Page 33 of Auctioned to the Billionaire Surgeon

I looked at her. She was beautiful in a girl next door kind of way, with a nice body, long, shiny hair, and big, luminous eyes. She also had that way of holding herself that signaled money. Old money.

I swallowed hard and tried not to be upset as I returned her smile the best I could. “Did you have an appointment?”

She laughed. “Oh, no. I’m his girlfriend. I’m just here to surprise him. I brought him lunch,” she said, holding up a basket presumably full of food.

His girlfriend. My mouth had gone dry, and I was having trouble thinking straight. And my heart hurt like it had taken a direct hit. Just a week or so ago he’d cornered me at Sugar and begged me to have a monogamous physical relationship with him. He’d said Carmen and anyone from the hospital never had to know. He knew I didn’t have a boyfriend. He’d said he didn’t have a girlfriend. So, it wouldn’t hurt anyone.

I’d actually been considering it. That’s how attracted to him I was.

He’d lied to me. I don’t know why I was so surprised. It always happened with men. Not that I had that much experience. But the two I’d liked so far in my life had been total liars. Add my disappearing dad into that equation and you were leftwith one screwed up woman.

“Let me call back to see if he’s available,” I said.

“Thank you. And what was your name?”

“Jelly,” I said, picking up the phone and getting ready to press the intercom button for his office.

“Oh, he’s talked about you!” She sounded like I was a celebrity or something.

“Really?” A cautious smile came to my lips. “What did he say?”

“Not much. Just talked about how funny you are and how good with the patients.”

My smile tightened, and I nodded. I pressed the button. “Dr. Lanetti?”

“Yes, Jelly, what is it? I told you just to come back…”

“Your girlfriend is here, sir.” I crashed the phone back into its cradle with unnecessary force. His girlfriend jumped at the loud sound.

“You can have a seat over there. I’m sure he’ll be right out,” I said, using my best receptionist voice.

“Thanks so much, Jelly,” she beamed at me and then walked over and sat in one of the chairs. I watched her, noting her perfectly appropriate sheath dress, hose, and taupe pumps. She had a matching purse. She already looked like a doctor’s wife.

I felt awful. There was a sick feeling in my stomach, and I felt hot all over. I could feel a flush crawling up my skin, from my chest to my face. I was jealous. I was ashamed. I was embarrassed. And I didn’t want to be feeling any of these things.

And the worst thing? I felt stupid. After Evan left me for the woman in the military, I swore to myself that I’d never let a guy make me feel stupid again.

So why was I letting Paolo make me feel stupid? We weren’t together. All he’d done is flirt his ass off with me constantly since we’d met, but hey, that’s on him.

I tried not to look up as he came out, but I was too curious. I glanced up as I heard the door open. He looked my way, and, forjust a second, I saw a flash of something—maybe it was regret—cross his face. Then it was gone. He turned his head towards the pretty woman waiting on him.

“Lyla, hey. To what do I owe this honor?”

“Don’t be silly,” she said, stepping forward and accepting the kiss he dropped on her lips. “I just wanted to see you, and I thought it would be fun to have a picnic in your office. I know you’re always so busy.”

“That’s so nice.” He wrapped his arm around her waist, and the two of them started back through the door. As he passed my desk, he glanced over. “Jelly, hold all my calls and appointments, please.”

I nodded, not trusting myself to say anything.

I could hear them talking as they walked down the hall. “You didn’t tell me Jelly was gorgeous,” the woman said.

“Darling, she has nothing on you.”

God. That made me feel about like Evan fucking me behind the bleachers where no one would see me with him and then taking someone else to prom. I squeezed my eyes shut, holding back the tears that were gathering there. I would not let this man make me cry. I wouldn’t.

I took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. What would I cry over, anyway? That he’d told his appropriategirlfriendthat she was prettier than the skeezy hostess at the strip club? That should not shock me that he’d be so casually cruel. It’s not like we had a super sweet relationship.

“Honey, are you feeling alright?”