Page 72 of Careless Whisper

He made it sound like a cardinal sin. But then emotions in my family were exactly that—a sin and a crime all wrapped into one.

“She and I are both upset that you walked away from a very promising trial partnership with Maren.”

“Maren isn’t getting the funding for the trial, so my working with her on it is moot,” I informed him as I settled back into the armchair I was seated in. “In any case, Maren is soon going to be out of a job and she’ll be lucky to hold on to her license.”

“That’s the other thing I want to talk to you about.” He raised his glass.

“Okay.”

I was barefoot, wearing jeans and a T-shirt since it was my day off. But I was catching up on work from before I left for Boston and New York. Since I’d come back home, I’d been in a funk—no surprise there. I’d finally, for the first time in my life, told a woman I loved her, and she’d looked at me like I was speaking Klingon.

I had spent a lifetime not wanting to get attached and have a marriage as screwed up as my parents—but then I met Reggie. She was so different from everyone in my life. I’d thought it was because she didn’t come from the same social circles—and how wrong I was about that—and how much of a breath of fresh air it was.

But I’d been scared. As Dr. Cabrera had evinced about me, every time there was conflict, I found a way to extricate myself and not deal with it.

All that running away had brought me to this point in my life where I was alone, which I’d never minded before—but I was also lonely, and that was an entirely new feeling.

Reggie had told me to go fuck myself.

My heart was broken and I missed her like a heart in v-fib—erratic, desperate, and seconds from flatlining.

“Maren mentioned that she broke up with you, and you’re trying to get her fired because of it.”

I chuckled. “And what do you think?”

“That’s not who you are.”

Well, give the man theFather of the Yearaward already; he actually knew a little something about me.

“What the hell is going on between you and Maren?” he finally asked.

“Nothing,” I replied flatly.

“Elias, you know we’re friends with the Lorings, and what’s happening between you is causing issues between us.”

There it was, one of the rules in the trustyHow to Not Lose Influential Friendshandbook. Don’t make things messy. Don’t ask questions. And above all—don’t pick sides.

The Grahams and Lorings had gone on holidays together, sat on boards together, hell, our families had half their money tied up in the same endowments.

I eased forward, elbows braced on my knees. I didn’t owe my old man a thing—but I decided to give him the truth.

“Five years ago in Boston, Maren fudged data in a clinical trial, and a nurse flagged it.”

I told him the whole story—keeping my relationship with Reggie out of it. I wasn’t ready for him to know about it because he’d descend on the news like a hungry hyena on a carcass. After all, now Regina Sanchez wasn’t justsomenurse; she was a Lancaster. For her, I could dump Maren,absolutely—as the new alliance with the Lancasters would be more profitable.

After I was done, his head moved in a slow, solemn nod. “I see.”

There was a long silence between us—decades packed into it.

“Maren also mentioned that you have a thing going on with Faye Lancaster’s granddaughter.” He sipped his drink, watching me carefully.

Fucking hell!

I slid back in the armchair slowly, considering my words. “I know Nurse Reggie Sanchez.”

“She’s a Lancaster.”

I gave a small shake of my head. “She’s a surgical nurse at Harper Memorial. A damn good one, maybe the best I’ve ever had in my OR.”

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