Page 6 of Phoenix Rising

"Chicken and waffles?" Lucinda asked incredulously.

"You never had it? I guess you lot just eat blood pudding and beans." She laughed at her own joke, not noticing that Lucinda didn't join along. "It's fried chicken served on top of Belgian waffles. Sometimes hot sauce is infused in the syrup. It's a delicacy." She kissed her fingers.

"And this is a...dinner item?" she asked cautiously.

Rhodes put her hand up, silencing her. "Breakfast, Doctor. Or brunch."

"I see." But she still didn’t understand it.

Lucinda tried not to turn her nose up at the thought of fried chicken smothered in spicy maple syrup. Americans would honestly eat anything.

"Alrighty, I think this is your stop!" Rhodes stopped the car in front of a polished glass building reflecting the blue sky in its windows.

Lucinda stepped out of the car, grabbing her cat's carrying case from the backseat. Rosalind meowed begrudgingly.

"Almost there," Lucinda cooed to the animal.

Rhodes pulled out her suitcase from the trunk and dropped it on the sidewalk next to her, putting her hands on her hips like she had overcome a great obstacle.

"Thank you so much for your hospitality, Ms. Rhodes." She offered her hand.

Aleria grasped it and shook it like she was strangling a chicken. "Anytime, Dr. Everett. And I'll see you?—?"

"Tomorrow at 9," Lucinda answered.

"A.M.," she clarified.

"A.M." Aleria smiled before jumping back into her car.

Lucinda’s pleasant mask slipped off her face now that she was finally alone. She hated small talk, especially with someone so...cheerful.

Lucinda pulled her suitcase inside the lobby before checking in at the front desk to get her key. The doorman was happy to bring her suitcase upfor her and informed her that her car had been delivered the night before. A bit of tension released from her body as she realized everything was falling into place.

Lucinda pushed open her apartment door on the thirty-first floor. The movers had delivered the small amount of items she decided to bring that morning. A sleek, black leather couch sat in the middle of the open-concept living room. She spotted a mattress leaning against the wall in the back bedroom. The floor-to-ceiling windows looked out over the rest of downtown. She glanced down at the street. The people and cars looked like an ant farm scuttling from here to there.

Yes, this would do.

Lucinda wanted to switch up her life but not her lifestyle. She still needed to have marble countertops and a rainfall showerhead. If she was going to spend hours at the hospital, she needed her home to be her oasis, her sanctuary.

She set down Rosalind's crate and let the calico cat slowly ease into their new home. Rosalind immediately bolted to hide in a closet. Lucinda hoped she wasn't too traumatized by their international journey. She assumed the cat would ignore her for a few days and then would warm upto their new living arrangements. Rosalind and Lucinda were very alike in that way.

Lucinda opened her phone and started playing a jazz playlist before unpacking . She didn't bring much from London. Most of her keepsakes were in her parent's garage, but she kept the necessities: diplomas, pictures, old sweaters that she was curious if she would even need in this kind of climate. Maybe she could go shopping this weekend to find more appropriate summer attire.

She sliced her box cutter through the tape and removed the bubble wrap and miscellaneous soft towels from the top. She placed her medical books on the built-in white shelves in the dining room and spread out some old knick-knacks from her travels abroad. She ran a finger across the shelves, scowling at the amount of dust that had collected on her finger. She needed to hire a housekeeper immediately.

Lucinda rubbed her hands on her pants before continuing to go through her boxes.

"Hell," she cursed.

A picture of her ex-girlfriend Iris glared at her from the package. She picked up the silver frame, deciding what to do with it. Iris's long black hair was swept into a braid. Her smile was bright andexpansive as her face was pressed to Lucinda's cheek. Lucinda was wearing her reading glasses, obviously bent over her work until Iris interrupted her. Iris always thought she worked too much.

“When am I supposed to see you?”She would always whine.

It's not that Lucinda didn't want to spend time with her; it's just the time spent with Iris never outweighed Lucinda's work. That made her sound bad. Iris was fine—nice, even—but there had been no chemistry between them. No ravenous heat or connection.

She hoped that Iris didn't think she had moved from London to escape her. Their breakup wasn't bad, per say. It just fizzled out. Lucinda woke up one day and decided that they weren't a good fit. Iris was shocked; she thought Lucinda was going to propose, even though Lucinda told her time and time again she never wanted to be married.

Lucinda had been engaged once before but...

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