Unchained Memories (6 page)

“So, should I include that in my request for hiring two new ER docs? That in order for me to have a serious relationship, I need to work fewer hours?”

“You can lay on the sarcasm, but one day you’re going to wake up and realize you’re lonely. And it will be too late to change your bachelor ways.”

“What does any of this have to do with Charlotte?”

“I don’t know. Maybe nothing.” Collins looked at him pointedly.

“Even if I did think about dating Charlotte, now that I know she’s a malpractice attorney, the point is moot. She’s on the opposite side.”

Collins peered at him over his glasses. “Sometimes, just sometimes, opposites attract.”

Chapter Five

Charlotte dashed into her condo, threw her briefcase on the floor and stripped her clothes as she hustled to the bedroom. The clock flashed six-fifteen and even though she wasn’t much of a primper, that gave her less than thirty minutes to make herself look...look what?

This wasn’t a date. It was a casual dinner with an old friend, as Clay had made a point of enforcing when he’d called. And she’d agreed. Yet, her heart danced as she jumped into the shower.

After having washed the wear of the day away, she opted for a wrap-around navy dress ,which clung, she hoped, in the right places. Yes, it was Thursday and yes, there were no expectations of a date, but they were meeting at Zoey’s, a five-star restaurant in the center of town. Why not look nice?

With a minute to spare, Charlotte entered the muted vestibule, her stomach somersaulting at the thought of spending the evening with her former crush. But no matter how many times she’d admonished herself to simmer down, it hadn’t worked.

She needed to act cool, disinterested, aloof. Which had never been difficult with anyone else she dated.
There was that word again. This is not a date.
And even if it was, Annie had indicated Clay’s reputation was that of a player. Although, it hadn’t been confirmed. In reality, he could be in a serious relationship, or gay. A laugh escaped at that thought. Impossible. Clay had too much testosterone, not to mention unending charm and sophistication where women were concerned.

“Charley, you made it.” His voice flowed through her senses.

She turned toward him and her breath caught in her throat. He had on a charcoal gray suit, white shirt and a navy tie. Oh, so sexy.

She leaned in, accepting a cordial kiss on her cheek.

“We have a table in the corner.”

They followed the maître d’ and Charlotte amusedly watched ladies’ heads turn, following Clay in his wake. How did he do that?

Sorry, ladies, but for the next two hours he’s mine
. She couldn’t help the self-satisfied smile insinuating itself on her lips.

Candlelight gave the room a soft, romantic glow, and large vases of fresh flowers were strategically placed on tall tables around the restaurant. Very elegant. Clay held her chair, and she eased into it, begging for every feminine charm she might have hidden within, to display itself at the right time. Evidently, her lecture to herself was not working.

“You look beautiful,” he said as he sat across from her.

She looked into his gorgeous green eyes and almost repeated the compliment. “Thank you,” she said instead.

His thick, dark brown hair hadn’t a strand of gray and his expensive looking suit molded itself to his slim, toned physique. Maybe he had a few laugh lines around his eyes, but they made him look even better.

“So, other than working at Nassau General, what have you been doing for the past ten years?” she asked, steering the conversation toward a more personal exchange.

He arched an eyebrow. “Are you asking about my love-life?”

Her face burned at his pointed question. He undoubtedly knew what she was after. And now she was embarrassed to admit it. But she wasn’t going to let on. Staying cool in uncomfortable situations was a trait of a good lawyer, and she had been practicing it since she’d started law school.

“Is that what you’d like to talk about?” Turning the question back on the questioner always seemed to work.

He smiled. A perfect smile. “There’s not much to say about that topic.”

His response annihilated her cool calmness and replaced it with unrestrained curiosity.

Just then a waiter approached and, after consulting with Charlotte, Clay ordered a bottle of wine. When he left, Clay gave her a knowing grin. “You couldn’t drink when I knew you before.”

“Must you remind me?”

“Sorry.” Light sparked in his eyes.

“Getting back to my question...”

“Yes, my personal life. Never married, no kids, no girlfriend.” He chuckled. “I guess I have no personal life.”

