Page 22 of Broken Dreams

Far, far away in another state. Where no one could drop in at a moment’s notice to spy on her or make her feel stupid and inept.

She jumped in the shower, intent on rinsing thoughts of her family from her mind. Unbelievable that Nick had actually asked her out on a real date. As she massaged shampoo through her hair, she couldn't prevent the thrill of anticipation. The same, rational part of her brain wondered if this was just another of his push me, pull me moves. One minute he kissed her, the next he'd shoved her away. Now he'd asked her out. Because he knew she planned to move to Florida? Maybe Nick assumed she wouldn't ask for anything more than what he could give.

The thought made her pause. Was that what this was about. Was he sick of sitting around his motel room? Maybe this was nothing more as a way for him to get away for a while. He’d asked her because he knew her. And why did that idea bother her? It wasn't like they could have a serious relationship. She was leaving, and he probably would too. He'd mentioned his boss in Virginia. She felt certain Nick would end up back there.

Her feelings about him were a tangled mess. Why she was letting herself be distracted by a guy she wouldn't see again, she had no idea.

Then again, maybe there was more to her confused emotions. Most of the guys she'd met had only seen her as the friendly girl next door. Aaron's cute little sister. Adam's cute little sister. Or Alec’s cute little sister. Or...

Not Nick. When he looked at her through those intense gray-green eyes of his, she didn't feel like the wholesome girl next door at all. Oddly he seemed to consider her an attractive woman. Or was that just wishful thinking? After all, at their first meeting, he'd assumed she was much younger than she actually was.

After stepping out of the shower she dried off then hurried into her room. She contemplated the items in her closet. It had been so long since she'd been out on a date, she didn't have dressy clothes to wear.

There was one outfit that she hadn’t worn in over a year. A flowered blue green skirt, along with the spaghetti strapped camisole top. She dressed then regarded herself critically in the mirror. Her skirt flared when she gave a quick spin, showing off her tanned legs, one of her best features, if she did say so herself. At least tonight, she wouldn't look like a sixteen-year-old.

She was still fussing with her hair and makeup when she heard the doorbell ring. She smoothed a hand over her skirt, then headed downstairs. Nick stood straight and tall on the other side of the screen door. His eyes flared with interest and he smiled with appreciation when he saw her. “Hello Amber. You look lovely.”

“Thank you.” She shouldn’t have sounded so breathless. He politely opened the door, but she didn’t invite him in. “I'm ready if you are. My parents aren't home, or I’d invite you in to say hello. They’re at Andrea’s house.” She stepped out onto the wide wrap around porch, brushing past him.

“You smell great, too. “He lightly clasped her arm then turned to maneuver the porch steps with his cane and his awkward gait. “We have reservations for seven-thirty. I hope you're hungry.”

Normally she would be, but her nerves had taken control of her stomach. She nodded to the black car parked outside the house. “I'm impressed you rented a car just for this.”

“You're worth it.” His simple statement shot through her heart like an arrow, stealing her breath. “And, in case you're wondering, I haven't taken any meds for over four hours. I'm fine to drive.”

She frowned, not liking the thought of him being in pain. “Are you sure that's a good idea? I mean about the pain meds, that is. I can drive. Or we can call a rideshare.”

“I'm backing off on my meds anyway, remember?” His tone was light, but his arched brow and flint expression in his eyes warned her to leave it alone.

She settled in the front seat and waited for him to go around to join her. When he’d stashed his cane in the back and settled in behind the wheel, she asked, “Did you happen to hear anything more about Mr. Fischer?” She almost hated to ask, concerned her patient was going to end up passing away, just like Mr. Goetz had. “I've been curious about how he's doing.”

Nick pulled away from the curb, then reached over the gear shift in the center console to cover her hand with his. “I called the hospital for a status report just before I left. He’s doing fine. The interventional radiology procedure has taken care of his symptoms. He’s still in intensive care and has been deemed to be in critical but stable condition.”

“I'm so glad.” She sighed in relief.

“Me, too.”

Fifteen minutes later, Nick pulled up to the restaurant. At first she was surprised he would use the valet parking, then remembered his cane. She was so accustomed to seeing him walk with it now, she didn't even notice it.

Their table was tucked in a secluded corner with a breathtaking view of Lake Michigan. The lake was east of Milwaukee, so there were no beautiful sunsets, but the rippling blue water was soothing all the same. The ambiance of the restaurant was warm and inviting. Fancier than she’d expected, too, making her glad she’d worn a dress.

“How about some antipasti for starters?” Nick asked, scanning the menu.

“Sounds great.” She already knew exactly what she wanted from the menu—reading the description of the grilled swordfish made her mouth water.

A discreet waiter took their order. Classical music played in the background. Nick reached across the table to take her hand in his, pinning her with an intense gaze. “I need to ask you a question.”

Her mouth went dry and she nervously licked her lips. Was he going to ask her to not move to Florida, to stay so they could see each other again? She managed to pull herself together. “Yes? What is it?”

His lean fingers lightly stroked her hand. She shivered. But then he pulled away, to reach for his water glass. “I'm curious about what action you're planning to take against Dr. Roland.”

She blinked. “What?”

“I heard the way he spoke to you, Amber.” He frowned darkly from across the table. “Surely, you're not going to let that slide without taking some sort of formal action against him, are you? Every VA hospital has strict rules about professional conduct.”

She couldn't believe that he'd only asked her out to grill her about Roland. She struggled to remain calm. “I'd rather not think about him, if you don't mind.”

Her attempt to change the subject didn't work. He leaned earnestly over the table toward her. “I can help, I overheard the whole thing.”

---