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She laughed and climbed to her feet as well, tossing those wild errant locks back over her shoulder. “I think ‘doctor’ and ‘sensible schedule’ are incompatible terms, don’t you? Are you going to write me up?”
“Do I need to?”
“I hope not, but that’s your prerogative. You can even fire me, if you want. I can always practice somewhere else.”
And now he could bring up an earlier thought. “You’re already thinking of doing just that, though, aren’t you? Leaving?”
There was a long pause. “I hope it won’t come to that. My—ex—works for the EMT company that services this area. If he makes things difficult, I might choose to move.”
He took a step closer, gratified when she stood her ground this time. “How can I help? The hospital, that is.”
“You can’t. It’s something I have to work through myself. I’ll either be able to face him and move on, or I won’t. Our parting was not the most amicable in the world.”
That made him frown. “Let me know if he causes trouble.”
“I think he’s caused all the trouble he can. The sooner the divorce goes through, the better.” Fingers fiddled with a small gold ball that clung to the delicate lobe of her right ear. Something contracted in his chest.
She allowed her hand to drop back to her side, standing straight and tall. “I’m sure the last thing you want to hear today is someone moaning about their impending divorce.”
He glanced back at the safe.
Before he could even give voice to the question, she nodded. “Yes. He gave it to me. And all of those other items as well.”
“Ah, understandable. I still think it should be appraised. I can have that done if you’d like.”
“It’s up to you. I won’t want the necklace back no matter what its value.”
He glanced at her hand. No rings anymore, but the indentation was still there. “I’m sorry. About your breakup.”
“Thank you.” She shoved her hands in the pockets of her pants. “Now, if there’s nothing else...”
“No. Nothing. Just keep an eye on those hours, okay?”
“I will. Thanks for bringing it to my attention.”
Walking over to the door, he held it open and waited as she walked through it. “Oh, and, Dr. Santini.”
“Call me Addy.”
He nodded. “Addy, then. Thank you for the donations. The hospital appreciates them.”
How was that for impersonal? Maybe he’d sounded canned and overly formal, but he didn’t like the way he was suddenly noticing little things about her.
“I’m glad someone will be able to use them.”
Because she wouldn’t. He shut the door and went back around his desk. Giving his damaged hand one last glance, he sat in his chair and tried to lose himself in his work. But Addy’s face—and that damned gold earring—kept circling through his thoughts. He hoped she came through her crisis unscathed. And that it wouldn’t cost her something a lot more valuable than a set of pearls.
* * *
Two days later a piece of mail caught her attention. It was from the hospital. Her breath stalled in her chest. She’d done her best to cut back on her hours, but knew she’d still stayed on the floor longer than she should have.
Sliding her finger under the tab, she was surprised when a single sheet of paper fell out—a handwritten note containing only seven words:
Two thousand dollars appraised—are you sure?
The signature was Garret Stapleton’s. A shiver went over her as she sat and stared at his handwriting for a few seconds. Bold strokes crossed those Ts. She touched a finger to one of them, then gritted her teeth.
She knew exactly what he was referring to. The necklace. She wasn’t shocked by the price tag. What she was surprised at was that he’d written to her personally. And at the funny twist to her stomach when she’d opened the envelope and realized who it was from.
But at least he hadn’t called her back into his office to break the news to her. Their last meeting had made her squirm. Maybe because she’d called attention to his hand, when she hadn’t meant to. She’d gone all defensive, trying to deflect his attention to something other than her.
He’d been right to chew her out. But he hadn’t needed to. She did know her limits. And she loved her job too much to risk driving while exhausted. Which was why she’d been known to leave her car in the parking lot and take a taxi.
Did he call every single doctor who worked overtime into his office? She didn’t think so. Which meant he had seen some kind of warning sign.
She’d heard that the fiery crash that damaged his hand had almost cost his life as well. That thought made her heart ache. He’d been one of the best neurosurgeons in the country. And it had all been snatched away in a split second. He’d then gone from New York City to the shores of South Beach.
Why so far away?
Maybe, like her, he’d felt he needed a change of scenery. A new start. Maybe she needed to do the same—like go from South Beach to New York.
Except she was a Florida girl. Born to a family of Italian immigrants, but a true surfer girl at heart. With her dark hair, she didn’t exactly look the part, but she didn’t care. Those waves had coaxed her back to the water time and time again.
In fact, she’d met Leo Santini during a surfing contest five years earlier, when she’d been undergoing another crisis—with her mom, this time—and had fallen in love. Looking back, she realized their quick romance had been a desperate attempt on her part to claw her way out of a dark hole, but the effort had backfired. As her mom’s condition had continued to deteriorate, their marriage had begun to change gears too. Their surfing trips had dwindled to nothing over the space of a year. She still caught an occasional wave, but Leo had turned in his board for the party scene, something she had no interest in at all. She should have seen the breakup coming. Talk about warning signs. She’d missed them all.
But no more.
Maybe she needed to take her board and head to the beach on Wednesday, her next day off. Then her boss wouldn’t be able to say a word about her working too many hours. And maybe it would clear her head and help her find her equilibrium again. Just the thought made her pulse pick up its pace. How long had it been since she’d paddled through the surf, looking for that one great wave?
Too long. That was what she’d do.
Taking a pen, she sat down and crafted her reply to Garret. And she could do it in fewer words than he had: “Very sure.” Rather than mail it, she would drop it on his desk. In person. Probably not a good idea, but it was the best way she knew to make the break from Leo definitive, not that it wasn’t already.
Shoving the note back into its envelope, she hurried to get ready for the day. Then tonight she would drag her surfboard out of the spare bedroom and check the weather in hopes that conditions—in more ways than one—were perfect.
