Page 95 of Ten Day Affair
I shake my head. “Dad, I've got it handled. I know you care deeply about how things look. I'm sorry if I embarrassed you.”
“I’ve always cared about you, not how things look. You’re a resident at a hospital where he’s a board member. That’s not a casual line to cross.”
"Well, good news. Good Samaritan is no more, so no more conflict."
"Sam, please trust me. He isn't a good idea."
I cross my arms, pulse thudding. “Where’d you hear this, Dad?”
Another pause.
“From him.”
My chest goes tight.
“Cole told you?”
“Yes.”
I laugh, but nothing about this is funny. “That’s rich. He tanked the vote and decided to take me down with him on the way out?”
“Sam—”
“No. He should have been discreet. There's noreason... Nevermind. I got the message, thanks. Anything else? Because I have to go.”
"Sam, you're overreacting."
My voice is rising, and I don’t care. I walk back to the counter and grip the edge, and my knuckles go white.
“I’m not asking for your blessing, Dad. But if this ruins me, then it's on me.”
His tone shifts. “I’m not trying to shame you. I’m trying to protect you.”
“You’re too late.”
I hang up.
I don’t care if it’s dramatic.
I grab the glass of wine, down the entire thing in one gulp.
Of all the things Cole could’ve kept to himself, he told my father we were sleeping together. He didn’t protect me. Not with the vote. Not with my father. Not even with a lie.
The knock jolts me out of my embarrassment spiral. Then the door opens slowly.
I exhale and cross to the door, bracing myself.
To my surprise, it’s not Cole.
Kip, in light blue scrubs and sunglasses, pops his head around the slightly open door. When he sees me, he steps inside with two giant iced coffees, one in each hand.
His brows go up. “Hey, you. I brought some coffee.”
I blink and walk toward him, opening the door. “I thought your shift didn't end until seven?”
“I'm on break for an hour, and I wanted to check on you.”
I stare at him for a second too long, then step back to invite him into the kitchen.
