Chapter 23: Forgot To Tell You Something: Chapter 23

“How’s your food?”

I smile at Stefani. The woman has been glued to my side since the whole Owen debacle. Yes, that’s what I’m calling the shit storm that is my life. “It’s hospital fare. We aren’t setting the bar too high.”

She leans back in her chair, gauging me. Oh crap, here it comes. “Are you going to speak to him?”

I shove my food around my plate, avoiding her insistent stare. “Nope.”

“That’s it? Just nope?”

“I think that’s a perfectly acceptable answer.”

Stefani leans forward, grasping my forearm. “Only two problems with that answer. One is that you desperately love him, and the second is that you’re carrying his child.”

“Both are facts that Dr. Stevens never needs to know.”

She shakes her head, tapping her fingers on the table. Yes, she has gone over—several times—how Owen stopped by Wicked Chucks and how desperate he was to speak to me. She swears up and down that the man is crazy in love with me, and that Charlotte is not a threat.

The trouble with all that? She’s not on the receiving end of a bucket of lies, and she also didn’t see the woman who wore Owen’s ring.

I know it’s petty. I know looks don’t mean everything. Or they shouldn’t. But I also know that when you put me and Charlotte together on a menu—she’s filet mignon and I’m swiss steak. In other words? No comparison.

“Lu, you know that’s not fair.”

I release a groan, shoving my plate to the side. “You act like he’s going to care and want to be involved. He has an opportunity to go back to his former life. I can’t imagine why anyone would ever leave a world like that.”

“He was miserable, or so he claims.”

“And he’s happy here, dating a nurse, when he was engaged to a woman whose father owns half of San Francisco? Come on, Stefani, let’s not buy into another of Owen’s stories.”

My friend grasps my hands, squeezing them tight. “Then how about one of my stories? Will you listen to it?”

I soften, realizing that I’ve been a terrible friend this past week. I’ve been so focused on my predicament that a nuclear bomb could have exploded in Stef’s life, and I wouldn’t notice. “Always. I’m sorry that I’ve been so distracted.”

“It’s understandable, but I need you to hear my story before you make any final decisions about keeping Owen out of the loop. Do you remember when my family friend passed away from leukemia four years ago?”

I tap my finger against my chin, searching my memory banks. “I believe so. You’d only come back into contact with him recently, right?”

Stefani nods, her eyes filling with tears. “He wasn’t a family friend. He was my birth father.”

I’m glad I’m sitting, because I was not ready for that news. I’ve met Stefani’s father; she calls him Dad. Suddenly two and two isn’t four. “He’s…wait, what?”

“The man who raised me isn’t my biological father, but I didn’t learn that until five years ago, when my birth father appeared on my doorstep. At first, I thought he was an escaped lunatic, but then I realized that I look just like him. Spitting image. So, I called my mother, and she confirmed it.”

“Where the hell had he been?”

“Prison for the first few years and then rebuilding his life. He tried to establish a connection with me, but my parents threw up every roadblock, even resorting to blackmail. My mother thought she was protecting me, but in truth, she robbed me of knowing my birth father.”

“That explains why you were so devastated when he died.”

Stefani nods, pulling a sip from her water. “I only got a year with him, and he was sick for most of it. It took another year for me to forgive my parents for keeping me in the dark.”

“I don’t want my child to hate me for my choices.” Her story sends my mind spiraling. It casts an entirely new perspective on the situation, one my anger and jealousy wouldn’t allow before.

“Owen deserves to know. What he does with that information is up to him. If he acts like an asshole, cut him loose and never look back. But Lu,” she grabs my hand again, “he told me and Dan at the bar he loves you and will be there for every single moment. Sweetie, he knows.”

I’m shaking my head before she finishes. “I’m sure he doesn’t know, Stef. But I will give my decision some serious thought. Thank you for sharing that with me. I’m sorry you had to endure it.”

She wipes her eyes, forcing a smile. “Exactly. Which is why I don’t want my future godchild going through it.”

I chuckle at her assumption, even though she’s right. Who else would I pick? “It’s hard. I thought I found the one with Owen, but now I see that we have nothing in common.”

“That’s not true. He’s still the same guy.”

