Page 40 of Deeply Examined

If it’s not for me, that means it’s for another woman, which makes me want to melt into a puddle of tears and then throw these extremely pointy tweezers at his head. Seeing what these things do to my eyebrows, I could do some serious damage with them. I grasp the tweezers more tightly in my hand and ask, “What’cha got there, West?”

The guilty flush that climbs his cheeks has me gritting my teeth. I’m about to play dartboard with his face when he clears his throat and says, “I need to talk to you.”

Oh God, here we go. This is when he tells me to move out so his seven-foot-tall supermodel girlfriend can move in. I bet he won’t makeherlive up the spiral staircase tower like Rapunzel.

I send him a glare that makes him flinch backward, a puzzled frown pulling at his mouth. “Are you okay?” he asks me.

“Fine.” I put the tweezers in my pocket and slouch into the living room, where I fling myself on the couch, already planning my next steps.

Monica will let me sleep on her couch if I ask.

West sits next to me. He carefully places the box between us, handling it like it’s a stick of dynamite that’ll explode if he moves too fast.

I eye the package, resisting the urge to childishly knock it onto the floor and stomp on it.

“Well?” I prompt.

“You’re coming with me to the charity gala on Friday,” he says, his lips pursed and jaw set. He stares at the carpet like he’s inviting it rather than me.

“What?!” My brows hit my hairline. That definitely wasn’t what I was expecting. A pleasant warmth runs through me. He’s not kicking me out. He’stakingme out. My happy feeling is quickly replaced by annoyance once I fully process the arrogant way he just said it.

“Are you ordering me or asking me?”

Gray eyes drift to mine and then bounce away. “Um, asking, of course. Didn’t I ask?”

“No. You didn’t,” I answer, my tone flat.

He clasps his hands in his lap and manages to look contrite. “Sorry. I’m a little nervous.”

At that admission, my hard feelings melt away like a snow cone on a summer day. “Where’s this gala? What’s it about?”

“It’s at the Art Institute of Chicago downtown,” he explains. “It’s in their conservatory. They have it every year. There’s an auction to raise money, and they always ask me to donate a prize. I usually say no, but this year they’re fundraising for a charity that supports homeless children and teenagers.”

“You want to help out?” I scoot closer, loving this generous and bashful version of West. I’ve never seen him like this, but I guess he’s never had to ask me for anything before. I’ve always been the one begging for favors.

He nods, staring at his hands. “I always want to help kids. When I started medical school, I thought I’d be a pediatrician.”

“What made you change your mind and go into obstetrics/gynecology instead?” I’ve wondered about his choice of specialty before. It’s not common to see men in that profession.

“I realized that by the time you see a kid with something wrong, it’s already too late. I figured the most important person in a child’s life is their mother. Give a kid a healthy mom, in both mind and body, and the kid has the best chance for success.”

My heart warms, thinking about how selfless he is. To make his career choice based on the needs of others.

“I guess we have that in common,” I tell him, lightly bumping my arm against his. “We both want to help kids.”

A small smile from him. “I guess so.”

“You want me to go to this gala?” I ask, refocusing on his earlier question.

“I need you to help me with the prize.”

“The one they’re auctioning off? What is it?”

“Me.” He lifts his head. “They’re auctioning off me.”

“Come again?”

“It’s a date with me. That’s the grand prize. I think it’s stupid, but one of my partners’ wives is organizing the whole thing. She gave me this big speech about how I’d be doing it for a good cause and everything. Next thing I knew, I’d agreed to it.” He leans close to me and, in a scratchy whisper, says, “She’s like a wizard. You listen to her talk in circles long enough, and you’ll agree to anything she says. Wait until you meet her, and you’ll see what I mean.”

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