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A kindling respect crushed what little was left of his stupid-ass hopes. Which should never have existed in the first place because, really, what was he hoping for? Well, he wanted her, still, and maybe he had lived inside their professional relationship, creating a house of intimacy that he had been shacking up in without being cognizant of his new address.
This was a good thing, he told himself. This refocus he had going on.
“You’re going to need to get a high-risk obstetrician,” he said. “Your age isn’t necessarily a problem, but your AML is going to be a challenge.”
“You’ll be my oncologist still.”
She was speaking absently, like she was developing her plan and he was the top bullet point.
Sorry, C.P., he thought.
“No,” he said. “I’m a researcher, not a clinician.”
That was not entirely true, the lines between the two obviously being blurred given his work in the lab. But there was no way he could give her the treatment she needed and deserved. His objectivity was shot to shit.
Well, and then there was the other reason he couldn’t be hers.
Her physician, that was.
Gus cleared his throat and tried like hell to pull himself back from the abyss. “You need to go to Houston and follow through with whatever Anderson tells you. You and this baby require a team, anintegrated team. Get yourself a nice crash pad down there, and do what you need to.” He waved his hand around. “Forget this shit with Vita.”
He thought about what that mysterious caller had told him. And what had been offered.
What he had accepted when they had called back an hour ago.
“Sell the bitch and let it go,” he said hoarsely. “Take your money and live your life because you may have an heir who’ll need resources at the end of… it all.”
As he rattled on, C.P. Phalen was just staring down at her stomach, and he doubted she heard what he was saying. Probably for the best. His pain had leaked out there at the end.
C.P.’s hearing was on a delay: She was processing so much that it was hard to internalize what Gus was saying to her—except then his words sank in.
Looking at him sharply, she said, “You can consult on my case, though.”
“No, C.P.” He shook his head. “I’m afraid I can’t.”
“But—”
“For one, how would you explain the relationship, how I was involved in your care? I dropped off the national stage like three years ago. Now I’m back and talking to a bunch of experts about your case? Be real.”
“We can work around that—”
“I don’t have admitting privileges anymore, anywhere, either.” He put his hand up. “It’s a hard no, C.P. So stop arguing. You’ve been too rich, for too long, and that makes you think you can have your way just because you want something. You can’t with me. Not on this.”
She opened her mouth. Closed it. As a feeling of buzzy paranoia vibrated through her chest, she said, “I’m still going to see you here at my lab, though. Even if I sell, it’ll take half a year to close a deal. Minimum.”
“Well, that’s the other thing I need to talk to you about.”
There was a long pause, and then he began to run his hands back and forth on the tops of his thighs.
“You’re not leaving the lab,” she said in a rush. “Gus, what the hell? You’renotgoing.”
“I, ah…” His eyes swung in her direction, but avoided a direct lock with her own stare. “I accepted a new job about an hour ago.”
A cold rush hit her head and shot throughout her body. “What? What about Vita? What about—”
“I’m moving on. I’ve done what I can here and I’m—”
“You have a non-compete clause,” she cut in. “In case you don’t remember your contract.”
