Page 46 of The Devil You Know
“I thoughtJanewould make it,” Lisa says. “I just wasn’t sure about her hubby over there.”
I glance in Ben’s direction. He’s eyeing a plate of pastrami and looking completely miserable. “It was close.”
“Poor guy,” Mike comments. “I think I’ll go talk to him.”
Mike makes his way across the Kirschsteins’ living room in a valiant effort to keep my husband from taking off without me. Once he’s out of earshot, Lisa leans in close to me and says, “If I were Ben, I wouldn’t leave mywife alone at a party when there’s a guy there who’s clearly got a thing for her.”
I turn to stare at Lisa. “What are you talking about?”
She grins at me. “You knowDr. Reillyis here, don’t you?”
I absolutely did not know that. And if I had known, I would not have come. I certainly wouldn’t have dragged my husband here. I look at Ben across the room, making awkward conversation with Mike, and I feel ill. “Are you sure he’s here?”
Her grin broadens. “Oh, very sure.”
“What’s he doing here anyway?” I cry. “He’s not even in the medicine department!”
Lisa glances around the room at the hodgepodge of guests. “I don’t think Kirschstein was very discriminating in who he invited. If he had a conversation with Ryan in the last month, I’m sure a party invitation was extended.”
“Great,” I mutter. I’d managed to avoid Ryan since he shoveled out my car last week, but the truth is, I’d been thinking about him. And it hasn’t helped matters than he’s been texting me every single day. His last text read:I feel like you might be avoiding me, Jane.
I’m glad Ben didn’t read that one.
At this point, Ben and Ryan have never met. And I’d really like to keep it that way, if at all possible. But it looks like fate might intervene.
I spend the next fifteen minutes mingling with my colleagues from the primary care department, as well as the random other people that Dr. Kirschstein invited. I don’t see any sign of Ryan anywhere, which gives me hope that maybe Lisa was wrong. Or maybe Ryan was here, but he took off. Or maybe Lisa was messing with me—also entirely possible.
I end up pouring myself a stiff drink, and make myself a plate of crackers and pate. Since I’ve been working in primary care, it’s always frightened me to eat pate or any other organ meat. I see too many men fighting painful gout flares and organ meat is a culprit (although it pales in comparison to alcohol). Still, I love pate, so if it’s here, I’m going to eat it.
I probably won’t get gout.
I’ve taken a swig of my drink when I feel the tap on my shoulder. At first I’m terrified that it’s Ryan, but then I see that it’s just Ben. He’s holding a half-empty cup of seltzer water and looking nonplussed.
“Listen,” he says, “can we go?”
I look down at my watch. “Ben, we’ve been here only fifteen minutes.”
“Yeah, but…” He shifts between his feet. “This is really boring. I don’t have anyone to talk to.”
“What about Mike?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know. We didn’t really have anything to say to each other. It was awkward.”
I shake my head. Dr. Kirschstein is never going to be cool with me taking off after only fifteen minutes—I’ll never hear the end of it. “Can’t you wait a little longer?”
“How long?”
“I don’t know. An hour?”
Ben looks at me like I told him that we’re never going home and we’re just going to live here from now on. “Anhour?”
“Ben…”
“I can’t stay here for another hour,” he says. “I’m leaving. Now.”
Now it’s my turn to stare at him in disbelief. “You know I can’t leave…”
“Fine,” he says. “So ask Lisa if she can give you a ride.”