“No, he’s this ultra-wealthy cardiologist who was about to marry into a family of billionaires. He’s partied on private islands and yachts. I can’t afford a dinghy.” I motion to myself, moving my hands along my sides. “And his ex-fiancée, she looks exactly like a doctor’s wife should look.” I hate saying those words, but it’s true. After seeing her, I realize that Owen went slumming with me.

“I’ll bet Charlotte isn’t nearly as beautiful as you think.”

I choke on my water. “Trust me, she puts catwalk models to shame.”

“It’s probably all plastic surgery.”

“Does it matter? The woman is the definition of perfection. It’s funny though, and maybe it’s wishful thinking, but they don’t fit together. Both are so beautiful, but they seem mismatched somehow.”

Stefani perks up at my words. “You see? You and Owen were disgustingly cute. The way you looked at each other, and all those caresses and kisses on the down low—don’t think I didn’t see them. You two were made for each other.”

I would argue, but we were adorable. The spark between me and Owen could light up the eastern seaboard. It doesn’t help my bruised ego, though. “I know that I’m cute and cool, but I’m also clumsy and fun-sized and hide behind glasses.”

“All things I love about you.”

My head flies up and I narrow my eyes at Owen, standing right behind my chair. I should be used to the man’s secondary talent as a ninja by now, but as usual, he took me by surprise. It’s the first words he’s said to me since the showdown at his condo. No notes this time, either. He must realize we’re too far past that point.

“I see the glare is going strong today,” Owen comments, resting his hand on the back of my chair, his thumb tracing across my back. The move is subtle, and to anyone else, it looks innocent. But for me, it’s stoking an already simmering inferno.

I sit up, scooting toward the edge of the chair, ensuring his hand can’t touch any part of my body. Ever again.

“I guess that’s as close to a hello as I’m going to get, isn’t it, Tally? Hi, Stefani.”

My best friend nods in his direction but says nothing. She’s struggling not to get involved, and I know she’s torn with whom to support in this battle.

“Can I get you ladies anything? A coffee refill, a piece of cake.”

Hell, no, we are exchanging pleasantries. “You have a doctor’s lounge,” I snap, half turning in my chair to send him a withering glare. “Why are you here?”

“I was checking up on you. I do that about a million times a day.” He stalks off and I swivel back in my seat, meeting Stefani’s surprised look.

“What?”

“Lu—”

“What?” I repeat, my frustration mounting. “What do you have to add to this already crappy situation?”

“Nothing. Just know that I love you and please consider what I told you. I’m heading back.”

I nod, pulling out my e-reader. “I have another fifteen minutes before my next meeting. Going to catch up on some reading.”

She buses my tray for me, so I can focus on the next chapter. I’m devouring pregnancy books. I’m scared to death at what this little nugget is going to do to my body. I may be a nurse, but I don’t know nothing about birthing no babies.

“Can I talk to you?”

Oh shit, Owen is back. Without looking up, I mutter, “I’m on lunch. Can it wait?”

My snappy question is met with silence. I finally pull my gaze from the book and meet his stormy one. I can tell by the look in his eyes the answer to my question. “Not really.” Then Owen glances at my e-reader.

I press the button in a vain attempt to close the screen, but the man is too fast. He grabs the reader, his eyes widening. “What to Expect When You’re Expecting?”

“Give me that,” I bark, reaching for my reader. Damn him and his long arms. I don’t stand a chance.

“Tally, what’s going on?”

Time to play dumb. I despise the concept of the ditzy woman, but I’m about to test my acting chops with that role. “No idea. You wanted to speak to me, remember?”

“Darlin, why won’t you admit that you’re pregnant?” Owen sinks into the chair across from me, but I can’t read his expression. He isn’t angry, just guarded.

I cross my fingers under the table. God needs to understand. This is about survival. The survival of my heart. “It’s for a woman at the shelter. I know very little about obstetrics, so I’m helping her understand some nuances. Not that I owe you an explanation.”

Then I feel it, his hand on my thigh, tightening ever so slightly. “You’re a terrible liar, Tally.”

“I guess I should take some pointers from you, huh?”

