Page 20 of Dr. Lillian Harrington
Rebecca gave a small nod, her jaw tightening slightly as Vivian’s words echoed in her mind. Keep up appearances. That was all this night was ever about.
As Vivian drifted off into the crowd, Rebecca was left alone, scanning the room. The clinking of champagne glasses, the low hum of conversations, and the glittering gowns reminded her how much she hated this world. She could navigate an operating room with ease, but here, in the world of high expectations and superficial networking, she felt trapped.
Her eyes flickered across the crowd until they landed on someone she hadn’t expected to see.
Dr. Tessa Vaughn.
Rebecca’s breath caught slightly, but her face remained impassive. Tessa had been her one serious relationship, back during her fellowship. The woman who had gotten too close to seeing Rebecca in a way no one else had. And when Rebecca had pulled away, like she always did, Tessa had left, not just the relationship but the city. Now she was back, and Rebecca had no idea why.
Tessa caught sight of her almost immediately, and Rebecca knew there was no avoiding this.
"Rebecca Lang," Tessa said as she approached, a small, teasing smile curving her lips. Her voice was warm, familiar in a way that stirred something in Rebecca, though she quickly forced the feeling down. Tessa’s dark hair cascaded over her shoulders, and her silver dress clung to her in all the right ways. She was as magnetic as ever.
"Tessa," Rebecca greeted her, her voice cool. "I wasn’t expecting to see you here."
Tessa’s smile widened. "I wasn’t expecting to be back in this city, but life happens." She looked Rebecca up and down, her eyes lingering. "You look...different. In a good way."
Rebecca’s lips curved into a polite smile, but she wouldn’t let the conversation go where Tessa wanted it to. "I’ve kept busy. You?"
"Oh, I’m always busy," Tessa replied with a wink, taking a step closer. "But never too busy to catch up with an old...friend."
There was a flicker of something between them, a shared history that neither wanted to fully acknowledge. Tessa had been the one to walk away when Rebecca shut her out, but Rebecca hadn’t let anyone get that close since.
Before the tension could escalate, Rebecca spotted another familiar figure across the room: Dr. Evelyn Harrington, the matriarch of the Harrington family and the woman whose name was synonymous with the very institution they stood in.
What a mess.
"Excuse me," Rebecca said smoothly, her voice leaving no room for argument as she stepped away from Tessa.
"Evelyn," Rebecca greeted the cardiothoracic surgeon as she approached, her tone respectful.
"Rebecca," Evelyn replied, her voice a deep, authoritative rumble. Evelyn Harrington commanded every room she stepped into, her mere presence demanding respect. She wore a deep burgundy gown, understated but elegant, with her hair swept into a sleek bun.
"You look stunning," Evelyn commented, her eyes sharp as she appraised Rebecca. "And not just in appearance. I’ve heard about your latest surgeries. Impressive work."
"Thank you," Rebecca replied, feeling the weight of the compliment. Evelyn’s praise was rare and hard-earned, and unlike her mother’s approval, it didn’t feel conditional. "I’ve been focusing on more complex cases recently."
"Good," Evelyn said, raising her glass in a small toast. "But don’t let the work consume you."
Rebecca stiffened slightly, unsure how to respond. Evelyn’s words carried more weight than they seemed, but Rebecca wasn’t one to let her guard down.
Before she could reply, she spotted two more familiar faces approaching—Catherine and Rosalind Harrington, Evelyn’s daughters and two of the most brilliant surgeons in the hospital. Also, Lillian’s sisters.
Catherine, the eldest, wore a sleek black gown, her sharp features softened only by the glint of her earrings. She greeted Rebecca with a nod, her expression businesslike as ever. "Rebecca. Keeping busy?"
"Always," Rebecca replied, matching Catherine’s intensity.
"You’re working with Lillian, aren’t you?" Roz asked, her tone more casual, though her eyes sparkled with curiosity. Roz was the wildcard, always dressed with an edge of rebellion, her deep blue silk jacket paired with statement earrings that somehow worked. "How’s she doing? Living up to the Harrington name?"
Rebecca hesitated for a split second. "She’s promising."
Roz smiled, clearly amused. "Promising, huh? That’s Harrington speak for ‘she’s still got a lot to prove.’"
Rebecca let out a small breath, a forced chuckle escaping her lips. "You could say that."
But her mind wandered back to Lillian—back to the hospital, where their secret lingered in every glance they shared. And for a moment, Rebecca felt the walls of the gala closing in around her.
As the night dragged on, Rebecca did what she always did—kept up appearances. She networked with donors, exchanged pleasantries with her peers, and kept her distance from the cracks that threatened to show.
