Page 16 of Tempted By the Handsome Doctor

Maya seems to sense my discomfort and doesn't press. The song ends, and we step apart, the spell broken.

"Thank you for the dance," she says, and I can't help but smile at her prim librarian tone.

"My pleasure."

We continue our stroll through the festival, stopping to watch a glass blower demonstrate his craft, his movements precise ashe shapes molten glass into a delicate hummingbird. Maya asks intelligent questions about the process, her genuine curiosity drawing the artist out of his usual rehearsed spiel.

"You're good at that," I comment as we walk away.

"At what?"

"Making people comfortable. Getting them to open up."

She shrugs. "It's a librarian skill. Half my job is helping people find what they're looking for, even when they're not sure what that is."

"Is that what you always wanted to be? A librarian?"

"Not always. I wanted to be a writer for a while." She smiles ruefully. "Then I realized I prefer organizing stories to creating them."

"What kind of stories did you write?"

"Fantasy, mostly. Elaborate worlds with complicated magic systems." She glances at me. "Go ahead, make your nerdy librarian jokes."

"No jokes," I say honestly. "I think it's cool. Creative."

She looks pleased but embarrassed by the compliment. "What about you? Always wanted to be a doctor?"

"Since I was ten." I don't elaborate on the timing, on how my father's abandonment pushed me toward a profession built on fixing, healing, making whole what's broken.

"Well, you're good at it," she says. "At least, that's what everyone in town says. Lou's boy, the brilliant doctor."

There's no malice in her words, but I wince anyway. "That's the problem. I'm always Lou's boy here."

"Is that so bad?" she asks, genuine curiosity in her voice. "Being connected to someone everyone loves?"

"It's not bad, it's just..." I struggle to articulate feelings I've never fully examined. "I told you. I want to be known for my own accomplishments, not as an extension of his."

Maya considers this. "I get that. After Dad died, I was 'poor James Sullivan's daughter' for months. Everyone looking at me with pity, offering casseroles and platitudes."

"Exactly. And Lou is... larger than life in this town." I shake my head. "You should see how patients light up when they realize I'm his grandson. Half of them launch into stories about how he served them the best burger they ever had."

“My dad used to take me there for milkshakes after school."

"Everyone in Cedar Falls has a Lou's Diner story," I say with a rueful smile. "Everyone except me."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I grew up in the back of that place, doing homework in a booth while Lou worked, eating the same burgers everyone raves about until I couldn't stand the smell of them anymore." The words come out more bitter than I intended. "Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful for everything he did for me. But sometimes I felt like I had to share him with the whole town."

Maya is quiet for a moment, absorbing this. "That must have been lonely."

Lonely. Yes, that's exactly what it was, though I've never put it into words before.

"Sometimes," I admit. "But it made me independent. Focused."

"And it made you get an Audi and a fancy condo downtown," she adds, her tone gently teasing but insightful.

I laugh, caught. "Guilty as charged."

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