I couldn’t have hit harder with a baseball bat. He swallows audibly, but his hand never leaves my leg. “If that’s what it took to have that time with you, I’d lie all over again. Loving you is worth it to me.” He slides back the chair, grabbing a pad of paper and a pen from his pocket. He scribbles something down before sliding it across the table to me. “This book is better. You deserve the best. I’ll get you a list of the best obstetricians in the area…for the woman at the shelter.”

He squeezes the paper into my hand before striding out of the cafeteria.

With trembling fingers, I unfold the note. It’s the name of a different baby book and underneath it, four words.

It’s in moments like these that staying angry with Owen is exceedingly difficult. Couple that with Stefani’s heartfelt plea to tell Owen the truth about the baby, and my heart and mind are as confused as a rat in a maze. My stubbornness may be legendary, but even it knows some boundaries.

I spend the next couple of days trying not to envision what Owen may or may not be doing with his ex-fiancée. I hate Charlotte’s beauty, how she’s the complete opposite of me. I hate that Owen gave her a ring and planned to spend his life at her side.

But the worst part? That they might reconcile and live out a perfect life in their ivory tower.

I get it. I do. Charlotte is worth more money than I can earn in ten lifetimes. Her family owns properties around the world, villas in Monaco and bungalows in Fiji. They have private jets and can finance a few third-world countries, should the desire arise.

How do I know this? In my downtime, I replaced my fedora with an inspector’s cap. I’ve been digging, not that it’s hard to find information on the Auerback family. Their lives are the stuff of legends.

With them, Owen is set. He’ll live a jet-set lifestyle, hobnobbing with celebrities and royalty.

Why would he ever settle for a normal woman like me?

Granted, I guarantee I’m a hell of a lot more fun than Charlotte—in and out of the sack.

I groan aloud. I didn’t want that visual.

“Are you okay?”

I shift in my seat, nodding at Owen’s concerned expression. In his defense, I groaned audibly in the conference room at Memorial. But I need him to stop being so caring. I can’t ever get over him if he continues to be nice to me. “Yeah, I forgot to do something for work.”

“Is this seat taken?” he motions at the chair next to me. There are empty spots all around the table. Why must he take the one next to me?

My mind is furious with the man, but my body is hot as hell for him. Just hearing his voice makes me flush with desire. I shake my head, catching the faint whiff of his cologne as he settles into the chair.

Pulling my braid to one side, I fiddle with the end. It’s a nervous habit, but I have to focus on something. Namely, because my mind wants to scream at him, and my body wants to rip his clothes off.

I need professional help.

Then I feel it. His fingers move along my neckline, stirring up every nerve ending.

“Your tag was sticking out,” he murmurs, his hand lingering against my skin.

“Funny. The scrub top is tagless,” I volley back, maintaining a focused gaze on my laptop.

Owen chuckles, but he doesn’t move his hand. “Caught me. I needed to touch you, Darlin. Even for a second.”

Damn these pregnancy hormones. My eyes fill with tears, which I blink back.

Then he speaks again, cutting into my internal mantra. “How are you feeling? How’s your stomach?”

“Fine.”

“No more stomach virus?”

I shrug, but I don’t look at him. I can’t. If I meet his gaze, it’s all over. I’ll cave. Again. “All better.”

“Glad to hear it. We should grab a drink after work. Celebrate.”

My stomach flips. “What are we celebrating?”

“You.”

“Me?”

“Yes. You feeling better. Unless,” his fingers are back on my nape again, “there’s something else you’d like to share. Something exciting we can celebrate together.”

The nerve of this man. Damn him for being so intuitive. I open my mouth to retort, throw out some zinger about celebrating the return of his illustrious fiancée, but Dr. Watts strolls in, signaling the start of the meeting.

“Is that a yes?”

I finally meet his gaze, ready to cut him down for his brazen arrogance. But one look at his face silences me. I’ve never seen his eyes so searching before. It’s a false bravado, his upbeat statements. I see it in his face. He’s terrified. “I—I don’t know, Dr. Stevens.”

“It’s not a no. I’ll take it.”

As the introductions start and the lights dim for the presentation, my mind remains on the man at my side.

