Second Chance With The Surgeon. Robin Gianna

Second Chance With The Surgeon - Robin  Gianna


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about each other not too long ago made her heart pinch. How in the world were they going to handle spending time together again?

      A deep fatigue crept through her bones and she found herself folding her good arm onto the table and leaning her head on it. Tonight and the next few days couldn’t go by fast enough.

      A large hand rested softly on her temple, its fingers caressing the top of her head. “You’ve had a big day. Let’s get your overnight things packed up. The sooner you can get to bed, the better.”

      “All right. But you don’t need to help. I can do it.”

      “Three hands are better than one.” He sent her a lopsided grin. “Show me where your suitcase is and we’ll get it done.”

      It seemed to take longer than it should to pack a few clothes and toiletries, but of course there were the dogs’ things to get, too. Their beds, with Hudson’s being a big armful, their food and bowls, their leashes... Finally Conor had everything stowed in the car and had come back to help her to the curb.

      “You want me to water your plants before we go?”

      “Water my plants?” She stared, astonished he would have thought of that. “You never even liked all the plants I brought to...to our apartment before.”

      “Just wasn’t used to having living things around that needed attention.” His smile disappeared. “And that was a poor choice of words, wasn’t it?”

      She knew he was referring to her. To her neediness and insecurities during their marriage. Something she wasn’t proud of. “Accurate choice. And I’m working on all that.”

      “Nothing you ever needed to work on. I told you that. It was all me.”

      Not true, and she knew it, but it was ancient history. “Anyway... I just watered the plants a few days ago, so they’ll be fine until I get back.”

      “Let’s go, then.”

      He helped her down the narrow stairwell of her apartment, then eased her into the plush front seat of his car. “It’s going to be a tight squeeze to get both dogs in the back seat, but they’ll be okay, don’t you think?”

      “They haven’t been in a car since...you know. When you brought them here.” Lord, this was feeling more awkward by the moment. “But I think they’ll be fine.”

      In minutes he’d returned with the dogs, who bounded into the back seat with excitement. Jillian had to laugh at how comical it was to see Hudson pretzeled in there, but his doggie grin showed he didn’t mind a bit.

      “This reminds me of a clown car,” she said, glad to have the dogs to talk about. “How many Hudsons can you fit in a luxury sedan?”

      “I believe the answer is one.” Conor grinned as he slid into the driver’s seat. The purr of the powerful engine competed with the sounds of the city as they drove through streets now brightly lit through the dark night sky.

      Jillian wanted to ask where his new apartment was, but decided to stay silent, since she’d be finding out soon enough. Besides, he’d said it was close to HOAC, and that was only one block away from Central Park.

      The car came to a stop in front of an old stone apartment building and Jillian’s throat closed. Yes, the man had upgraded all right. As though his last apartment hadn’t been prestigious enough...

      “Your new apartment is off Fifth Avenue? Wow.”

      “It’s a good location for work and a good investment.”

      He slid out of the car as a valet came from the building. She could see him talking to the man, who nodded and opened the back door to get the dogs as Conor helped her from her seat.

      “Alfred will bring your suitcase and the dogs’ stuff up, then get the car parked.”

      “You’ve really been slumming it, having to juggle with illegal parking in front of my place and walking up and down a bunch of crooked steps, haven’t you?” she said, trying to bring some levity into this distinctly uncomfortable situation.

      “I slummed it for plenty years of my life,” he said quietly. “And you’re the one who wouldn’t accept any money from me after our divorce. Which still upsets me. I wanted you to live in a better and bigger place, but you hated me too much to take even a cent.”

      “I never hated you. I just felt there was no reason for you to give me anything. Our marriage was a mistake for both of us and I just wanted to move on, like it didn’t happen.”

      “But it did happen.” He held her hand and looked down at her. “And I’m more sorry than you’ll ever know that I made you so unhappy.”

      If felt as if her heart was shaking inside her chest. They’d both contributed to their mutual miseries, hadn’t they? Definitely not all his fault. Something she’d come to see even more clearly over the past ten months.

      “Conor, listen. I—”

      The dogs leaped from the car, with Alfred holding their leashes, and Conor stepped over to take them. She wasn’t sure exactly what she’d been going to say, but was glad the dogs had interrupted. Everything had been said that needed to be said—or at least most of it. Hashing over it again would make both of them sad or mad or critical or defensive—just like before. None of those emotions would accomplish a thing—especially considering she had to stay at his apartment for a night or two.

      Cool and calm was the way to go. Starting now.

      Conor led the way to the elevator, which opened on to a floor with only two doors in the hallway. Obviously his new place was way bigger than even his other apartment. He unlocked one of the doors and gestured for her to go inside.

      “I’ll keep the dogs out here for a second, so they don’t knock you over on the way in.”

      “They’re not that bad. Though it’s true that they seem pretty excited to be checking out a new place.”

      It was like stepping into something from a magazine. He’d clearly decided to start over completely, since not a single thing in the entire space looked familiar. Modern furniture in neutral tones sat near floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out over the twinkling lights of the city, and beyond the curve of the windows was a huge kitchen with an island and bar stools. It was surprisingly as comfortable-looking as it was breathtaking, and she wondered how his designer had accomplished that feat.

      A familiar hollow feeling weighed down her stomach. The same weight she’d carried to every highbrow event they’d attended, knowing she’d never fit in to Conor McCarthy’s life.

      “It’s...beautiful. Really gorgeous. Congratulations.”

      “Thanks. I like it.” He unleashed the dogs, who instantly ran around, sniffing the room, then grasped her elbow. “How about sitting down until Alfred brings your things? Then you should take your pain meds and get to bed.”

      “Okay. I admit I feel pretty tired.”

      “I’d offer you a glass of the wine you like, but it’s not a good idea to mix it with drugs,” he said, a slight smile curving his mouth.

      “Are you sure? Because a glass of wine sounds pretty good.”

      She was kidding, though at that moment she thought maybe mixing alcohol and painkillers would be a good way for her to completely pass out and not have to deal with how strange this felt.

      He shook his head, probably knowing exactly how she was feeling since he doubtless felt the same way. Soon Alfred brought everything up, and Conor placed the dog beds at one end of the room, then filled their water bowls and placed them on the stone-tiled kitchen floor. Enthusiastic slurping by Hudson left puddles all around it.

      “Being the neatnik you are, I guess you’re glad to not to have to deal with doggie messes anymore.”

      “I got used to the messes. The dogs were always fun to be


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