Chapter 4

CHAPTER

FOUR

Oliver

This has been the longest week of my life. It’s finally Friday at five, and all I want to do is go home, wash off this week, kick back with a cold beer, and relax. Instead, I’m just now sitting down at my desk to chart because it’s been that kind of week. Yesterday I was in surgery all morning, which also ran over and put my day behind. I hate it when I get behind… for me and for my staff.

Blowing out a heavy breath, I pull up the patient file I just finished with to chart the visit, and then move on down the list from the day. I need to read over each chart note to make sure they are complete before submitting them so I can go home. Sure, I can do this from home, but I don’t want to. I want to leave this week and work behind until Monday morning.

I’m fully engrossed in what needs to be done so I can get the hell out of here when a soft knock sounds at my door. Looking up, I find Kathy standing there.

“Just checking in before I head home. Do you need anything from me?”

“No. Have a good weekend,” I grumble, even though I don’t mean to. I’m not a complete asshole. Kathy is invaluable to me and this office. Of course, I want her to have a nice weekend. Just because I grumble the sentiment doesn’t mean it’s not true.

“You too, Dr. Thompson. Oh…” She steps into my office and places a small clear container with a red top that’s noticeably empty on top of my desk. I glare at it.

“What’s that?” I know damn well what it is. What I don’t know is why she’s giving it to me.

“That’s Blakely’s container. You have a meeting with her on Monday, a lunch meeting. I thought she’d want it back.”

I grunt in response.

Another fucking meeting. A lunch meeting at that. Hilary never did any of that. I’m going to have to remind Ms. Kincaid that I don’t want to be a part of the gala. I couldn’t care less about what decisions she’s made. I won’t be there to see them.

“Have a great weekend,” Kathy sings, walking out of my office. She’s not the least bit upset or intimidated by my reaction. Like I said, I’m not a complete asshole to work for. I like things a certain way, and having lunch with Blakely Kincaid is not on the list.

The marketing beauty is everywhere. I hear her name in the halls, in the cafeteria, in my office. Hell, she’s even in my head. Suddenly, it's as if she’s a part of my life.

She’s not. I don’t do relationships. Been there, done that, and I have the scars to prove it. They might just be emotional scars, but they’re still there all the same.

Shaking out of my thoughts, I get back to work. An hour later, I’m shutting down my laptop and grabbing my coat to head home. The empty container with the red top glares at me from the corner of my desk. I’m not sure an object has ever annoyed me. I guess there’s a first time for everything. Hitting the switch, I turn off the light, lock my door, and head out to my car.

Stepping outside, the cold greets me. My eyes scan the parking lot, looking for—well, I refuse to voice even in my own head who I’m looking for. I don’t see her car, and I heave a sigh of relief. Hitting the key fob, I remotely start my 4Runner as I make my way through the lot.

Once I’m behind the wheel, my eyes take another scan of the lot, just to be certain she’s not broken down again, or anyone, for that matter. Satisfied, I put my SUV in Drive and head home, ready to put this week behind me.

An hour later, I’m home, showered, and standing in the kitchen with an ice-cold beer, staring at the stack of takeout menus, trying to decide what to order for dinner. When my cell phone rings, I check the caller before answering. Thankfully, it’s not work. It’s my best friend, Brad.

“Hey, man,” I greet him.

“You sound defeated. Rough day?”

I huff out a laugh. “Rough week. What are you up to?”

“Marisa and Abe are at her mom's, working on his costume for the Christmas pageant for school.”

“Damn, preschool is brutal,” I mumble.

“Nah, Abe’s pumped about it. He gets to be a gumdrop.”

“Don’t they all have to look the same?” I wonder, thinking about a bunch of little four- and five-year-olds running around as gumdrops. Abe’s a cute kid, and it brings a small smile to my face.

“They do. Marisa volunteered to make all the gumdrops, with her mom’s help, of course, and Abe wanted to be there to help too.”

“So, you’re home alone?”

“Nah, I’ve got Carrie,” he says of his little girl, who turned one over the summer.

“Well, have the two of you had dinner? I was just getting ready to order something.”

“That’s why I’m calling. I was going to see if you wanted to come over and watch last night’s game. I didn’t get to watch it. My boys had practice,” he says of his varsity basketball team he coaches.

“Wait, don’t you usually have games on Friday nights?”

“Yeah, but we have a bye this week.”

“Well, I’d love to, but I’ve already had half of this beer.” I could drive on a half, but I don’t drink and drive ever. It’s my own personal rule, no matter that the law says, legally, I’d be fine. “You’re welcome to come over. I haven’t ordered yet.”

“Pizza,” he says in answer. “Meat lovers. We’ll be there in twenty.”

“What about Carrie?”

“She can eat some of mine. You got scissors, right? Marisa cuts up her food with scissors, and it’s so much easier. My wife is a genius.”

I laugh. Brad is one of the lucky ones. He found a woman who loves him and only him. He has two kids, the wife, and even though he doesn’t have a white picket fence around his place, he should. They’re that picture perfect.

“I’m on it.”

“See you soon.”

The call ends, and I sift through the takeout menus until I find the one for Pizza Town and place the order. I add on an order of breadsticks, thinking maybe that might work better for Carrie.

I eye my house, and it’s tidy enough. That’s not hard to do when you live on your own. I finish off my beer, but instead of grabbing another, I pull out a bottle of water from the fridge and settle on the couch, waiting for my company and my dinner to arrive.

“Um, um, um,” Carrie says after each bite of her breadstick that she’s messily dipping into pizza sauce.

“Is that good?” I ask her.

“Um!” she cheers, which has Brad and me both laughing.

“You’re good with kids. You need a couple,” Brad tells me.

