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Did she love him? Not in the way Lucas meant. Not in the way she’d loved him. She’d never let herself love that way again. She knew how much that kind of love hurt.
“I don’t think my feelings toward Richard are any of your business.”
“You don’t.” He leaned back against the booth seat and studied her. “You’re not in love with him.”
At first she thought he sounded smug with his claim, then she realized he was saying the words as much for himself as he was to her. Which had her wondering why. Why would Lucas care if she was in love with Richard? He hadn’t come to Children’s because of any lingering feelings for her. He’d come because he’d been given a medical director position that was his dream job.
“What do your parents think of him?”
“They like him.” Mostly. Part of her knew her parents were just glad she was out and dating, that she was rebuilding a life for herself. Plus, Richard was a pharmacist, a good man with a steady income, and he came from a similar background to Emily. They liked that about him. They liked that he wasn’t Lucas. They’d die if they knew she was out with him, that he’d come to work at Children’s. Her mother would be trying to get her to change jobs immediately. Her father would, dear Lord, her father would likely come after Lucas if he knew she was within ten feet of the man who’d broken his little girl’s heart.
“How about you?” she asked, wanting the conversation to turn away from her and Richard, to turn away from her parents and how they, probably rightly so, felt about Lucas. “Anyone special in your life?”
He shrugged. “I date from time to time but am currently not seeing anyone.”
“Maybe you’ll meet someone at Children’s and sweep her off her feet and live happily ever after.”
Why did the thought of him meeting someone and her having to watch that relationship blossom make her physically ill?
“I’m not looking to meet anyone, Emily. I’m at Children’s because of the career and research opportunities being there provide me. Nothing more.”
Nothing more. As in, she shouldn’t get any ideas he was there because of her. Ha. As if. She knew better than that. He’d expressed himself loud and clear on that one over five years ago. “What type of research opportunities?”
His eyes lighting, he told her about a new procedure he and a colleague had been developing to reduce intracranial pressure post head trauma. His passion for what he was doing, what he hoped to achieve, impressed Emily. Lucas loved what he did and wanted to make a difference in his patients’ lives. Darn him. She didn’t want to like anything about him, but she admired his passion.
“You couldn’t do that at where you were before?”
He shook his head. “Dr. Collins is still the medical director and shot me down every time I wanted to use the procedure.”
Dr. Collins. A grumpy old man who was so antiquated he must have come with the building. No wonder a progressive neurosurgeon like Lucas had sought other career opportunities.
“At Children’s you get to make the final call of whether or not the procedure takes place?”
“I’m just waiting for the right patient.”
“What’s the advantage over traditional procedures to decrease ICP?”
“It’s less invasive and less risk of post-surgical complications.” He explained the procedure and continued to do so after their meal arrived, pausing only to brag about how good the duck was.
Surprisingly, Emily found herself enjoying listening to Lucas.
“I didn’t know you were so interested in research.”
He shrugged. “It’s always been a dream.”
“I never knew that.”
“We didn’t talk about my school and work much.”
“We didn’t talk much about anything,” she reminded, more sarcasm than she’d meant coming out in her tone.
“That’s not how I remember things. At least, it wasn’t that way in the beginning. We’d spend hours just talking.”
La. La. La. La. She fought to keep memories from rushing in
to her head. Memories of lying in Lucas’s arms, naked, sated, and talking about anything and everything. Much easier to keep him at a distance if she only remembered the endless tears and screaming matches they’d battled through.
Seeming to realize that she was throwing up walls, he forked a piece of his duck, then held out the loaded utensil. “Here. Taste.”
