Page 25 of Both Sides Now

“I’m a yoga instructor,” I manage. “That, and an acupuncturist and massage therapist.”

Megan looks from me to Keegan, who’s chortling to himself over the inanity of the situation. “I don’t get it.”

I’m through torturing the poor girl. Placing a hand on her arm, I offer a gentle smile. “It was a joke. My friend wanted protection from overly exuberant colleagues, so that’s my job for the evening.”

A breath flies from Megan’s mouth and I see a spark of anger in her eyes. “It wasn’t funny.”

And I need to go. Now.

“Quite right.” I smooth my hands along my dress, my palms clammy. “Have a good evening, you two.”

Wading into the sea of doctors, I search for somewhere—anywhere—to hide.

“Callista, there you are.”

I whirl on my heel and throw my arms around a surprised Shawn, who returns the hug after a few awkward moments.

“Are you okay?”

With a stilted smile, I gaze up at my friend. “I don’t know.”

“Another glass of wine?”

“Please.”

Shawn and I settle at a table, spending the next hour engaged in small talk about the latest medical advances, golf and sailing.

Somebody shoot me.

Thankfully, my upbringing allows me to muddle through the requisite small talk, although I detest every blasted second. One thing is certain, I’m not the same woman as before Charlie passed.

I’m less tolerant of bullshit.

Time is precious and wasting it discussing things that don’t interest me with people who won’t recall my name tomorrow is not my idea of a good time.

My time with Keegan, however, was wonderful. Until his gorgeous arm candy showed up.

I excuse myself and head for the ladies’ room, grateful to dodge yet another analysis of country club golf courses. Standing at the mirror, I push a few stray hairs from my face, my mind flitting to Keegan’s gentle touch when his hand grazed against my cheek.

The bathroom door opens and I suck in a breath, steeling myself as Megan joins me at the sink.

She opens her purse and pulls out a lipstick, her gaze focused on her reflection in the mirror. “You seem rather close with Dr. Russo.”

“Not at all. I’ve only met him a few times.”

She pivots, her hand on her hip. “And when was that?”

I understand she’s claiming him as her own, and to be fair, she is intimate with the man. But I will not be chastised by aspoiled, overgrown child just because I had the audacity to speak to a fellow human being.

Fine, we were flirting a bit, but in my defense, I didn’t know she was there.

Does that make it right, though? We’ll go with no on that answer.

I finish drying my hands and toss the towel in the garbage. “Seeing as how I’m a patient of his, at his office. Are we done here?”

Her face blanches under her makeup, and I feel a moment’s pity for the girl.

Then she opens her mouth again. “I saw you two talking. It was a bit too friendly for my taste. Don’t think I don’t know what you’re trying to do, but it won’t work. He’s leaving with me.”

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