Page 28 of Beneath the Surface

A chill settled over the room. Isobel leaned back in her chair, her expression hardening as her words sliced through the tension. “Do you hear yourself, Andrew? Emma is not baggage. She’s a child—sick and suffering. Your lack of empathy is alarming.”

Andrew’s smile turned bitter as he grew defensive. “I’m just being realistic. Eleanor’s torn between two worlds, and it’s notfair to me. Or her. That chemo isn’t going to save Emma; it’s just delaying the inevitable.”

“What’s not fair,” Isobel said, her voice sharp, “is your attitude. If you really cared about Eleanor, you’d support her through this. Not wish away her child.”

Andrew stood abruptly, his towering frame looming over her desk. His eyes glinted dangerously as he spat, “Maybe I’m not cut out for this. But Eleanor needs to make a choice, and fast. I’m not playing second to a dying kid forever. And I certainly won’t have some high-and-mighty doctor telling me how to run my life.”

Isobel stood as well, her small frame projecting unwavering defiance. “Then maybe you should reconsider your place in her life. Eleanor deserves someone who can be strong for herandEmma—not someone who sees them as burdens.”

Andrew’s expression darkened further, his jaw clenched. He yanked the notepad from her hands and tossed it toward her desk, his lips curling into a smirk. “You know what? You could use a good paddling to fix that attitude of yours,” he muttered under his breath, his tone thick with disdain. He turned, slamming the door on his way out, the sound echoing through the room.

Isobel stood still, his venomous words hanging in the air.

She sat back down, putting together her thoughts. She had to write her response to the judge. After the interviews, she had little choice. She’d recommend custody to be transferred fully to Emma’s father as long as Eleanor remained in her current relationship, to be revisited if that changed. Even if Emma’s treatment wasn’t too harsh, any time she had to be in Andrew’s presence was dangerous.

As she was thinking, she looked down at her hands. Her left hand was bleeding where her notepad had torn the skin on her palm. “Shit.” She grabbed some tissues to blot the blood.

Kathy ran into her office the minute Eleanor and Andrew left and spied the blood soaking through the tissues. “What did he do to you?” She grabbed her hand.

“I’m fine. He pulled my pad out of my hand. The coils got me.” Isobel shook her head. “I’m going to dictate my preliminary report, and then I need to go home for the day. Could you make an appointment for me to meet with Emma, her father, her guardian ad litem, and her doctors as soon as possible?”

Kathy nodded. “I’ll have it here and locked in the file cabinet when you come in tomorrow.”

Isobel dictated her report and sent the recording to the dictation company. Kathy would send a courier to pick it up in three hours. After locking up her office, she headed to her car.

Her eyes went wide when she found Brad leaning against the driver’s door, flashing her a bright grin. “C’mon, I’m taking you out to dinner—no work talk.”

Eleven

The restaurant was softly lit, with lanterns hanging from the ceiling and the smell of delicious Chinese food filling the air. Brad and Isobel were seated at a corner table, looking over their menus.

She looked over the top of hers. “Thank you for this. You chose the restaurant. So, what’s it going to be?”

Brad smiled. “I put in an order for Peking duck as takeout yesterday. It has to be ordered in advance. I called Mr. Wang and asked him if I could eat it here instead.”

Isobel’s shoulders began to settle. “Again, I owe you a thank you. Crispy duck skin is my weakness. Could we get some dumplings to start with? You can’t go wrong with dumplings.”

He nodded. “Agreed. Dumplings are a must. And maybe some hot and sour soup?”

They placed their order with a mix of excitement and playful commentary as the waiter scratched notes on his pad. “So, Mr. K, that’s the Peking duck, an order of dumplings, and two hot and sour soups, extra hot and sour.”

Brad nodded. “Exactly. Thank you, Hu Yahou!”

As the waiter walked away, Brad and Isobel shared a look of contentment. The ambiance of the restaurant added a cozy, intimate feel to their dinner.

Isobel nervously took a sip of water. “I see you’re a regular here.”

“It’s got the perfect mix of good food and great vibes and doesn’t make me feel out of place if I eat here alone. Plus, it’s close enough that I can walk off the food coma afterwards.” It was also a short car ride from The Loft.

Isobel laughed. “I didn’t realize you lived that close to town.”

“Yes, about eight blocks over. There’s nothing like a stroll through Whispering Hills after a big meal.” He sighed. “Helps sort out a workday too.”

“Hmm.” She cocked her head. “So, you’re not seeing anyone?”

Brad shook his head. “No. I keep a tough schedule. And sometimes there are secrets that need to be kept. Some women don’t understand that. You seeing anyone? If you are, I won’t rat you out to your sisters.”

Isobel grinned. “Touché, Commander Killian. No, I’m not seeing anyone. I don’t date often. Hell, I should say I don’t date at all. Forget high school. I had four nosy sisters. College, I was free to do what I wanted, but I still had four nosy sisters on my conscience. Then, I worked at a center in Sioux Falls doing my internship. My boss wanted to ‘do me.’” She made quotes out of her fingers. “He said it would relax me after a tough case. And when I did finally date, I did it with style. One man was very sweet. He would bring me flowers and other small gifts. One day I stopped by his place to surprise him with dinner. A man answered the door in a teddy and a feather boa. He invited me in to be part of a threesome. The last guy I had a date with wanted to know about all my cases. He thought I was like Clarice fromSilence of the Lambs.”

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