“Is this a recent problem, or have you been a hermit since I left?”

“Not a hermit. But I don’t have time for a relationship.”

She inwardly sighed. While problematically ecstatic he wasn’t connected to someone, she wanted to know more. Had he been in a long term relationship? Had his girlfriend broken his heart, or he hers? Did he avoid commitment at all costs or was he just going through a dry spell and using lack of time as an excuse? Her desire to pull information out of him conflicted with her need to protect herself. She didn’t want him to think she cared one way or another. More questions would just indicate more interest. She tamped down her innate nature to keep going and opened her menu.

The waiter came back with their wine, uncorked it and poured, advising them he’d be back in a few minutes to take their order.

“What about you?” Clay picked up his wine and clinked her glass.

“What about me?” Two could play this game.

“I know you were alone a few weeks ago at the Cancer Society Gala, but you never said if you were seeing someone. I’m assuming you’re not married.”

“Your assumption would be correct.”

“Engaged? Living with the love of your life?”

If he only knew he’d held that lofty position at one time.

“None of the above. I was involved with someone after law school, but it ended when I moved back here.”

“So, the boyfriend didn’t follow you here?”

Charlotte laughed. “No, thank God. We were over way before we ended it.” Of course, that was her fault, but no need to point out her flaws.

Clay shrugged. “Love is blind, as they say.”

His eyes held hers and she felt a connection so strong, so intimate, she couldn’t, wouldn’t, let go.

After a few moments, he broke the spell. “It must be awful for your sister to go through what she is. It must be hard on you, too.”

Clay reached across the table and took her hand, an obvious gesture of comfort. But that small touch sent shock waves through her system and arrows to her heart. She pulled away. She couldn’t let him see the effect he still had on her. Besides, it was ridiculous. She didn’t even know him anymore.

Her rude response unfortunately sent him in a different direction. “The other night you said you were at your parents’ firm. At the time I didn’t realize you were a malpractice lawyer. What made you get into that?”

A knot formed in her gut at the underlying censure of his words. She hadn’t anticipated this subject coming up so soon. As a matter of fact, she had naively hoped to side step it all night.

“I...I don’t know.” She wasn’t ready to tell him the truth. Although, she wasn’t sure why. Maybe because it would sound accusatory.

“Your parents didn’t practice that kind of law. It seems odd you’d find yourself suing hospitals and doctors after everything Dr. Collins and others at the hospital did for you.”

His politeness had a biting undercurrent. That, and the ensuing guilt brought about by the truthfulness of his statement made her lash back in defense.

“My clients have a right to be represented, and to be represented well. My current client is only twenty-four and paralyzed because of an error made by someone at your hospital. She deserves to be compensated for her pain and suffering, for her loss of employment, for her future medical expenses.” Her voice was getting louder with her argument and Charlotte toned it down. “I’m sure, if Dr. Gallway and the hospital were not sued, they would not voluntarily give her the money she needs to live a less than spectacular life as a quadriplegic.”

“And you think money is going to make her better? Doctors are under the gun every day, dealing with life and death situations, doing the best we can. We all took an oath to do everything in our power to heal the sick. We’re human. We make mistakes. Just like everyone else. When something like that happens to a patient, we agonize over it.” The pain in Clay’s eyes twisted at her heart. He was one of the good guys. But that didn’t make her, or her client, the bad guy.

“Suing people, or institutions that act negligently, make things better for the next person. If an anesthesiologist extended someone’s neck to intubate her and transected the cord, paralyzing her, then that victim has a right to damages. The doctor is responsible for his actions and the hospital is responsible for them as well.”

“You make it sound so simple.” Displeasure registered on his face. “Did you consider that her neck could have been injured in the car accident and it wasn’t Dr. Gallway’s negligence but the driver who caused her eventual paralysis?”

She groaned. Clay must have looked into the case. Either way, she shouldn’t be talking about it with him. They were on opposite sides, and he was too connected to the hospital to be an unbiased party.

