Page 13 of The Devil You Know
I glare at him. “That’s not exactly true.”
“It is,” he insists. “You told me you were seeing some other guy. He had some short name. What was it? Kip? Pip? Skip?”
“Ben,” I mutter.
“Right! Ben.” Ryan grins at me full-on. God, he is every bit as sexy as he was back then. “How did things work out with ol’ Ben?” He glances down at the wedding band on the fourth finger of my left hand. “Pretty well, I see.”
I finger my gold ring self-consciously. “Yes…”
“Well, congratulations, Jane.” His blue eyes meet mine. “I just wanted you to be happy.”
The thing about Ryan is that he’s not being sarcastic. He did want me to be happy. And he knew he couldn’t give me what I wanted.
I look over at Ryan’s left hand. No wedding ring. Just like he promised.
Dr. Kirschstein is staring at me with his eyebangs furrowed. “Do you have things under control, Dr. McGill?”
“Absolutely,” I lie.
I’m not sure whether I want Dr. Kirschstein to stay or go, but once he’s gone, I wish he’d stayed. Especially when I stand next to Ryan to help him with the computer and I can smell his aftershave. It’s the same one he’s always used and I feel my knees trembling. God help me.
“You know how to do this, don’t you?” he asks me. “I was told that Dr. McGill is the AV expert.”
He was told incorrectly. “I can do it.”
“They also told me you’ve been working here for over a year.”
I turn away from the computer to glare at him. “You were asking questions about me?”
He shrugs. “Why not? I was curious.”
“Okay, fine.” I raise my eyebrows at him. “Since we’re asking questions, how comeyoucame to work here? I thought you were snooty Park Avenue private practice all the way.”
Ryan grins at me. “What? Are you saying the VA is an inferior place to work?”
“No.” I feel my cheeks grow warm. “I’m just saying…”
Damn, why does Ryan Reilly always get me so flustered? Yeah, he’s hot. But I’mmarriednow. And Ben’s hot too.
Okay, not as hot as Ryan. Still.
“Their vascular guy retired,” he tells me. “They really needed someone to replace him. They offered me averygood deal. Trust me—I make a lot more money than you do, Jane. Probably by an order of magnitude.”
I don’t doubt that. My salary is nothing to get excited about. I still can’t afford that sofa Ryan used to have in his bachelor pad.
I watch Ryan open his email account to download his presentation, feeling slightly dizzy with déjà vu at the sight of those muscular forearms covered in golden hairs. He hasn’t changed his email address in the time since we dated. I know that because every single year on my birthday, Ryan sends me an email with the subject, “Happy Birthday,” but that is otherwise blank. He hasn’t missed one birthday in the last eight years.
“So,” he says as I load his power point presentation onto the computer, “I heard one of your responsibilities here is to take the new hotshot surgeon out to lunch today.”
“I can’t,” I mumble, not taking my eyes off the screen. If I look at him, I know I’ll blush. And I’m the sort of person who is really obvious about my blushes. I turn red like a tomato. Ryan either isn’t obvious when he blushes or he never, ever blushes.
“I think you have to,” he tells me. “It’s yourduty. If you don’t, I may have to speak with your commanding officer, Dr. Kirschstein. You could be court-marshaled for something like this.”
“I can’t do it,” I say, grateful to have an excuse. “I have this thing I have to get to at my daughter’s preschool.”
Ryan is quiet for a second. When I raise my eyes to look at him, there’s a sad expression on his face, although it quickly fades. “You’ve got a daughter?”
I nod. “Her name is Leah.”
