Page 37 of Single Daddy Doctor Dreamy

Joel hesitates, his jaw tightening. “Rivkin. He showed up at the ER. Security had to escort him out.”

My blood runs cold. “Is he okay?”

Joel’s expression hardens. “He’s fine. Drunk and belligerent, but fine. The problem is, he’s pushing boundaries. Showing up at the hospital like that? It’s a power move. He’s trying to make a statement.”

“What kind of statement?” I ask, my voice trembling.

Joel meets my gaze, his eyes dark and unyielding. “That he’s not going down without a fight, but all he is doing is making things worse for himself.”

The weight of his words settles over me like a suffocating blanket. Before I can respond, Joel’s phone buzzes again. He glances at the screen, his expression shifting from frustration to something more serious.

“Stay here,” he says suddenly, his tone sharp.

“Joel…”

“Stay here, Lucy,” he repeats, already moving toward the front door.

I follow him despite his command, my heart pounding in my chest. “What’s going on?”

Joel doesn’t answer. He steps outside, his eyes scanning the darkened street. I peek out behind him, my pulse racing as I try to understand what he’s looking for.

And then I see it.

A car parked just down the street, its engine idling. The figure inside is obscured by shadows, but I can feel the weight of their gaze, their presence oppressive and menacing.

“Go inside,” Joel says, his voice low and urgent.

“Joel, I…”

“Lucy. Go. Inside.”

The steel in his voice leaves no room for argument. I step back into the house, my hands shaking as I lock the door behind me. Through the window, I watch as Joel approaches the car, his shoulders squared, his stance tense.

The figure in the car doesn’t move, but the air feels charged, like the moment before a lightning strike. My breath catches in my throat as Joel reaches the driver’s side window, his expression unreadable.

And then the car door opens.

18

JOEL

The car door creaks open, slow and deliberate, and for a moment, nothing happens. My pulse thrums in my ears as I take another step forward, the chill of the night air biting through my shirt. Then, Rivkin emerges, stumbling slightly as his foot hits the ground.

“Dr. Rivkin,” I say, keeping my voice calm but firm. “What are you doing here?”

His eyes are bloodshot, and the faint stench of alcohol wafts over as he straightens. Or at least tries to. He’s a mess, swaying on his feet, his tie loose and askew. “What am I doing here?” he slurs, his voice loud enough to echo down the quiet street. “I could ask you the same damn thing, Anderson. Acting like you’re so perfect, so holier-than-thou.”

“You’re drunk,” I state, my tone flat. “You shouldn’t be driving. Give me your keys.”

He laughs, a sharp, bitter sound that makes my jaw clench. “Oh, now you’re my babysitter, too? How noble of you.”

Behind me, the faint sound of the front door opening catches my attention. I glance back and spot Lucy peeking out from the doorway, her phone clutched tightly in her hand. She’s watching,her eyes wide with worry, and I know exactly what she’s thinking.

“Lucy, go inside,” I call over my shoulder, keeping my eyes on Rivkin. She hesitates but steps back inside. I’ll deal with her worry later. Right now, I need to de-escalate this situation.

“You think you’re better than me, don’t you?” Rivkin continues, jabbing a finger in my direction. “Just because you’ve got your perfect little life. Your perfect little…” He hiccups, losing his balance for a moment.

“You’re going to hurt someone,” I interrupt, stepping closer. “Hand over your keys, and we’ll call you a ride home.”

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