Page 23 of Five Stolen Rings

“I’ll help you.”

“Because she wants me to decorate for Christmas?—”

“We’ll put a Christmas tree in every room,” he says, holding one hand up like he’s making an oath. “I swear onGray’s Anatomy.”

And somehow I know that he’s not talking about the show.

“You are a doctor,” I say. The words come out accusatorially.

A little grin flickers across his face, a genuine one that warms me somewhere deep inside. “I might be.”

In truth, I could have looked him up already. I considered it more than once—many times, in fact, over the years. I could have asked my parents about him, too. But it was easier not to think about him; the regret was easier to ignore.

It seems stupid, now, and cowardly.

The next words that come out of my mouth are not the ones I intend to say. “You said you didn’t want to be nice to me.”

His grin fades. “So?” he says as his expression goes carefully blank.

“So you’re being relatively nice,” I say. “I’m wondering what changed.”

“Nothing changed,” he says with a sigh. “But sometimes we have to do things we don’t want to do.”

Ouch.

“Right now I have to stock beans,” I say, trying to keep my voice as neutral as his facial expression. “Give me your phone number, I guess.”

He holds out one hand wordlessly, and I pull my phone out of my apron pocket and hand it to him. He taps around for a moment and then passes it back to me.

“Later, Princess,” he says—and without another word, he spins on his heel and leaves. A brisk blast of winter air rushes in as he pushes the door open, so strong that it reaches me within seconds, but all the same…

I don’t think that’s why I feel so cold inside.

UNKNOWN NUMBER

Hey Stella! This is Lucretia! Here are the deets: A fun evening of Windsor alum holiday cheer! We’ve rented out a room at the Hyatt in Boulder for a glamorous party and white elephant gift exchange!

Me

All the way in Boulder???

Unknown Number

Yes! Is there something wrong with Boulder?

Me

Sorry, no! Thanks, Lucretia. I’ll see if I can make it.

JACK

For a man who desperately does not want to fall back in love with Stella Partridge, I sure am doing some dumb things.

“So let me get this straight,” Benny says later that night. We’re at Patsy’s, a dimly lit bar, though neither of us really drink—Benny because he’s a health nut and me because I spend more of my time on call than not. But it’s our traditional meet-up spot, and right now, I need someone to talk some sense into me.

Benny sets his drink down on the gleaming bar and looks over at me. “Nat Flindowski is coming to this reunion, so you asked Stella to pretend to be your girlfriend?”

“Yeah,” I say glumly. I can’t even meet his eye; I’m too ashamed. I look at my drink instead, swirling the straw.

---