Page 33 of The Doctor's No-Strings Deal

“I’m not afraid of losing him,” Megan said quickly, even though it was a shameless lie. “It’s not like I even really have him right now anyway. We’re not in a committed relationship or anything.”

“You’d like to be, though.”

“Moth-er.” Megan tossed an empty taco shell at her mother, who caught it rather impressively.

“I see the way you look when you think about him, Megan. And when you talk about him, you get a full-on glow. I know the feeling.” She smiled a small smile, and Megan knew she was thinking about her ex-husband, Megan’s father. Their relationship hadn’t ended well, but her mother had never denied how well it started, and she always seemed to focus on the positive memories, especially when she was discussing the man with Megan.

“I do like the guy,” Megan admitted. “A lot. But we talked about it today, and he wants me to apply. It was funny — he also insisted you would want me to apply, too. I told him he didn’t know you, and he segued into demanding to meet you.”

“Ah, he loves you!” Megan’s mother had always been a hopeless romantic, and very little had changed over the course of their lives together. This time, though, Megan wasn’t so sure her mother was wrong.

“He might,” she said.

“He wants to meet your family. That’s a sign he’s serious.” Sadie took a large bite of the taco in her hand, and Megan was momentarily pleased her mother was doing so well today. “I want to meet him, this man of yours. What’s his name?”

Megan shrugged like the answer to that wasn’t nearly as important as it obviously was. “Charlie,” she said. “Charlie Sullivan.”

CHAPTER 16

CHARLIE

The sound of a ticking clock was a relaxing one for some people, but for Charlie, it only ever reminded him of his father’s study. Nothing relaxing ever happened in his father’s study. He waited there now, listening to that huge clock ticking away in the background while his father shuffled through papers doing God knew what before speaking to his son.

This had always been the way it was. His father would call him in and make him wait. When he was a kid, Charlie had just assumed his father was a very busy, very important man. Now that he was older, he had come to the conclusion that making his children wait was something Jon Sullivan did intentionally — probably to “build character” or something like that. The two words Charlie would use to describe his father werecoldanddemanding. But his brother had always assured him that was the only way his father knew how to show love.

Apparently, their grandfather hadn’t been much different. And the family had churned out doctor after celebrated doctor over the years. So, as they say,if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. The Sullivan family worked the way it was supposed to, and nomatter how Charlie felt about it, that was the way it would continue to work.

“So…” Jon tapped a pile of papers into a nice, even stack and slipped them into a file folder before closing them into his desk. “How has the residency been going?”

“Really well, actually.” Every time he spoke to his father, Charlie felt like he was in some kind of job interview. He had to word every answer carefully — pay attention to buzzwords, avoid certain implications — otherwise it could all go wrong so quickly. “Dr. Ralter is an excellent attending, and I believe he has been impressed with my work so far.”

“Good. And where do you think you fit in relation to the other residents?”

“I believe I’ve outperformed all but one of them.”

His father looked up with a frown. “Is this the same resident who was competing with you last time?”

Charlie couldn’t help a smile. “Yes, it is.”

“Hmm…” His father gave him a scrutinizing look. “You should have pulled ahead of that one by now.”

“I don’t know,” Charlie said. “I think it’s good for me to have a little competition. It helps to motivate me.” He saw Megan’s face in his mind’s eye and forced back another smile. “Shehelps to motivate me. In fact, we’ve been encouraged to apply for a research fellowship at Our Lady of Mercy. She’s my only real competition, so I encouraged her to apply, too. It’s going to be interesting to find out which one of us comes out on top.”

All while Charlie was talking, his father was slowly opening a desk drawer, pulling out a decorated wooden box, and openingthat, too. He took out two cigars and clipped the ends of them. “I think this is cause for celebration,” he said.

Charlie struggled to follow him. “I don’t know what you mean.” His father was never celebratory about potential. That was something Charlie knew for sure. Something else was happening here.

“You’re getting that fellowship.” His father held a cigar between his teeth and lit up. “Brandy?” He stood to cross his office and open a glass display case that Charlie was all too familiar with.

“Oh, no thank you.”

“You sure?” He took out a snifter and poured himself a glass. “It’s my best vintage.”

Charlie narrowed his eyes at his father and did his best to read the man’s body language. Unfortunately, like always, there was little there to read. His father was a closed-off man who never let down his guard. Charlie had figured that out as a child. He would watch his father closely to determine whether or not he was about to be in trouble, but his father never gave anything away.

Jon Sullivan was a tower of a man with white hair and a firm hand. He seemed like much less of a tower now that Charlie matched him, but somehow, he still made Charlie feel small.

“Can you explain what all this is about?” Charlie asked from his chair.

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