And it’s the same with him. A tug-of-war after all these years.”

  “I wouldn’t know,” he sighed. “My father couldn’t be bothered with me.”

  She frowned. “He hasn’t changed much. He’s only around the team if investors are around. At least he’s cordial and nice.”

  “Well, that’s something,” Calum snorted.

  “Parents are the worst sometimes,” she said.

  “My mom was good,” he admitted. “I miss her.”

  And she was envious of him. At least he had had one good parent.

  “I miss my grandmother,” she said wistfully. “She was kind to me. You had your mom longer. She made a good impact on your life.”

  “That she did,” Calum admitted.

  “See, that’s why you’re more optimistic than me.”

  “Well, then you’re forgiven for making me wait,” he teased again.

  “Have a seat and I’ll only be a few moments.”

  Calum nodded and made his way to her sparsely furnished rental apartment. It was a bit more modern than her taste, but it was clean and bright and would do. It was a place to rest her head at night. It wasn’t home. It was just a place to stay while she passed through. Although she didn’t want to pass through. Not really. She was tired of that.

  * * *

  Calum wandered around Pearl’s apartment. This didn’t feel like her place. The place she had before they were together was a bit cozier and eclectic.

  Perhaps she’s matured?

  This apartment felt sterile. Like there was no life here.

  It was cold. It reminded him of her mother’s home the one time he’d been there.

  Is your place any better?

  His place was pretty similar. He didn’t have much furniture and his house was in shambles. When he wasn’t at the hospital he was working on renovations. He had bought it for a steal because it was near the Painted Ladies and in rough shape. After Pearl left him, he needed something to do when he wasn’t at the hospital.

  He needed to do something with his hands, to keep his mind off the grief, so he had decided to buy the house and slowly fix it up, so he could eventually sell it.

  He had a small apartment in the large house where he lived, while the rest of the place was gutted and was a work in progress, but a bedroom, bathroom and kitchen was all he and Max needed. The house had a small fenced yard, but that was perfect for Max to play in and do his business.

  There were enough parks nearby that he could take Max for a long walk. And when he had time they’d drive down the coast to the beach or into the redwoods and go on a long hike.

  It was perfect for him, though there were days he questioned why he was renovating such a large place. What did he need it for? He didn’t plan on getting married or having kids. The pain of losing Pearl and the baby had been too much to bear.

  He couldn’t lose anyone else. He couldn’t go through that again.

  So having a big house was a little foolish.

  Although there was a part of him, deep down, that had always hoped one day Pearl would come back. That they could get another chance.

  It was a foolish dream.

  It wasn’t really a home, either, but at least his furniture was a lot cozier and comfortable than this modern, white leather stuff.

  Calum sat stiffly on the edge of the couch and waited.

  He had been second-guessing this invitation out to dinner since he had invited her out to talk about George’s case. She had looked so worried about George’s scans, so devastated. And he was worried, as well.

  He hadn’t seen an osteosarcoma like that in a long time.

  “I’m ready.” Pearl walked from her bedroom and his breath was taken away when he saw her standing there. She was wearing a black dress. It was just a sheath dress and he’d seen that kind of dress before, on other women, but on Pearl it hugged all the right places. She looked sleek and professional.

  And the short dress showed off her legs.

  Legs that he intimately remembered wrapped around his waist.

  Don’t think about that now.

  “You look great. Much better than the robe,” he teased, trying to diffuse the situation and ignore the fact that just the sight of her made him want to take her in his arms and kiss her again.

  He longed to kiss her again.

  Even after all the hurt. He longed to kiss her one more time. He was losing control again, like he had in the on-call room, when he watched her sleep.

  It was hard not to lose control when she was so beautiful and he keenly remembered what it was like to have her in his arms.

  When she was his.

  Get a grip on yourself.

  “Thanks,” she said, and she blushed again. “I didn’t have much time to read the information you sent me. I’m sorry, my mother monopolized my time.”

  “It’s fine.” And it was. It was a lot of information and he really didn’t expect that she would have it all read by now. “I didn’t really think that you would have time to read it tonight.”

  She pulled her coat of her closet and he took it from her, helping her with it. His fingers brushed the nape of her neck, his blood heating.

  “Thanks,” she said quietly and then took a step back. “Well, I pride myself on doing my due diligence and doing my research. I’m sorry if I let you down.”

  “You haven’t let me down.”

  At least not in this situation.

  He opened the door for her and they left her apartment. They didn’t say anything else as they walked down the hall to the elevator.

  They stood stiffly, side by side, still not speaking, and he stared at the elevator door.

  Not sure what to say. Just listening to the sound of his pulse thundering between his ears and the whir of the elevator going down. It was awkward between them and he hated that it was. The elevator ride down was quick, and his car was out front of the building. He opened the door to his SUV and she slipped inside and sat on a squeaky toy, which let out a
horrible sound like a chicken was being murdered.

  She shrieked and then pulled out the rubber chicken. “What in the world?”

  “I’m sorry. That’s one of Max’s toys. I thought I got all of them out of the vehicle—apparently I didn’t.” He was trying so hard not to laugh at her horrified expression.

  Pearl was laughing and she gave the rubber chicken another squeeze.

  “It sounds awful!”

  “Reminds me of your singing,” he teased.

  Pearl gasped. “Are you again insinuating that I sing like this?”

  “What? When?” he asked.

  “When we studied for the boards and we were drinking.”

  He chuckled. “Right. Yeah, I suppose you do.”

  She tossed the chicken at him and he tossed it back, so it made that horrible sound again. Pearl rolled her eyes.

  “You’re so immature,” she hissed, teasingly.

  Calum laughed. “Perhaps. I would have to get you sing for me again though, but no Broadway music. Please. Don’t ruin another one of my favorite things.”

  “Ha, ha.” She threw the rubber chicken into the back seat and Calum shut the door, trying to stop laughing at the look on her face when she sat down on the chicken. That was one thing he always loved about her—she was able to roll with it. She wasn’t embarrassed and took something that would potentially irk someone else and laugh about it.

  She had a good sense of humor.

  He climbed into the driver’s side and started the ignition.

  “So where are we going?” she asked.

  “There’s a new bistro down by the wharf. I thought it would be nice to check it out. The view is lovely at night on the bay.”

  “Sounds good. I always did like it down there.”

  “You mean down by the bay?” he teased.

  “You really haven’t changed. You still really make horrible puns,” she muttered.

  “Is that a pun? I thought it was more like a coincidental anecdote.”