Page 79 of Paging Dr. Hart
His body blocks my view as he picks something up off the desk. He hides it behind his back and grins at me mischievously.
“What is it?” I peek around his tall frame, trying unsuccessfully to see what he’s holding.
With a loud “surprise!” Ethan produces a gorgeous bouquet of long-stem red roses surrounded by babies’ breath. The flowers’ lush aroma fills the room.
“Ethan!” I exclaim as he hands me the blossoms. “They’re beautiful.” I press my nose to the scarlet petals and inhale deeply. “They smell like heaven. You didn’t have to do that.”
“I know I didn’t have to, but I wanted to.” He smiles crookedly. “They have a gift shop downstairs, and as soon as I saw them I thought of you. Thered reminded me of your hair.” He reaches out and runs a strand through his fingers. “Plus, I wanted to give you something to say good luck on your presentation. You’re going to rock it.”
With the flowers in one hand, I wrap my other arm around him in a hug. “Thank you,” I murmur into his chest.
He’s so tall that it’s easy for him to place a kiss on the crown of my head and then rest his cheek there. “What have you done to me, Tiffy? I want to buy you flowers and chocolates in a heart-shaped box.” His rueful laugh rumbles through my skull. “I hardly recognize myself, but I like it.”
I fill the hotel ice bucket with water and carefully place the flowers in it, arranging the stems so they spread out evenly.
After a few more lingering kisses, Ethan and I gather our things to head downstairs.
As I open the hotel door, he grumbles, “You know that five minutes into the lecture I’m going to bug you to sneak back up here.”
I face him in the doorway. “I’ll tell you what. Maybe if you’re a good boy, then we can come up here for lunch.” I wink at him on the word “lunch.”
Ethan’s answering smile lights up the room.
We make it through the first couple of lectures with a lot of fidgeting from Ethan. I ignore him as best as I can, although it’s hard to resist going back to the hotel room to do naughty deeds with him.
As 9:30 a.m. grows closer, my nerves ratchet up higher and higher.T3b, T3b, T3b,I mentally chant, determined to get it right this time. Before I know it, it’s time for my lecture. I ascend the steps and approach the podium. With microphone in hand, I begin my presentation. The slides click by as I go through the renal cancer case.
“Given that this patient’s cancer ascended into the inferior vena cava but remained below the level of the diaphragm,” I say, “his cancer stage is T3b.”
Yes! Nailed it.
With that out of the way, the rest of my presentation will be smooth sailing.
Ethan’s triumphant smile slices through the rest of the anonymous faces in the crowd. He does a mini fist-pump motion with his hand, which makes me grin. Even though I hadn’t told him I was worried about messing up thatpart of my lecture, he had known. That’s how well he understands me. It’s a special thing, to be seen and accepted like that.
Focusing on my presentation, I continue. “I’m happy to report that this patient recently had his follow-up CAT scan and remains cancer-free. We will continue to monitor—”
The door at the back of the lecture hall bangs opens, letting in a shaft of light that shines directly into my eyes, blinding me. I pause, momentarily disoriented. It takes a second to blink away the bright spots that remain as the door closes. Once my vision clears, I see the figure of a man who just walked into my conference.
A green-eyed man who obviously doesn’t belong.
Rafe.
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Time slows down as I stare through the crowd to the back of the room. I have two thoughts in rapid succession.
Thought one is:What is Rafe doing here?
Followed by thought two:Oh my god. Ethan!
Ethan and Rafe together in the same room are enough to give me a heart attack. I search through the dark until I find Ethan in the audience. He’s looking up at me with a concerned frown, no doubt wondering why my lecture came to an abrupt standstill. He hasn’t noticed Rafe yet. I’m worried that if Ethan sees Rafe, he’ll recognize him from Epcot yesterday. I need to get Rafe out of here before that happens.
But first, my lecture. I clear my throat and stutter. “Excuse me…um…as I was saying, we will continue to…um, monitor.”
I glance up, distracted by Rafe’s grim presence. The scowl on his face speaks volumes. My mouth goes dry as panic hijacks my brain. I stare into the crowd and a sea of unfamiliar faces looks back as I fumble with my computer, trying to advance to the next slide. Too many eyes on me, their weight heavy. Too many of my colleagues are watching me fail.
“Monitor this patient every six months for reoccurrence…” I swallow so loudly that the microphone picks up the sound. Another flick of my eyes shows Rafe hasn’t budged. His arms are crossed over his chest. His wide-legged stance suggests he’s an immovable object.