“Correction. I’m good with your kids, and you know that ship has long since set sail, my friend.”

“Come on, Oliver, you can’t let her take your life from you.”

“She didn’t. I’m in a career that I love. I have a best friend who has two adorable kids I can play with and spoil and then send home. I’m living the dream,” I tell him, popping the final bite of my slice of pizza into my mouth.

“Marisa has some single friends.”

“Nope.” I shake my head. “Not going there, man.”

“You know my wife is tenacious, right?” He grins.

“Yeah, but she’s not my wife, so I can freeze her out until she gives up.”

He groans. “You know I’ll get her whining from that.”

I shrug. “Then tell her to let it be. My life is good, Brad. I’m not unhappy.”

“Riiiight,” he says with a laugh, dragging out the word. “You’re grumpy as f—fudge and you know it. You have this anger inside you that you can’t let go of. It’s only going to get worse.”

“Carrie, tell your daddy he’s wrong,” I say to the adorable little girl. She grins and smacks her hands on the tray of the portable high chair her dad brought with them.

“Just because I’m not interested in dating, or happily ever after, doesn’t mean I’m grumpy. Do I like things a certain way? Yes, I do. There is nothing wrong with that. Lives are literally in my hands every day.”

“I mean, you’re an orthopedic physician, not a brain surgeon,” he jokes. “Man, I just know what you’re missing out on, and I hate that for you. I want you to have this.” He nods toward his daughter.

I understand what he’s saying, and there was a time in my life, a very specific time, just as I was mere months from wrapping up my residency, when his life was exactly what I saw for myself. Unfortunately, we don’t always get what we want, and the heartache that comes with the chance just isn’t worth it to me.

“Carrie, your daddy thinks he’s a comedian.” I make a funny face, and her giggles fill the room. “You have the perfect family, Brad. That’s just not in the cards for me. Not anymore.” There must be something in my tone that tells him I’m at the end of my rope talking about this because he lets it drop.

Brad and I met in college. We were roommates our freshman year, and we’ve been inseparable ever since. He was there for me when my life got turned upside down. Sure, he knows why I won’t ever have a family of my own. He means well, but it’s just not going to happen for me.

After college, Brad moved to Willow River for a teaching position. He’s originally from Atlanta, so he’s still close enough he can visit his family within an hour’s drive. He and Marisa are both teachers. They actually went to high school together but didn’t start dating until we were in college. I’m not gonna lie. I am envious of what they have. They’re living the life that I thought I was going to live until my world was tipped upside down.

“How’s the team?” I ask, making sure the subject is officially dropped.

“Good. We’re undefeated so far this season. I have a great group of kids. Five seniors who will be leaving after this season, but there are some sophomores that are doing well on the junior varsity team. I think we’ll be just fine.”

“You still have some juniors that are sticking around for next year too, right?”

“Yeah, one of them is damn good too. Kincaid boy. His dad runs the mechanic shop here in town.”

Kin-fucking-caid.

“That’s great, man,” I finally say. Unless there are two of the Kincaid brothers who own that shop, Brad’s star junior is none other than Blakely Kincaid’s brother. This woman… she’s everywhere in my life all of a sudden. It seems like, no matter what I do, she’s there. I don’t know if it’s just bad luck or because I now know that I have to work with her, and she’s infiltrated my world. Am I more aware? Whatever it is, I can’t seem to escape her. She’s everywhere.

“Yeah, great family. There are a shit ton of them.” He laughs.

I nod. “Can’t go anywhere in this town without running into a Kincaid.” I’m going for casual, but even I can hear the annoyance in my tone, something Brad completely ignores. He is my best friend, after all. He’s used to my moods by now.

“Deacon Setty too. The lawyer in town. Well, he’s not a Kincaid, but his wife was, or is, or she’s related to them somehow. I’m not sure,” Brad rambles on.

It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him that I’ve been assigned to work with Blakely on the Christmas gala, but I hold back. Why, I’m not sure. Maybe because she’s everywhere and I seem to be thinking about her a lot lately. I know Brad will be able to sense that and think too much into it. It’s better if I keep this, my working with her, to myself for now.

“I should get going.” Brad pulls Carrie from her high chair after wiping her face and hands, which she hated.

“Come to Uncle Oliver.” I hold my hands out, and she dives into them. I snuggle her close as she rests her cheek on my chest. As an only child, I’ll never be an uncle, except for my best friend’s kids, and I’ve accepted that. Sure, if I were to get married, I would have been an uncle to my wife’s siblings’ kids, but that ship has long since sailed.

“Thanks for coming to see me,” I tell Carrie, rubbing my palm up and down her back.

“You definitely need one,” Brad says, nodding to his daughter.

“I have two. Yours.” I grin. I know what he’s doing, but no amount of telling me or lectures are going to change my mind. That day, the one I refuse to talk about, changed me. It changed my life, and I’ve accepted that.

“One day, man.” Brad shakes his head as he holds his hands out for his daughter.

“No.” I wrap my arms around Carrie to keep her from reaching for her dad and twirl us around. Her giggles fill the room, and damn if the sound doesn’t do wonders to cheer my ass up. I needed this tonight.

“Thanks for having dinner with me,” I say, kissing Carrie’s cheek and holding her so that Brad can get her coat on her.

“Thanks for having us and for dinner.”

“I needed it,” I confess.

“I can tell there’s been something on your mind, but I don’t want to pry. You know where I am.”

Yeah, I’m not telling him that it’s not something but someone—a very gorgeous someone who keeps popping up in my life—that’s on my mind. “Appreciate it,” I say, handing him his daughter.

I walk them to the door and wave before heading back inside. The desire for a beer has left, and I’m just exhausted. I take my time wandering through the house and turning off the lights before going to bed.

I’m so ready for a new day.