From the Beginning (27 page)

She stiffened, a little surprised—and dismayed—by the suggestive warmth in his voice. “I probably wouldn’t be very good company tonight.”

“Hence the invitation. Come on, Amanda. I know this great little bar that makes incredible mojitos. Let me take you there, buy you a couple. It’ll cheer you up, and I promise, I have no nefarious intentions whatsoever.”

“None at all?” She raised her eyebrow, pretended suspicion.

He laughed. “None at all. I swear. Come on. It’ll be fun.”

She was tempted to agree. The only plan she had for the night was going home, painting a room and brooding about her daughter. Having a drink with a friend would keep her from brooding about Gabby.

And she used to like mojitos. They were Simon’s favorite drink, so she’d had more than her fair share, even if she had lost her taste for them after they’d broken up.

Going out with a friend, having fun. She added another X onto the checklist in her mind. Another solid step on her path to recovery.

“Fine. One drink,” she told him with a smile.

“Excellent! Let me finish up the cases I have in the rooms, and then as soon as Mike and Priss show up, we’re out of here.” He sent her a wink as he backed out of the door.

Amanda finished her charts while she waited for him, figuring his half an hour would be more like an hour—at the earliest. Lucas had a difficult time letting go, and she had yet to see him leave the clinic even close to on time. Not that she could talk, since she rarely left right after shift herself.

But to her surprise, thirty-five minutes later he was standing in front of her, car keys in hand. “You ready?”

“Absolutely.” She stowed her charts, said a quick goodbye to the two doctors who had just come in, and then they were off. She had a moment’s surprise when she saw Lucas’s car—a beat-up truck that was as far removed from the typical Harvard grad as he was himself.

“So, where’s the bar located?” she asked as they pulled into traffic. “I’m still trying to learn my way around Atlanta.”

“Not too far.” He named two streets she recognized, largely because they weren’t far from Simon’s apartment. She’d been there three times over the past couple of weeks and it had saddened but not surprised her to see how barren the place was.

“Good. That’s in my comfort zone, so I shouldn’t have too much trouble finding my way back.”

“Your comfort zone?”

“Yeah. I have about a ten-square-mile area that I’m familiar with. I’ve ventured outside it a few times, but I usually stay within it. Since everything I need is in those boundaries, it’s not bad.”

The look he shot her was rife with disbelief. “Aren’t you the world traveler?”

“Are you kidding me? In most of the places I’ve worked, I’ve been stuck in about three square miles of desert or island or whatever. I may have traveled to a lot of countries, but believe me, I don’t do many exciting things once I’m there.”

“Too busy working?”

“Exactly.”

He shook his head. “We make a great pair.”

“I’ve noticed you practically live at the clinic.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve noticed that you do, too. Maybe we should start planning to do things together—it will help get us outside our ‘comfort zones.’ Although, I admit, I’m willing to go more than ten miles in any direction.”

A warning bell sounded distantly in her head, not because he was teasing her, but because he seemed to take it for granted that they’d be seeing each other outside work again. She’d like to make a friend or two here, but the last thing she wanted was for him to get the wrong idea. She could barely handle the friendship she had going with Simon right now. Anything else was completely out of the question.

Although, if she was honest, it was more likely that Lucas felt sorry for her. She’d been working hard to get more sleep and regain the fifteen pounds she’d lost, but to date, she’d only managed to put on three. Which meant she was still too thin, too drawn, too tired- looking.

It also meant she was being ridiculous. Shooting Lucas a grin, she finally let herself relax. They chatted casually the rest of the way to the bar.

She had a few seconds’ hesitation when she walked into the place, largely because it was decorated in shades of Gabby’s favorite color, green. For a second, she almost walked back out. How could she be here, having a drink, on Gabby’s birthday? How could she be trying to have fun, when her daughter would never get to do any of this?

As if he could sense her hesitation, Lucas grabbed her elbow and propelled her to a table toward the back. As they slid into the booth, she was struck by how understated and comfortable the place was. She’d been imagining some chic downtown bar where people tried too hard to impress members of the opposite sex, and instead he’d brought her to a place that had a really nice neighborhood vibe. An upscale neighborhood, sure, but still a neighborhood and not a meat market.

They chatted over happy-hour snacks and what might have been the best mojito Amanda had ever had. Mostly they talked about the clinic, but occasionally the conversation got more personal. Lucas told her about growing up poor in Atlanta. His parents had worked overtime trying to feed their three kids and never gotten ahead. Many times they’d gone without the basics, like medical care, so that their kids could have a little more. That was why, when he’d gotten his Ivy League scholarships, he’d sworn to come back and help make life better for those who were struggling as his parents had.

She admired him for that. A lot of people would have taken their degrees and run, but Lucas had stuck it out. Had made something important in a community that had almost nothing.

