Page 84 of Where She Belongs
I watch as he nods, his expression relaxing slightly as he listens. “Yes, I can still make it today.” He checks his watch. “I’ll be there in about thirty minutes if that still works for you.” Another pause. “Perfect. See you then.”
He ends the call, reaching for his medical bag. “That was Courtney,” he explains. “I need to head up to his ranch toadminister travel vaccines. He’s leaving for a two-month film shoot in Southeast Asia next week and needs his boosters updated.”
“Oh,” I say, standing awkwardly, unsure where this leaves our conversation. “I should let you go then.”
Gabe hesitates, clearly torn between his professional obligation and our unfinished personal discussion. “Come with me,” he suggests suddenly. “It’s just routine vaccinations, nothing urgent. We could continue our conversation on the drive, and Gareth’s place is beautiful—great views of the mountains.”
The invitation surprises me—an olive branch I hadn’t expected so soon. “Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude on your patient relationship.”
“Gareth won’t mind,” Gabe says with a small smile. “Besides, he’s always asking about the doctor who set up the nonprofit clinic model I based mine on.”
“You talk about me to your patients?” I ask, oddly touched.
“I didn’t have to. He was pretty invested in us after seeing the viral Instagram posts. He was actually rooting for us to work,” he says, chuckling. “So, will you come? The drive gives us time to talk without interruptions.”
“Let me grab my bag from the car,” I say, grateful for the chance to continue our conversation.
Ten minutes later, we’re in Gabe’s SUV heading north out of Taos, the personal tension between us somewhat eased by the shared purpose of the drive. He navigates the winding road with practiced familiarity while filling me in on the Roman family.
“Gareth moved here about a year ago, looking for privacy,” Gabe explains, turning onto a less-traveled road that winds up into the foothills. “He splits his time between this place and his other homes, wherever they are. I can’t keep track. But he seems to be spending more time here when he’s not on location filming.”
“That’s how you met Courtney.”
He nods. “She’s… moved on, in case you’re wondering.”
“I wasn’t,” I lie. “But will it make things complicated, me going along with you?”
“She’s seeing someone new, so it shouldn’t be complicated,” Gabe says. “But she won’t be there. She was leaving the ranch when she called me.”
I glance at the darkening clouds gathering over the mountains ahead, a wall of gray steadily advancing over the peaks. “That storm looks serious.”
“Spring weather in northern New Mexico,” he says with a shrug, though I note him pressing slightly harder on the accelerator. “Unpredictable at best.”
We lapse into silence for a moment, before I gather the courage to continue our earlier conversation. “About what I did, Gabe. Breaking things off by email, ignoring your calls... I need you to know how sorry I am.”
He keeps his eyes on the road, but I can see his grip on the steering wheel relax slightly. “I understand the impulse, Andrea. Fear makes people react in ways they wouldn’t normally.”
“That doesn’t excuse it,” I insist. “I’ve spent my whole life thinking I know best for everyone around me. It’s a pattern I need to break.”
“Nobody ever said Dr. Martin was perfect.”
I roll my eyes. “Except the aforementioned Dr. Martin.”
The road narrows as we climb higher, eventually turning onto a private drive marked only by an unobtrusive gate that swings open as we approach. The Roman property unfolds before us—hundreds of acres of pinon and juniper forest surrounding a stunning contemporary home built into the hillside, its glass and stone structure blending harmoniously with the landscape.
As we pull up to the entrance, the first fat raindrops begin to fall, quickly intensifying to a steady downpour. We dash from the car to the covered entry, where a woman in her thirties—presumably another assistant—awaits.
“Dr. Vasquez, thank you for coming,” she says, leading us through a soaring entryway. “Mr. Roman is waiting in the study. He appreciates your fitting him in before his trip.”
“No problem at all,” Gabe replies easily, professional mode engaged. “This is Dr. Andrea Martin, a colleague who’s visiting from Albuquerque.”
The study proves to be a warm, wood-paneled room that would look at home in an English manor rather than a contemporary mountain home. Gareth Roman rises from behind a massive desk, looking every bit the action hero he portrays on screen—tall, fit, casually dressed but undeniably charismatic.
“Gabe!” he exclaims, then his eyes widen as they land on me. “And Dr. Martin! The famous girlfriend!” He crosses the room with an outstretched hand and a dazzling smile. “I was beginning to think he made you up. Been following your Hawaiian romance saga the moment it went viral.”
I freeze momentarily, caught off guard by his familiarity. Gabe clears his throat, looking slightly embarrassed. “Gareth?—”
“What? I’m just saying it’s nice to finally meet the woman who’s been all Gabe talks about since I met him.” Gareth winks at me conspiratorially. “Seriously, every check-up, it’s ‘Dr. Martin’s clinic does this’ and ‘Dr. Martin’s approach is that.’ Even before your relationship went public, I felt like I knew you.”
