Page 129 of Just One Look
Revolving Door
He didn’t seethe man until they were through the gate and up the walk. He must have been out on the deck, because he came around the corner and said, “Hello, Elizabeth.”
He was so obviously her father. A big man. Not as tall as Luka, and not nearly as broad, but tall and broad enough. Probably a few Kg’s over what he’d weighed as a young man, though he was fit enough. His hair was gray and neatly cut, his face had Elizabeth’s high nose and her bump, and his cheekbones were as broad as hers, too. The same sternness and severity that she had when she was concentrating, but a look of ill temper to him that she didn’t have. He also used his size in a way she didn’t. Just now, he was standing with his hands on his hips, making himself look bigger, and doing his best to frown her down.
She said, “Dad? What are you doing here?”
“What do you think?” he asked. “What would make me cancel my surgeries and abandon my patients and fly ten thousand miles?”
She was struggling to answer, and Luka said, “Let’s go in the house.”
“Excuse me,” the man said. “Who are you?”
Elizabeth started to answer, but Luka got there first. “Luka Darkovic. The rugby player who’s living with your daughter.” He took the keys from Elizabeth’s hand, since she wasn’t doing anything with them, and opened the door. “After you,” he told the other man.
Elizabeth looked at him, wild-eyed, and he walked in behind whatever-his-name-was and set the shopping bags by the couch. She came in after him and shut the door, and Luka said, “Cup of tea, I think.”
“You’ve made yourself at home,” the man said.
“Don’t think I know your name, mate,” Luka said, filling the jug and setting it to boil.
The man’s mouth opened, then closed before he said, stiffly, “Baxter Wolcott. Dr. Baxter Wolcott.” He looked around. “This is where you’re living? What you gave up your beautiful townhouse for?”
“Yes,” Elizabeth said. She still didn’t seem to be doing too well. The old warring with the new, or something like that. “Please have a seat.”
Baxter looked around. “Where?”
“You could try the kitchen table,” she said. “Probably not as much dog hair there.”
Baxter shut his eyes, then opened them again, and Luka made the tea.
And the doorbell rang.
“Oh,” Elizabeth said. She was standing there, irresolute, so Luka said, “I’ll get it,” and went to open it. And found Lauren outside.
Well, this should be interesting.
* * *
Oh,mercy. She’d forgotten about Lauren.
Her stepmother faltered a moment on seeing Luka. Well, of course, she’d have known him well. It only took a minute, though, before she was smiling and saying, “Luka. How nice to see you.”
He said, “Hi, Lauren. Come in.”
When she did, he bent to give her a kiss on the cheek, and Elizabeth said, “Luka! Your neck!”
“I’m taking care, no worries. Surgery on my neck a week or so ago,” he told Lauren, who hadn’t seen Baxter yet.
She did not do drama. She had enough drama in real life. Shehateddrama.
Give Dad his tea,she told herself.Make another cup.She filled the jug again as Lauren asked, “Did Birdie—Elizabeth—do it? The surgery?”
“No,” he said. “She says there are rules about operating on people you love.”
Elizabeth knocked the mug of tea right off the counter. She tried to grab it as it fell, and realized in the same split second that there was no way.
Boiling-hot liquid flying. Porcelain shattering. Her father shouting and leaping to his feet. She thought,Wait. Wait.And tried to pull her jeans away from her skin, because she was burning. Luka was, somehow, in front of her in the same motion, unzipping the jeans and ripping them off her, saying, “Step out.”
