Page 22 of Hidden Hero

Cora chuckled, shaking her head.Grand-kitties.Her mother would much prefer actual grandkids, she was sure. Well, that wasn’t happening anytime soon… if ever. The thought carried a bittersweet edge, and she sighed, pushing it away. Her gaze drifted to the cats, now finished with dinner and meticulously washing their whiskers in the middle of the kitchen.

Kneeling again, she stroked their fur, murmuring to them. They purred in reply, grounding her in their quiet companionship. Rising, she turned her attention to fixing her dinner. The routine task gave her time to think, though her thoughts inevitably strayed to the event she was attending the following evening.

The hospital was hosting a retirement party for one of the administrators, a dinner at a nice restaurant in Virginia Beach. Typically, the idea of mingling at a party filled her with dread, but it might be bearable if she could sit near someone she knew. No awkward small talk with strangers. She sighed.

The thought of Jeremy Pickett flitted through her mind again… far too frequently, in her opinion. He would undoubtedly love a large gathering as he charmed his way through any social setting without a second thought. She frowned, determined to push thoughts of him out of her mind.Not tonight, Pickett. You’re not taking up any more of my brain space.

After washing her plate, she retreated to the sanctuary of her bathroom. The deep tub beckoned, and she sank into the warm water with a contented sigh. But it didn’t take long for her resolve to falter. As she reclined against the bath pillow, her thoughts wandered, and there he was again. That damn smile, the way his eyes always seemed to glint with humor, and the inexplicable ease with which he seemed to command every room he entered.

She groaned softly, willing her mind to shift gears. Work. She’d think about the cases on her desk, particularly Fred Rudolph. But even as her thoughts touched on his case, they circled back to Jeremy. It was becoming a frustratingly familiar pattern. She closed her eyes and let the water soothe her, even as her mind refused to let go of the man who had no business occupying so much of her thoughts.

* * *

Cora leaned toward Sarah, the older woman’s voice soft but animated as she recounted her grandson’s budding interest in medicine. Sarah’s silver bob caught the light as she gestured, and her enthusiasm was infectious.

“I have no idea if you’d ever be interested in talking to him,” Sarah said hesitantly, “but?—”

“Sarah, I’d love to talk to him,” Cora interrupted warmly. “You know, my father’s a neurosurgeon. I may have started in medicine because it was expected of me,” she admitted with a sheepish grin, “but when I found research and pathology, I knew I’d found my true calling. It just took him a little while to accept my niche.”

Sarah chuckled, her eyes twinkling. “Oh, thank you! When he started asking me about research, you were the first person I thought of. I couldn’t imagine anyone better for him to talk to.”

Cora glanced around the long, lively table at the edge of the restaurant, silently thanking her lucky stars she’d maneuvered her way into sitting beside Sarah. They’d bonded quickly over shared experiences, and despite their age gap and differing roles in medicine, the friendship felt natural and comforting.

Laughter burst from the other end of the table, drawing Cora’s attention. For her, this was perfect—sitting at a large table but not feeling lost in the crowd, finding meaningful one-on-one conversation rather than trying to navigate a cacophony of overlapping voices.

Cora found herself enjoying the evening more than she’d anticipated. Across from her, a researcher from a different hospital had also provided easy conversation when they discovered they had known some of the same doctors at Duke.

Leaning back, she savored the last bite of her dessert, chasing it with a sip of wine. A sense of contentment washed over her, a blend of good food, lively energy around her, and the gentle warmth of the wine humming through her.

She glanced at her watch, noting the hour. Though she wasn’t on call tomorrow, the possibility of being pulled into work loomed, and the hour-long drive home beckoned. She debated whether it was too soon to leave when a few others at the table began to push back their chairs, initiating the rounds of hugs and goodbyes.

Relieved she didn’t have to be the first to go, Cora stood as well. Sarah followed, reaching out to embrace her warmly.

“You know,” Sarah said, pulling back just enough to meet Cora’s eyes, “tonight has made me realize how much I need to get out more. I feel like I’m either working or swept up in one of my husband’s schemes.”

Cora raised a curious brow. “Schemes?”

Sarah sighed dramatically, though her eyes sparkled with amusement. “He retired last month and has since decided to take every class under the sun. Cooking, gardening, woodworking with the grandkids—you name it, he’s doing it. He even mentioned ballroom dancing.”

Cora’s brows shot up. “Oh.” It wasn’t her most articulate response, but the thought of tackling so many new hobbies all at once left her momentarily speechless.

“Yet,” Sarah continued, her tone softening, “after all these years in medicine, I know I need to find a balance. I’m not quite ready to let it go completely, but one of my biggest regrets is not spending more time with people I enjoy talking to. Like you, my dear.”

Cora smiled, genuinely touched. “Well, I don’t have a husband trying to sign me up for a thousand new hobbies,” she teased lightly, “but I’d love to get together anytime you want.”

They hugged again, the gesture warm and grounding. Cora turned and leaned across the table to shake hands with the researcher she’d chatted with earlier, exchanging a few kind words. With a wave to the others, she found herself enveloped in a bear hug from the evening’s honoree, his gratitude effusive.

Cora made her way down the hall toward the ladies’ room, grateful for a moment alone before the long drive home. The evening had been pleasant, but she was ready to trade the lively buzz of the restaurant for the quiet comfort of her cats. After finishing her business, she navigated the maze of tables, her thoughts drifting to the blissful stillness awaiting her at home.

She was almost to the exit when her name rang out, stopping her mid-step.

“Dr. Wadsworth!”

Turning, she found Jeremy Pickett seated in a booth, his broad shoulders framed by the dark wood of the restaurant’s decor. Across from him sat a stunning blonde who, at first glance, made Cora’s stomach twist with a pang of unwelcome envy.

For a fleeting second, Cora considered picking the woman apart to find a flaw, but honesty got the better of her. The blonde was undeniably beautiful, and her makeup was perfectly applied to enhance her sharp cheekbones and full lips. Her pale blue dress clung in all the right places, dipping lower and fitting tighter than anything Cora would have felt comfortable wearing.Who am I kidding? I’m in scrubs or sweatpants ninety percent of the time. Even my “dress-up” look tonight is more casual than elegant.

She summoned a polite smile and approached, the restaurant’s noise fading into the background. “Detective Pickett. How nice to see you again.”

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