“Let’s talk about something else,” she suggested, needing to move away from this firestorm.

He nodded his consent, but the muscle in his jaw tightened, a trait she’d forgotten about. Charlotte wanted to reach across the table and soothe it with her fingers, just as she’d always wanted to do as a teen when his anxiety surfaced.

But she didn’t. Instead, they ordered their meals, drank more wine, and moved onto safer subjects. Charlotte talked about college and law school and Clay discussed the ER. But the initial bond they had when they first arrived had been severed by philosophical differences and opposing careers.

Their swords had been drawn, and it would take a miracle to get them back in their sheaths.

****

Clay tossed his suit jacket over the sofa and removed the cufflinks from his shirt, dropping them on the end table. Frustration ate at his insides and his sigh could probably be heard next door.

It had been a long day.

Charley. He shook his head. Bright, beautiful, passionate about her work. But on the wrong side.

He flopped into his favorite leather recliner and rubbed his forehead, conflicting emotions giving him a headache. He should want to lose her number. Forget she’d moved to the area. There was no reason to see her again.

But that wasn’t how he felt.

He itched to pick up the phone right now. They could agree to never talk about work again—his or hers. They could call a permanent truce, take a stroll through town, and he could kiss her in the shadow of a streetlight. He laughed. What a crazy, romantic thought coming from a guy who avoided romance at every turn.

He didn’t have time for such frivolities. He was as good as the next guy in inviting a lady out to dinner, then back to his condo for a tangle in the sheets. There was really no need to waste time on flowers and candy or strolls in town. And there was no shortage of women who didn’t mind the lack of courting.

But Charley was different. He’d known her as a teenager. He’d seen her pain as well as her heroic rise above it. She’d been vulnerable at first, yet she’d stayed positive and battled through a very tough time in her life with the help of Richard Collins, himself and Matt, her temporary, mismatched surrogate family.

In retrospect, she’d only known them for a short time.

Maybe, if he could spend some time with her, educate her on the evils of medical malpractice suits, he could change her mind.
Yeah, right. That would work.

As he checked his phone messages, the doorbell rang, and he fleetingly thrilled at the thought it might be Charlotte.

But when he opened the door, he scowled in disappointment. “Matt, what are you doing here?”

“Is that any way to greet a friend?” Matt dismissed his rudeness. “I just left the hospital and thought I’d stop by for a beer. Check on the game.” He pushed past him and entered the living room. “What are you dressed up for?” His eyes moved over Clay, assessing his formal look. “An important date?”

Clay chuckled and closed the door. “No. Just dinner with an old friend.”

“A female friend? Anyone you could set me up with?” Matt wiggled his brows.

“Yes, to female. No, to setting you up.”

Matt plopped onto the couch in the living room. “You must be interested. Who’s the victim?”

Clay loosened his tie. “Very funny. Do you remember Charlotte Taylor?

“Are you kidding me? You went out to dinner with her? I saw her at the hospital last week. In Collins’ office. I didn’t recognize her at first. She’s no longer the scrawny girl with the limp.”

“She wasn’t scrawny or limping by the time she left rehab and went to college.”

Matt leaned forward, placing his forearms on his knees. “Remember how we got stuck tutoring her because Collins knew her somehow?”

Clay nodded. As young interns, if the chief of surgery asked them to jump off the roof, they would have done it. Making points with Dr. Collins was the goal. And if teaching calculus or physics to a young patient got them points, they were there. The extra bonus had come from helping Charley fly on her own.

“She’s come a long way,” Clay said instead.

Matt frowned. “Why would you take her out to dinner? She’s suing the hospital.”

Clay shook his head, ignoring the uncharacteristic annoyance in Matt’s tone. “Yes, I know. That fact made for unpleasant dinner conversation. I was hoping to make her see the light, but it didn’t work, so we changed the subject.”

“I guess she no longer hangs on every word you say.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t you remember how she used to follow you around, always asking you questions?” Matt went into the kitchen, helped himself to a beer and returned to the sofa. “She wanted you to tutor her because she understood you better than me.”