Page 42 of Love in Training
“Oh, Drew.” She leaned on the broom handle, considering him. “I see you, you know.”
He swallowed and looked straight at her for the first time in a month.
“Do this work right now if it’s what you need.” She sighed. “You’re already a brilliant physician. You’ll get another fellowship.”
He frowned. “Mom, I don’t?—”
“We all grieve in our own ways. I’m focusing on this scholarship. Your father drank boxed wine for a month after Kyle’s death.” She curled her lip. “He got through it, and you will too.”
He had no idea what to say, so he just nodded.
“Your brother left a hole we will never fill.” Her face fell briefly, but then she plastered on a smile. “We know you’ll make us proud. And we’ll be cheering when you do.”
CHAPTER
FOURTEEN
I takeRufus for a run after lunch, resenting Drew Forbes with every breath in and out, even though my bodythrillsfrom the cardio. The dog seems just as into it, matching my pace easily, panting in a more athletic and less frantic way. We don’t see any surly dog trainers lurking behind trees, and that’s just as well. I didn’t get much sleep. If I spotted him today, I’m not sure I could land a roundhouse kick to the chest the way I’d like.
As we make our way from the elevator to my apartment door, both of us exhausted to the point we may have actually reached calm, my phone pings with a remote meeting invite from Randall. It starts in five minutes.
I curse out loud, trying to figure out what to do. Ask for vacation time starting immediately? I doubt I could get family leave approved to take care of an animal, even if I asked a month ahead of time. Instead, I rush into my bathroom to check my sweaty hair and face, and pull a CU sweatshirt over my grubby tank top. TheMile High Observeroffice tends to be more casual, but after four days at home and the first real sprints I’ve done in a week, my look is definitely more sweaty than glowy.
I splash water on my face, smooth my ponytail, and then brush my teeth—if only for mental preparation. When I log intothe meeting, I flip on the studio filter and smile when Randall appears on the screen.
“Caprice! You’re looking healthier than I expected.”
Crap. I tried too hard.
“Yeah, I’m... feeling much better finally, thank you. Been a rough week.”
Randall’s sitting in his office at our building on South Broadway. He’s wearing a white shirt that matches his goatee and accentuates the glare of lights off his pale forehead. He eyeballs the screen, speaking in his slow drawl. “Just wanted to make sure you’re okay. You get a stomach bug, or what?”
I turn to the side, conjuring up a cough, trying to buy myself a moment. It was dumb to say I was sick. I’ve stayed on top of every one of the assignment desk emails as long as they didn’t require I go anywhere or talk to anyone in person. I probably should’ve passed off more stuff to Jana, but my work ethic is too strong.
“Uh, no, not sure what it was. But I’m feeling better now, thanks.”
“Good. I’m bringing the team together tomorrow to discuss some of the spring features, and I’m hoping you’ll join us. Last we talked, you sounded pretty excited about that lead you were pursuing. Is that still in the works?”
I open my mouth, trying to figure out how to answer. I’m almost finished writing the Vanderpool feature. It would be ready in time for our next print issue. But I’m still not sure if publishing it will be an excellent career move or the biggest mistake of my life.
“Look, Randall, I’ve been...” Behind me, Rufus starts up a mid-level whine, and I glare at him. He can’t do this to me right now. We literallyjustcame back from a run.
“What’s that?” My editor peers more closely at the screen. I have my background blurred, but I’m sure the noise is coming through crystal clear.
“Um, well, it’s—” Suddenly, Rufus thrusts his nose into my lap and looks right at the camera. I rear back in my chair. “Whatare you doing?”
Randall’s brow furrows at the black and gold monster suddenly occupying my lap. Rufus just stares up at me like his head is too heavy to move. I shove his nose off my thighs.
“Caprice?”
“Okay!” I cross my arms, letting out a deep sigh, positive my job is now on the line. What have I got to lose? “Randall, if you want the truth, I have a situation I’m trying to deal with.”
He tents his fingers over his desk as if he’s been waiting for us to get here. Dammit.
“It’s a long story, and I won’t bore you with the details.” Rufus is back to pacing and whining. I close my eyes. “I inherited... a dog. Areallyhigh-maintenance one. I know this is stupid, but I haven’t been coming in because I’ve been trying to figure out what to do with him.”
Randall’s bushy white eyebrows shoot up like this is the last thing he expected me to say. Which makes two of us.