Without thinking, I place my hand on my stomach, glancing down at where Nugget lives. I want this baby to have a father. A man who loves this child as much as I do. But how do I separate our involvement together into boxes? I don’t think I’m that strong. Hell, I know I’m not.

Something touches my knee, and I look up. Owen’s eyes are on me, vacillating between my face and my stomach, a small smile on his lips.

Thankfully, Dr. Watts starts speaking, and I force my mind back to the present. She’s singing Owen’s praises, but they’re all deserved. Under his tutelage, we are expanding the cardiac cath lab, a smart move considering our aged population.

In the short time that Owen has been a member of Memorial’s medical team, he has put into flux a huge number of changes. The most impressive part? They’re all for the betterment of the patients and staff.

Dr. Watts gives Owen the floor, and he discusses the training facility. I want to hate the idea, since it’s what brought Owen and Charlotte together again. But the concept is brilliant. Furthermore, it’s desperately needed to improve outcomes.

The facility will be state-of-the art, ensuring Memorial is regarded around the globe as a center of cardiac renown. Dr. Owen Stevens is a genius, and I’m as engrossed as the rest of the folks by his pleasant manner and engaging presentation.

There’s no pompousness there, Owen is truly excited by the idea of helping others. He’s like a kid at Christmas, speaking about improved patient outcomes.

A kid at Christmas.

Our baby will here next Christmas. If Owen is one iota as excited about our child as he is about the training facilities, he’ll be most the wonderful father, even if there’s nothing more between us.

I swallow back the overwhelming emotions flooding my body. Damn hormones. I cry at the drop of a hat these days, and my co-workers will think I’ve lost my last vestiges of sanity if I start bawling as Owen discusses training labs.

“I know we’ll need Tally’s expertise to get everything running smoothly.”

I snap from my reverie at the mention of my name. Crap, what did I miss while I was ogling the gorgeous cardiologist? “Sorry, what will I be doing?” I inquire, adjusting my glasses with an embarrassed laugh.

“Dr. Stevens was singing your praises, Lu. Or is Tally? That’s what he called you. Which do you prefer?” Dr. Watts inquires with a smile.

My face flushes as Owen slides back into his seat, his body brushing against mine. He had plenty of room. That was accidental. “Only a select few people call me Tally.”

I realize, one second too late, that I just announced that Owen isn’t like most people. At least where I’m concerned. I pray it slips by unnoticed, but the medical director chuckles, moving on to the next topic.

Busted.

I look at Owen, sending an apologetic glance. “I was listening, but I zoned out at the end. Sorry.”

“It’s okay. I was singing your praises. Not all of them, of course,” he adds with a wink. “Only a select few people know the real Tally. I’m lucky to be one of them. I plan on spending my life with you, Darlin, whether or not you like it.”

His statement damn near bowls me over, but I don’t have time to react. Stefani pokes her head into the room, and my heart sinks to the floor when I see her expression. She’s drawn, biting her lower lip as she motions for me.

Oh crap, I hope no one fell. That will make for a banner afternoon.

“Everything okay?” Owen questions, and I feel his hand brush my leg in a supportive gesture.

I shrug. That’s the best I can offer at the moment.

As soon as I step out of the room, a cold fear floods every cell of my body. Standing next to Stefani is the chaplain. “Oh, no,” I groan, slumping against the wall.

“Come on, Lu, let’s get you somewhere private.” Stefani wraps her arm around me, attempting to steer me out of the hallway.

I’m standing my ground. “When?”

“They found him this morning. They think he suffered a massive heart attack and died instantly. I’m so sorry, Lu.”

My Dad, my champion, is gone. The man who gave me piggyback rides and told stories of caves with dragons and knights, is no more. I fall back against the wall, hugging myself as the dam of emotions threatens to break loose.

I pull off my glasses, wiping at my eyes to ebb the flow of tears. I rub my hand under my nose, and I’m sure anyone passing by will think I just lost my best friend.

They’d be right.

“What the hell’s going on? Tally, Darlin, what happened?” Owen’s hand grasps my shoulder.

I don’t care who sees. I need Owen now. I grab him around the waist, burying my head into his chest. There’s no hesitation on his part as he enfolds me in his embrace, his fingers stroking my hair.

