Page 29 of Embracing Trust

Deborah’s eyes are wide. “What happened with this one?”

Pamela huffs. “She complained about Spencer and told me she thought he needed to be disciplined a little better—that he whines a lot.”

“What?” the women cry out in disbelief.

“She wanted to work seven until four. I need her to stay past dinner and help get the children to bed. When their father comes home, I’m exhausted, and I need that help.”

I can’t imagine having such pressure. Having a demanding job and a household to take care of when your husband also has a demanding career as a doctor. Wow.

I take a sip of wine. “What do you do?”

I can feel all eyes dart to me and hold like lasers.

“Excuse me,” Pamela says.

My palms begin to dampen, and my heart pounds in my chest.

Why couldn’t I just listen and not talk? Now everyone is waiting for me to answer. All eyes are on me. I don’t want to be the center of attention.

“Where do you work?” My voice is barely audible.

Pamela huffs and purses her red lips. “I’m a stay-at-home mother.”

It’s going to be a long evening.

Thankfully, Cynthia cuts in. “Erika, have you and Edward selected a wedding venue yet?”

I look around the room.

Where the hell is Luke?

Erika takes a sip of wine. “I’m convincing him.” She leans her head back and her long lean throat is revealed. “I did a photo shoot in Belize, and it was so tropical. The water and sand.” She closes her eyes apparently still dreaming of her time in the tropical foreign land.

Although I’m not sure what she has to do with a photo shoot, I don’t dare ask. I’m sure if she were a photographer anywhere in this area, I would’ve heard of her.

We’re summoned to the dinner table by one of Cynthia’s staff. We gather in the large dining room and are seated at the table. The staff serves each magnificent course and I try not to salivate over the phenomenal meal.

The talk during dinner is about vacations, a prominent politician in our state and some things going on at the hospital. I don’t have anything to contribute, so I enjoy my food and listen. Although Luke is sitting next to me, he barely acknowledges me. Not that I expect him to have a long conversation with me, he acts like we’ve never met.

I’ve checked my phone about fifty times—hoping for a text that’s more interesting than this. I’m even half tempted to find a game on my phone that rewards me for finding three gems in a row or helping the cook assemble hamburgers in his little cafe. Anything but this. And I swear if Erika jingles those bangles one more time, I’m going to take them off her wrists.

After the plates are cleared, the men move into the billiard room.

Billiard room? Seriously? I just wonder if Colonel Mustard is in there with a candlestick.

I grin to myself at my joyous sense of humor but don’t mention it to my new female companions. Ugh.

After I leave the dinner table, I make my way to the billiard room. I don’t spot Colonel Mustard, but the men are gathered around the bar. Dr. Hamilton pours brandy into snifters and hands them to his colleagues. Several of the men start a game around the pool table. Luke is seated at the bar. I approach him and put my hands on his shoulders. He turns to me, his face unreadable.

“Hey,” I say with a smile.

“What’d you need?”

Oh, it’s obvious I’m interrupting his time with the men.

I shrug. “Nothing. Just hey.”

Dr. Hamilton calls Luke to the pool table. “You can go back with Cynthia.”

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