Page 43 of Auctioned to Dr. Daddy

And there’s something else, too. What if it’s the other way around? What if Demi thinks that I’m the reason we split up? I haven’t told anyone the gritty details of the divorce yet. If she thinks it’s gone down because I’m the one that can’t be trusted…

I don’t know how to change that.

“Alright,” I tell her, my own expression twisting into something more dour. Maybe it’s better to just drop the whole subject altogether. “Whatever you say.” I step around her, heading for the doors back into the hall. It pushes open soundlessly. “If that’s all it is, we might as well get back to our rounds.”

“Nate,” she says, “Don’t be like that.”

“Come on, Demi. We’re short-staffed as it is,” I tell her, irritated over the whole mess. Not just with her, but with myself for being so instinctively upset. I know that Demi’s a different person from Emma.

Shit’s just hard to untangle, sometimes.

After a moment, she follows me back into the hallway, and we finish our rounds. It’s the first time in a while that we don’t get coffee after work together. Instead, I go and pick up Tabitha straight after my shift is over, and head for the Rolls Royce.

“Alright, baby, in you go.” I get Tabby hooked into the car seat and then slide in behind the wheel. “Ice cream on the way home?”

“Yeah,” says Tabitha, perking up some now that it’s just the two of us.

As we pull out, I grab my phone and flip the DO NOT DISTURB mode off. Several texts and calls come in. I pause at the stop sign, letting the car idle while I get them sorted. A text from Kurt about dinner, and one from my brother asking for a call. Then two actual calls from my mother, and one from Emma.

With a frustrated huff, I set the whole thing aside for now. The rain is coming down hard enough that I want to focus totally on the road. So, we get ice cream on the way home, and once Tabitha is sat in front of the TV with her coloring books, I sit on the couch and start answering texts.

A confirmation on dinner to Kurt; I had been planning on inviting Demi to come with us, but now I’m not certain. I should give her some time to sort out what it is she’s not telling me.

And then a call to my brother, skipping the return text. It rings twice, and then Tyler says, “About time, Nate. I was starting to think you had changed your number again.”

“Not without telling you,” I say. “What’s up? You don’t usually ask for a call.”

“How bad did that storm hit your place?”

“House is fine,” I tell him, settling more firmly into the couch.

I throw one arm over the back of it, idly watching the cartoon cats prance about on screen. “But the hospital’s got some issues. You know, I’ve been telling the Director that he needs to just take the help we’re offering him and let us pay to fix up the east wing. He’s an old pain in the ass, though.”

“So, you could use some help?”

Tyler’s fishing.

I frown. “You know, I’m not Mom. You can just come out and say what you’re thinking, Ty. You don’t need to play games with it.”

“Not playing games,” he insists. “I’m just curious. I owe you a favor, right? For, uh, something.”

“Since when do we keep track of favors?” I ask. “Better question. Since when do you want me to cash in on them?”

Tyler says, sounding so falsely happy it’s almost grating, “I’m trying to help you out, Nate. We just had that huge charity auction here. St. Peters is in good shape. Solid staff, new building. Good on funds.”

“And you’re itching to come out to Seattle, to work at an old, understaffed hospital, with a pain in the ass Director that should have retired ten years ago?”

“Yep.” Tyler pops the word.

I groan, letting my head drop backward, against the ridge of the couch. “Why isn’t anyone just being honest with me about what they want?”

“Did you have a bad day or something?” asks Tyler, a little haltingly.

“Or something,” I say.

Tabitha shifts backward, so she can grab at my pants leg. “Daddy?”

“Hang on, Ty,” I put the phone in the crook of my neck. “Yeah, sweetie?”

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