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“How do you know her?” she asked to break the awkward silence.
“Sorry?” He finally seemed to realize he was still staring at Angelina’s backside. “We met at a charity fundraiser a few years ago. She’s the coordinator for tonight’s event. Listen, I have to use the restroom. You go ahead. I’ll be right back.”
She frowned and watched as he hurried away. Was he really going to the restroom, or was he chasing after Angelina? Why did she care? It gave Lillian a breather, didn’t it?
Tristan followed Angelina down the hall, his blood pumping in his veins. Who was he fooling by playing hard to get? He still had the hots for her, and she’d made it clear she still wanted him. They had been good in bed together, hadn’t they? And she knew how to please him. What the hell was he waiting for then?
She stopped to talk to a young, handsome medical student, laughing at something he said. Tristan strained to hear but was too far away to make sense of the conversation. He could see the man’s gaze checking out her perfectly proportioned body as she pointed at something down the hall.
Tristan took a step forward. Maybe it was high time he put an end to this foolish charade. Angelina was a beautiful, confident woman, and she was his if he set aside his pride. But would it solve the issues between them? She wanted children and he didn’t. If they married, wouldn’t that eventually cause resentment between them? The truth of the logic didn’t ease the tightness in his chest.
She turned and saw him, raising her brows in surprise before heading in his direction. She stopped when she was directly in front of him, her blue-eyed gaze wide and perceptive. “Did you need something?”
You.He wanted to shout, but he cleared his throat instead. “Just the restroom,” he croaked.
She tipped her head back and laughed, then leaned forward and whispered in his ear, her cool lips grazing his cheek. “The restroom is that way.” She pointed in the direction he’d come from.
Warmth flooded his cheeks. She gave him a jaunty wave and continued down the hallway, her throaty voice drifting back to him. “See you tonight, Tristan.”
He stood there like a fool, watching until she rounded the next corner.
After Tristan disappeared in the same direction as Angelina, Lillian turned to the desk, where a nurse she had not seen before greeted her with a friendly smile. The nurse had a thin face, close-cropped black hair, and was partly hidden by a large vase of yellow tulips.
Lillian peeked around the flowers. “Excuse me. I’d like to request a copy of Hannah Milano’s medical records. I’m her personal representative and here’s my power of attorney.” She handed the nurse the form she kept in her purse.
The nurse scanned the document then Lillian, and she must have passed inspection because she handed her a piece of paper on a clipboard and said in a bored tone, “I’ll need you to complete a HIPAA release form and sign it at the bottom. I’ll need to see your driver’s license, too. Will you want a printed copy or electronic?”
“Can I get them both ways?”
The nurse nodded. Lillian took the clipboard and began filling out the form. She glanced at the flowers and paused in the act of signing the document. She squinted at the signature on the card stuck in the vase, a strange feeling gripping her belly.Frank Milano?It wasn’t her dad’s signature, and when would he have had time to order flowers, anyway? A frisson of fear pricked her nerve endings.
The nurse caught her gaze.
“Beautiful flowers,” Lillian said, injecting a casual note in her voice.
“Aren’t they? A patient’s father sent them this morning.”
“I recognize the name on the card. That’s my friend’s father. I’m surprised he would have had time to send flowers, though. His daughter’s pretty sick.”
The nurse glanced at the card. “Oh, we’ve been giving him regular updates on his daughter’s condition. He sent these as a thank you.”
Why would her dad call looking for updates when he was at Hannah’s bedside most of the time?
Lillian dropped the clipboard in the act of handing it to the nurse. It clattered against the counter and onto the floor, nearly hitting her in the process. She scooped it up, placing it on the counter and flattening her sweaty palms against her legs. She managed to take a breath.
“How long before I can get a copy of her records?”
“Shouldn’t be long, maybe an hour or so. If you leave me your telephone number, I can text you when they’re ready.”
Lillian nodded. “Yes, okay.”
The nurse handed her a piece of paper and a pen, and she took them and scribbled her phone number at the same moment Tristan returned, flashing her his confident smile. Was that a trace of lipstick on his cheek?
“All set?”
Lillian nodded, hoping he wouldn’t notice the increased fragile state of her already fragile nerves.
“I thought we’d go to a deli nearby. It will taste much better than hospital food. Is that okay?”
