“Exactly why I don’t think you should be making a rash decision. Maybe just listen to what he has to say before breaking it off completely.”
I didn’t believe I was wrong. As annoying as Grouch-face was, he was right about one thing: cheaters didn’t change.
Security unlocked the doors, the customers trickled in, and I abandoned all thoughts of Oscar and put on a smiling face. Wesley took hold of my arm, and I faced him with a quizzical tilt of my brows.
“Just a second,” he said. “I want to apologize. I’m sorry if I overstepped. I’ve known you all these years, and from what I’ve seen, you were never happier than when you were with Oscar.”
“Maybe so, but it was a fool’s happiness. And I’m anything but a fool.”
* * *
CHAPTER 3
* * *
Who the hell was I?
It made no sense that I would look for a stranger on a train, but that didn’t stop me from tensing with anticipation at the Bergen Street stop. More crowded than usual because of residual delays from an earlier train taken out of service, there were no seats, so I leaned on the door at the end of the subway car. There were people everywhere. The doors opened and I surreptitiously scanned the entering passengers, and when I didn’t see him—don’t kid yourself, Nash; you remember his name is Ethan—my already lousy mood deepened.
Then, through the window panels between the two train cars, I caught sight of a familiar mop of hair from the back. Ethan. He was squashed against the door and didn’t see me, so I could observe him without notice.
As usual, he wore a well-fitting suit. He would certainly mesh with the beautifully dressed salespeople, but with his effusive personality and stunning face, Ethan could’ve been a model. Recalling the muscular thigh pressed to mine and his strong neck, I could only imagine him without a shirt—ridged abs, a tight ass…
Damn, it’s hot in here. Too many people and not enough air.
I snapped to attention as a man, who looked a little younger than Ethan, started talking to him. Ethan smiled, and the two began to chat as if they were old friends. My lousy mood got even lousier, but like a voyeur, I spent my entire train ride spying on him and his new train friend. My gut swirled with dismay as I watched Ethan take out his phone and show the man something. It was too far away for me to see what was on the screen, but my imagination filled in the blanks. Maybe they were arranging a date or exchanging phone numbers.
The train stopped at Penn Station, and Ethan shouldered his way through the crowd and disappeared. My annoyance intensified at the hoard of humanity surging into the subway car, making it even more difficult for me to push my way out at my stop. And my morning deteriorated further once I entered my office and found Julia waiting.
“Did we have a meeting?” I asked her.
“No. I wanted to know if you were going tomorrow night.”
Puzzled, I gazed at her. “Going where? What’s happening?”
She looked skyward as if I were trying her patience. “The awards ceremony. How do you not know? It’s all over the hospital.”
I set my coffee on my desk. “I don’t pay attention to that stuff.”
“Your father is being given a huge award.” She tapped a dark-red nail to her cheek. “Why aren’t you going?”
“I never go to these things. So if that’s all…”
“Come on, Nash. Everyone attends. This isn’t the Christmas party or some silly Valentine’s Day thing. It’s a biggie.”
“Still not interested.”
“Your father—”
“Julia,” I snapped, harsher than intended, but I was getting annoyed at her harping. “I’m not interested. I don’t do parties.” I sat behind my desk. “So if you’ll excuse me.”
I had to give her credit. She was relentless. “Oh, come on. I’ve heard all the bigwigs in the hospital will be there. You have to go.”
“I don’t have to do anything, Julia, except get to work.”
“We can put in an appearance and go home and finish the night with a bang.” Her smile was bright, and her eyes sparkled. “So to speak.”
I was about to say no, but then I thought for a second. Would it look worse for me if I didn’t show up? My father would likely assume I didn’t want to face him, which was true—I couldn’t stand to see his face. But he might think I was hiding from him and giving him too much space in my head.
“If we do go, I’ll only stay for a little while, and certainly not for the awards ceremony. The last thing I want is to suffer through all the glad-handing and lousy rubbery chicken.”
Julia planted a kiss on my cheek. “It’s at The Pierre, so we can go together after work. Make sure you wear your nicest suit.”
“Bye, Julia. I have work to do.”
The door slammed behind her, and I shook my head in frustration. Why I’d let myself be sandbagged into this farce was beyond me, but I guessed it was better than sitting home alone again. Unfortunately, sex with Julia was becoming as solitary an endeavor as jerking off.
The day passed with me sitting in my office, answering phone calls from Roger, our CFO, figuring out how much to parcel out to each department, and working out the intricate details of our scholarship funding and how to manage all the different streams of money flowing to the hospital.
I loved numbers. They were black and white and never lied to you. What you saw was what was there. They weren’t trying to hide from you. Numbers were real. Figuring out a budget and having all the dollar amounts reconcile at the end was often a thrill. Almost as good as sex.
Hmm. Maybe I did have an issue.
At six p.m., I slipped on my jacket and left. My secretary had already gone, as had most of the administrative staff. I was usually the last one out the door. I took the train, and despite myself, I looked around to see if Ethan came on the train at Penn Station, but he didn’t. I went to the gym, ignored Mario’s subtle hints that he was free for the evening, and went home. Mario was a trainer, and a few times a month if I found the time, I’d go exercise. If he was there, sometimes he’d come home with me for a quickie, take a shower and leave.
I was angry for allowing Julia to talk me into going to the dinner. Before my father joined the staff at Mercy Hospital, I’d been able to keep my connection to him a secret—no one had ever asked if we were related. My father had attempted to pull me into his orbit, assuming I’d want to give a joint interview when the hospital news did a piece on him, but I’d refused. I loathed having my personal life on display. Unlike my father, I did not enjoy the attention.
Tomorrow night, despite Julia’s urging, I would only make a brief appearance in front of the big shots, then leave. With my father so in love with the camera, he most likely wouldn’t even notice.
* * *
The sight of a train leaving the station while running down the steps was one of the most frustrating things any New Yorker could experience. Thanks to a sleepless night over this damn dinner, I’d woken up late, something I never did. To compound the problem, one of the elevators in my building was out of service, which meant the remaining two were overcrowded, and I’d had to wait close to eight minutes before I could squeeze on. No matter that I’d hurried, I missed my usual train.