“Her Dad died,” Stefani whispers. I know my friend is dealing with her own grief over my father’s death. She knew Mr. Knowles before the demon that is dementia seized his soul.

“Oh, Christ. I’m so sorry, Darlin. I’m here.”

That’s all it takes for the levy to break. My body shakes with sobs, but for the first time since the discovery of Charlotte, I feel safe.

Owen is the only place I feel this way. How is it that the same man who breaks your heart is the only one who can heal it?

The sobs subside after a few minutes, giving way to sniffles. Not once did Owen loosen his grip. He tips my chin up, thumbing away my tears as I force a smile.

“I got your coat wet,” I mumble, wiping at my leaky nose and eyes.

“It’s fine. It’s more than fine. Let’s get you out of here, okay? I’ll tell everyone that I’m taking you home. Stef, will you get Tally’s things for me?” Just like that, Owen takes charge.

He disappears into the conference room, and I make a beeline for the bathroom. There are a ton more tears to cry, but I don’t want to field questions from everyone as I walk out of the hospital. Just like my nickname, only a select few are privy to my grief. Owen is one of them.

“Lu, are you in here?” Stefani asks.

“Yeah. Come on in.” I unlock the door, and my friend grabs me into another hug.

“I’ll be over right after my shift. I’ve put some calls out to get someone from night shift to come in a few hours early—”

“It’s okay. Really. Owen will take care of me.”

“See? I told you, he’s crazy about you.”

I nod, but I’m not entirely certain. He’s not an ogre, I’ll give him that. When I needed him, he was there. Just like he said he would be.

Too bad that doesn’t excuse the other situations, but I can’t focus on those right now. I need to focus on breathing.

“Owen asked if you could give him a few minutes. He’s talking to some woman.”

It’s an innocent statement. The woman could be anyone. But Charlotte is supposed to be present during the meeting today, and intrinsically, I know it’s her. “Where are they?”

“I think they went to his office.”

I nod, a flash of anger overtaking the sorrow. “Tall, thin, gorgeous?”

“I wasn’t really paying attention…yeah,” Stefani admits when I shoot her a scathing glare.

“That would be Charlotte.”

“What the hell is she doing at the hospital?”

“She and Owen are working together. Her family is financing the training center. Beyond that, I don’t know what’s going on with them. Doesn’t matter.” I ball up the towel, tossing it in the bin. “You have my things?”

Stefani nods, handing me my purse.

“Thanks. I’m going to get out of here.”

“What about Owen?”

“Owen’s busy. He has a training facility to build. I have a funeral to plan.”

“Lu, let him help you.”

“He helped. He let me cry it out. This isn’t his problem, Stef.” I give my friend a kiss on the cheek, offering a sad smile. “I got this.”

“Please Lu, I know you’re strong but the man—”

“I’m not angry at Owen. There’s no point. It’s a terrific undertaking, building the training facility. It’s going to help so many people, Stefani. Owen needs Charlotte. Sometimes you have to sleep with the enemy. Will you thank him for me?”

“He’s going to be furious if you leave without telling him,” Stefani warns.

“No, he won’t. We both have jobs to do, people to take care of. I’ll see you later.”

I pull open the bathroom door, stopping short. Not ten feet in front of me stands Owen and Charlotte.

Just wonderful.

“Tally, I didn’t know where you were.” Owen rushes forward, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. “Are you ready?”

I look past him, to where Charlotte stands observing the scene. I don’t pick up on any hostility from her, but then, I’m not picking up on emotion from her. “I’m ready.”

“Let’s go.”

I put my hand to his chest. “I know you’re busy. I can handle this alone.”

His eyes bulge, and he shakes his head. “No way in hell, Tally.”

“But Charlotte needs you—”

“No, she doesn’t. You do, even if you’d sooner die than admit it.”

I open my mouth to protest, but one look at his steel-gray eyes tells me to drop the argument. I’m not winning this one. “I have to go to the funeral home and—” It’s all I can manage, as Owen presses my head to his chest.

“We’ll get it done, Darlin,” he murmurs, guiding me down the hall.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Charlotte says as we walk past, but I can only mumble a garbled thanks.

I don’t have the energy to fight anyone anymore.