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If this wasn’t the most warped twist of fate…
She considered the string of events that had led her to where she now found herself, sitting at a table enjoying a relaxed, cozy lunch with her former high school nemesis. London couldn’t help but think about how easily things could have gone in a different direction.
What if she had done a better job avoiding Drew at their class reunion? Or, what if either of them had skipped the reunion altogether? There was no way she would’ve found herself in Drew’s bed if their first encounter had been that Monday morning meeting where Trident was introduced to the hospital staff.
Now her most pressing question—one she would eventually have to face, no matter how much she wanted to put it off—was what was she going to do about this when his work at County was done?
Wait. What in the hell was she thinking? This situation with Drew wasnother most pressing issue. She was on the brink of making a decision that could potentially affect her entire career: remaining at Travis County Hospital once her residency was done, or accepting that fellowship in Chicago and working with her idol. Or maybe following through on one of the other half-dozen fellowships she had been offered.
Thatwas a more pressing issue.
Impressing upon her baby sister the dangers of sending nude photos of herself to boys she wanted to date was a more pressing issue.
Getting a handle on her hypertension so that she didn’t stroke out in the middle of a surgery was a more pressing issue.
When she thought about it, the answer to the Drew Sullivan question should be the easiest out of everything she was currently juggling. He’d already laid it out. A quick flight up to New York for her, or down to Texas for him. Even quicker trips if she landed in Chicago. She could spend her weekends being thoroughly fucked against the wall of his shower while looking out at Central Park. What was tough aboutthatdecision?
A server came to their table to remove the remnants of their lunch.
“Can I get you anything else?” the woman asked.
London shook her head. “I think I should take a break from the wine for now.”
“That’s a blasphemous thing to say at a winery, but I understand,” the server said with a smile. “But maybe you can try some of the grapes. They’re best when you pick them from the vine.”
“That sounds like a plan,” Drew said, pushing back his chair. He held a hand out to London. “Are you ready for your stroll through the vineyard, Dr. Kelley?”
She placed her hand in his. “Lead the way, Mr. Sullivan.”
They remained hand in hand as they traveled down the covered walkway that led to the vineyard. Another woman dressed in a maroon polo shirt with the winery’s logo embroidered onto the breast pocket greeted them as they approached the entrance to the fields. She held up a sign with a QR code and instructed them to scan it on their phones in order to download a guide that would explain each type of grape and which wines they were used to produce.
As she and Drew started down the row of Petit Verdot grapes, London tipped her face skyward, relishing the feel of the sun on her skin.
Drew stopped walking.
“What’s wrong?” London asked at the sight of his curious expression.
“You look like a painting,” he said. There was a hint of awe in his voice, layered with a trace of tenderness that set off another round of those tingles low in her belly.
London closed her eyes and tilted her head back again. “Avid Wine Drinker in a Vineyard,” she said with a laugh.
“You think I’m joking?”
When she looked back at Drew, he held his phone out to her, showing her the photo he’d snapped. London’s mouth opened as she stared at the screen. Surrounded by the green leaves that had not been affected by the mild Texas winter, and with the sun’s rays bronzing her skin, it did indeed make for a stunning image.
“Would it weird you out if I got this printed in a poster size?” Drew asked.
“Yes,” London answered.
He huffed out an amused grunt as he slipped his phone in his pocket. “I may still do it. How would you ever find out?”
“I don’t know,” she said, recapturing his hand and continuing their stroll. “Maybe Iwillvisit that fancy New York apartment of yours one day.”
She’d said it teasingly, but immediately sensed a change in the air. There was an undercurrent of seriousness to Drew’s tone as he said, “My door will be open for you, London. Just tell me when you’re ready to walk through it.”
She fought the urge to answer with a wiseass response, recognizing that the instinct had no place here. He’d issued a serious invitation, and it deserved equally serious deliberation.
“The thought of doing that doesn’t unnerve me as much as it did just a couple of weeks ago,” she answered honestly.
