Page 12 of The Devil You Know
As opposed to every morning.
“My wife will send you a book about raising children,” Dr. Kirschstein says. They’ve got four kids, from all accounts I’ve heard.
“That’s okay,” I say quickly. “No need.”
“It’s a good book!” he insists. “I’ll bring it for you tomorrow. My wife says it helped her a lot.”
“Okay,” I mumble.
Hey, maybe it will help. His wife has not only raised four kids and put up with Dr. Kirschstein all these years, but she’s also a physician herself. Probably one of the first female physicians in the country.
“You’ll need to apologize to Dr. Reilly though,” Dr. Kirschstein says. “He’s quite upset.”
Fine. I’ll apologize to Dr. Reilly. I’m sure he’s going to chew me out anyway.
Dr. Kirschstein opens the door to the auditorium. I start to follow him, but then something hits me:
Dr.Reilly.
No.It couldn’t be.
Eight years ago, I was breaking up with Dr. Ryan Reilly so that I’d be free to date Ben. Ryan was… well, it’s hard to come up with a good adjective to describe him. He was handsome as hell—that goes without saying. He could be incredibly sweet and charming, but in the hospital, he was the biggest asshole you’d ever come across. He was always nice to me though.
For the most part, it wasn’t that serious between the two of us, but sometimes it feltveryserious. We both used to date other people from time to time, but somehow, we kept ending up together. It always felt so good andrightwith him. He was, deep down, a good guy and also anincredibly gifted surgeon. But Ryan had absolutely no desire for a relationship that would lead to marriage and a family. Well, he didwantthose things, but he couldn’t have those things. For reasons that only a few people were aware of.
When Ben came along, I ended things with Ryan for good. But of all the men I ever dated, he’s the only one I ever still think about.
As I follow Dr. Kirschstein through the door to the auditorium, I get this sick feeling in my stomach. Itcouldn’tbe the same Dr. Reilly. Reilly is a relatively common last name—there must be tons of surgeons with that name. What are the chances it’s the same guy? Also, Ryan would never work at the VA in a million years. I bet Dr. Reilly is some balding, middle-aged guy with a pot belly.
Except I happen to know that my Dr. Reilly did a fellowship in vascular surgery.
As I step into the auditorium, my worst fears are confirmed. There he is at the podium at the front of the room, wearing his usual green scrubs—Dr. Ryan Reilly. The only man who seriously occupied my thoughts through my three years of internal medicine residency.
And he looks great. Really, really great. Ryan must be in his mid-forties by now, but he’s every bit as good looking as he was when he was a surgery resident. Maybe it’s just because I’m older too, but he seems even sexiernow than he was back then. Every strand of gray in his golden hair, every fine line on his face just makes him all the more handsome.
It’s so unfair that men can get so much sexier as they get older, whereas women just getolder. I’ve gotten at least a dozen strands of gray in my red hair since Leah was born, and trust me, they don’t make me look more distinguished. They just make me look old.
And that’s when it occurs to me:
Ryan is going to seemefor the first time in eight years.
Oh crap.
Suddenly I regret every piece of beauty advice I never took from Lisa. Maybe I can find her real quick and get a five-minute makeover. Right now, I’m wearing some black pants paired with a gray sweater. And it’s not one of those sweaters that “hugs my curves” or some bullshit like that. It’s a fuzzy sweater. It’s warm and ugly.
I’ve got about five seconds before Ryan looks up and sees me. Maybe I can say I’m sick.
Of course, then it’s too late. Ryan’s blue eyes lift from the computer on the podium and he sees me across the small auditorium. A (sexy) smile spreads across his lips. I can see the lack of surprise on his face, and it’s clear he orchestrated this whole damn thing. I knew I should have changed my name when I got married.
“Dr. McGill,” Ryan says as I slowly make my way toward the front of the room. “What a pleasure it is to see you again.”
Dr. Kirschstein’s eyes widen, although it’s hard to tell because they’re mostly obscured by his eyebrows. “Oh! I had no idea that the two of you are already acquainted!”
I say, “We used to work together,” just as Ryan says, “We used to date.” But Ryan is louder.
“I met my wife in medical school!” Dr. Kirschstein booms. “And I don’t have to tell you that it was a very fortuitous experience.”
“It might have been,” Ryan says, “except Jane here dumped me.”
