Page 11 of Hot Doctor & Secret Baby

He shakes his head. "No. I never heard anything about you again until I saw you at that beach party last weekend."

My eyes widen. "You were at that party? You saw me? Why didn't you say anything?"

"Why didn't I–" He stops and flashes an exasperated smile. "Look, Vanessa. You and I had a good thing going in college. Or so I thought."

"So did I," I grumble under my breath as I take the first slow sip of my second drink. I thought a lot of things about him and us back then. But I know better now.

"And then you completely vanished from my life out of nowhere. I never heard from you again. You stopped returning my calls."

"I was doing us both a favor," I reply, trying not to lose myself in the awful memories of what those days were like…specifically the last day I ever saw or spoke to him.

My heart begins to ache, but I've had years of practicing this now. I know how to push it down and carry on like I'm fine.

"Doing us both a favor?" he scoffs. "What the hell are you talking about?"

The fact that he's so oblivious enraged me at first, but with each passing second I can feel a deep sadness mounting on me. All that anger is turning to sorrow, and I'm not about to let down my steely edge around him. I need to be cool, collected, and cutting.

"Excuse me for a moment," I tell him as I stand up, working hard to hold it together. "I need to use the ladies room."

The first tear starts to fall before I am even halfway to the doors of the restrooms, but at least my back is turned to him. I made myself a promise ten years ago that I'd never let him see me cry, and I'm not about to break that today.

I fly through the bathroom door and brace myself against the sink, sucking in deep breaths under the weight of my pounding heart.How could he really not know?

Maybe it's for the best that he doesn't know what really happened. He thinks I just didn't care about him. That I ditched him for no reason and didn't even bother wasting my time on an explanation. Basically, he expected me to treat him the way he treats others. At least this way I get to save face and pretend like he's right. I kind of wish he was. Things would have been easier if I never cared about him at all.

I splash some cold water on my face and freshen up until I feel my anger renew in full force. Only then am I ready to face him again. I storm out of the bathroom and back to the table, not wasting any time once we're face to face again.

"I don't want to waste anyone's time here," I tell him. "I just want to know why Bardot didn't hire me. I want to know whyyoudidn't want them to hire me."

"What makes you think I had anything to do with it?" He spikes a brow with that subtle smug smirk of his that I used to love. Now it turns my blood to lava.

"I didn't think you did originally. But now that I know you saw me at that beach party last weekend, I have to assume you had something to do with it. Something changed their minds about me suddenly. Are you telling me it wasn't you?"

"Maybe I did share an opinion or two," he says, rolling his shoulder. "Anything I said was purely professional and only in the interest of building the best possible team. It's nothing personal."

My right brow raises. "An opinion or two? Care to share what those opinions might have been?"

"You really want to know?" The corners of his lips curl ever so slightly. It's the closest thing to a smile most people will ever see on him.

"It's not a matter of want. I'd much rather go the rest of my life never hearing another word out of your mouth, especially not any that pertain to your thoughts about me. But unfortunately, Ineedto know why I didn't get this job so I can fix it."

He shakes his head. "You can't fix it."

"I'll be the judge of that. What is it that you think I can't fix?" I hiss, losing my patience.

"You can't change your whole personality," he says finally. "You're too emotional. This whole scheme today is a perfect example. You got turned down for a job and instead of just accepting that like a normal person, you called the head of the whole company and lied to get this meeting. You take things too personally, and when something doesn't go your way…you never let it go. You've always been that way."

"Itake my work too personally!?" I laugh in disbelief. I'm acutely aware of how shrill I'm getting, but I don't care anymore. This is officially war. "You're one to talk! The basis of your whole career is personal! You're certainly not any less emotional about your work than me. The only reason you do what you do is because you lost your mom."

The air shifts suddenly, along with the expression on his face. He sits back in stunned silence for a moment, like I've just punched him in the gut. I know he doesn't want to hear it. No one dares to ever mention the death of his mom without facing the wrath of Joshua. He doesn't want to hear about it, talk about it, think about it.

But I know the truth. I know he used to keep a picture of her on his desk in college, and I know every time he was losing motivation at school - he'd look at her smiling face and decide to keep going. He tries to keep it all buried down so deep, but I know his anger over losing her is the only thing that's fueling him. It's why he's never let himself get too close to anyone. He doesn't think he can survive that kind of loss again.

I know the feeling more now than I ever wanted to, far more than I did back then. But I don't feel sorry for him. The loss he's felt is tragic - yes. But it doesn't give him an excuse to use people and treat them like shit.

"You're not special, Joshua," I say softly. "You don't get the monopoly on grief. Thousands of people go through the same thing every single day."

He stands up, calm and collected as ever, and slowly buttons the front of his suit jacket. "I'm well aware they do, Vanessa. As you pointed out, I understand that better than anyone. That's why I'm working so hard to make it stop. I'm sorry you weren't a good fit for my team in making that happen."

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