Of course, he also got points for never prying—not once did he try to figure out why she was so sad. Instead, he simply tried to make her feel better. It had been a long time since she’d had such a nice, uncomplicated time with a man.

About twelve years or so, to be exact—unless she counted Jack.

As she was waiting for her second mojito to arrive, she got up to use the restroom. Raised voices were coming from a few of the stools positioned in front of the bar.

She paused and would have headed to her table to give whoever was so agitated time to cool off, except one of the voices, with its clipped British accent, sounded familiar. Pausing, she tried to get a good look in the dim interior.

She couldn’t see much, but then it came again. A very annoyed, very male, very drunk voice demanding another drink in the most proper British accent she had ever heard.

What were the odds? she told herself, even as she inched closer. Of all the bars in Atlanta, it was ridiculous to think that Simon would show up in the one she was sitting in. Especially drunk. She had never once seen him even close to tipsy in the years she’d known him.

Still, now that the suspicion was planted, she wasn’t going to be happy until she knew for sure that it wasn’t him. Giving up on subtlety, she strode over to the men—and felt her mouth drop open at what she saw. Simon was propped on the bar, sheer will holding him on the bar stool. It was obvious he was too hammered to function. One wrong move and he was going to end up on his ass on the floor.

There was an empty mojito glass in front of him and he was in the middle of arguing belligerently with the bartender, telling the man that he was more than capable of holding his liquor. Which made her wonder how much alcohol he had imbibed.

A hell of a lot more than one mojito, that was for sure.

A few people had gathered behind Simon, whether to order drinks or watch the show, she didn’t know. But as she wove her way through them, she got up close and personal with a man she was pretty sure was the club’s bouncer. Terrific. Simon was famous enough that getting tossed out of a bar, totally drunk, was sure to raise eyebrows.

When she was finally close enough to touch him, she lay a hand on his elbow. “Simon?” she said. “You okay?”

When he turned to her, his eyes were bleary and unfocused, his face slack.

Shit. He was really gone.

“How many drinks has he had?” she demanded of the annoyed bartender, wondering if she needed to worry about alcohol poisoning.

“Six in the two hours since he’s been here,” he answered, as he shook a martini for another customer. “But if you ask me, he was drunk when he walked in.”

“Terrific. Thanks.” She turned back to Simon with a frown. “Did you drive here?”

“No. Walked. Best mojitos in the city.” The words were slurred, his voice trailing off a little.

“So I’ve heard,” she told him drily. “Now, we need to get you home.”

“Not ready to go home yet.”

“Yes, well, I think the nice gentleman behind you thinks differently about that.”

“I want another drink.” He spun the stool around to face the bartender, but he moved too fast and ended up sliding off and into Amanda. And though she was strong, she weighed about seventy pounds less than him and couldn’t hold her ground. They both ended up on the floor.

“That’s it, buddy,” the bouncer said. “Time to close out your tab.”

Amanda was pinned underneath Simon, and since he was making no effort to try to get off her, she started to push at his chest. “Come on, Simon,” she muttered in his ear. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Okay. Let’s go.” He didn’t move.

Not even trying to disguise her eye roll, she shoved at him a little harder. “You need to get off me. I can’t move.”

“Oh. Sorry.” He tried to push himself up, but ended up sprawling more fully on top of her.

“Seriously?” she demanded, not sure if she was talking to Simon, the bouncer or the universe itself. Pushing with all her might, she finally got him to roll onto his back. She started to scramble to her feet, and then Lucas appeared, extending his hand to help her up.

“Quite a trip to the bathroom,” he told her, tongue firmly in cheek. “I thought maybe you’d run out on me.”

“I got sidetracked.”

“I see that.” He glanced at Simon, sprawled on the floor. “Friend of yours?”

“Actually, yes.” She bent and tried to tug Simon to his feet but didn’t get very far.

With a grin, Lucas hauled Simon up. “Does he have a car here that you can drive home?”

“It turns out he walked. I’ll have them call us a cab.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” her boss told her. “Let me close out our tab and I’ll give him a ride home before taking you back to the office for your car.”

She looked at Simon, bit her lip. “I think you should probably leave me at his place. I’m a little worried about alcohol poisoning.”

Lucas’s gaze sharpened. “Do we need to go to the E.R.?”

“I don’t think so. I just want to watch him for a little while, make sure he’s all right.”

Lucas nodded, and thankfully didn’t ask any more questions. He really was a nice guy—and an efficient one. Within five minutes, both tabs had been closed and they were pulling into the street.

Simon was stretched out in the backseat, so drunk that she didn’t think he even realized they were in a vehicle.

“I really appreciate this,” she told Lucas after giving him directions to Simon’s apartment.

“No problem. Though you know I’m going to pepper you with a million questions when you get into work tomorrow.”