Page 49 of Attached At Heart
I’d never been to this part of the hospital before.
How much money did they spend to build this lavish hall with its high ceilings and rows of tables and classy decor only to use it to raise more money—money that they might have had if they hadn’t used it on this?
“I know this is not your scene,” Blake whispered in my ear as we walked into the gala, “but you should take notes on the things youdolike for the future.”
I frowned up at him. “For the future?”
“For your clinic,” he answered as though it was obvious. When he noticed people glancing in our direction, he wrapped his arm around my back, tucking me close to his body as we entered. “Someday, there will be a wealthy donor who wants to invest in you, too, Lane.”
My steps faltered at the thought, something that left me with a mix of emotions.
“It’ll be a fundraiser that’s on your terms,” Blake went on, reading my mind. “And you call the shots. It might not be so bad when you control the narrative.”
“WillI control the narrative?” I questioned. “Or will the person with the money still hold that power?”
Blake gave a little nod of acknowledgment to my point but then added, “But you get to decide who you want to work with and whose money you want to accept.”
While that did give me some peace of mind, I shook my head. “We’re getting ahead of ourselves. I might not even have those kinds of options when we get to that point.”
“You will, Lane,” Blake said reassuringly, casting a warm look down at me.
“Dr. London! I’m surprised to see you here.” A man I didn’t recognize, with thinning blond hair and a congenial smile, practically jumped in front of us. He held out his hand, which Blake accepted, giving it a firm shake.
“Davis, nice to see you.”
The warmth on Blake’s face faded until he wore a placid expression, and he spoke in a tone I knew well. His voice came across strong but soft—an odd combination that could only ever explain Blake London. Or rather, Dr. London.
Dr. London was intelligent in a way that, to others in the medical community, sometimes made him seem like a know-it-all. He took things seriously; for some people, it wastooserious. But it was only because he cared. Because he wanted to do right by people. Because he wanted everyone else to be just as much on top of their game as he was, knowing medicine was a collective effort. And the thing was, if, for some reason, youweren’tready and youweren’ton your game, he’d help you get there.
Blake didn’t have ambition in the same way I did. He didn’t want to be the best. He wanted to be surrounded by the best. And fuck, did I admire him for that.
The blond man glanced from Blake to our surroundings with a puzzled look. “You haven’t already left your poor staff over at Boston Medical, have you?”
Blake shook his head. “No, no. I’m here with my wife tonight.” He nodded to me and then tightened his grip on my side, pulling me closer. “Dr. Delacroix is a cardiologist at SCMC.”
“Pleased to meet you,” I said, thrusting my hand out to greet the man with my own firm shake and wondering why Blake knew people here that I didn’t.
“How lovely.” Davis grinned, looking between me and Blake with amusement. “Two married cardiologists.” He laughed to himself. “There’s got to be a joke in there about hearts somewhere.”
Blake gave a tight smile, but when he spoke, it was with a huskiness that sent a shiver through me. “After years of listening to other people’s hearts, we finally took a second to listen to our own, and wouldn’t you know what happened?”
He punctuated that statement with a brush of his lips against my temple, and I felt my body temperature rise.
“I love that,” Davis said enthusiastically, clapping his hands together, getting a real kick out of Blake’s little play on words.
Meanwhile, those words made my stomach flip, even though I knew Blake was just doing what we were here to do—schmooze. So maybe the sensations in my lower belly had more to do with the way Blake’s fingers had trailed from my side to my lower back. They moved in soothing circles, like he was reminding me to relax.
It was a little hard to comply with that at the moment.
“You know,” Davis directed the words at me, and I stood up a bit straighter, which caused Blake to flatten his entire palmon my low back, supporting me. “I have so appreciated your husband’s CPR initiative. He’s not only donating his time to provide these free CPR classes, but he’s making it so accessible for all members of our community. This man is so determined to reach everyone that he can.”
It was a good thing I’d already trained my face into a fixed smile tonight because otherwise, I definitely would not have been able to fool this man into believing I knew anything that he was talking about. Blake had been doingwhat?
When I opened my mouth but no words came out, Blake intervened. “Davis is the facilities manager I’ve been working with and has been kindly allocating space for the initiative at his clinic, which has ties to both the SCMC and Boston Medical networks.”
“That’s so great,” I gushed, glancing between Blake and Davis. I hoped it wasn’t too noticeable that I was blinking more than was really necessary.
“It’s myabsolutepleasure,” Davis said before he saw someone else he knew and went to give them one of his hearty, enthusiastic handshakes, which seemed to be his standard way of greeting people.
