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If he did, it hardly made a difference after decades of indifference. If it took literal anthrax for him to reach out, he still wasn’t offering much of a relationship.I don’t have anthrax, I said. It wasn’t even a lie.
“Hardcastle.”
I put my phone away before Everett responded and turned to the man standing too close to me. Oh, the aloof guy from the gala, name started with a G. It would come to me.... “Godric,” I finally greeted him.
He acknowledged me by barely moving his eyebrows, like remembering his name after our single dinner together a week ago was marginally acceptable. “Jake has no taste.”
“To be honest, I didn’t know if I was invited to a rave or an investment meeting.”
“If only.” I couldn’t tell which interested him more from his cool demeanor.
After a solid minute without conversation, Godric still lingered next to me. “How’s your girlfriend?” I asked.
He snorted. “Who? Tiffany?” He snorted again, and then laughed, then sipped his insipid little martini.
After another minute, Godric moved in close enough to lower his voice. “Listen, if you’re looking for a better time—”
“You know? I’m not.” I gave him a thin smile to meanif you stop talking now, we’re straight, but do not try me.
“Your funeral.”
Right. Loneliness couldn’t kill you.
Could it?
Godric strolled away, or as much as he could through the crowd.
I’d made an effort, I really had. And I was normally good at parties. It was just that—
That I grew up in this world, and this was the world I was expected to party my way through my whole life. Hardly felt like a coincidence that Everett contacted me right at this moment.
This was deliberatelynotthe life I’d chosen.
The next time I caught Jake, I thanked him and headed out. Maybe you could die from loneliness, but there were some fates worse than death.
For example, facing Cassie again after the way I’d chewed her out.
Friday morning, I found myself hesitating at the door to Infectious Disease. It had been a day since Davis had been discharged, and my responsibilities had returned to everywhere else in the hospital. He wasn’t even in ID today.
I never, ever wanted to face Davis again—but his guideline edits were still sitting on my desk.
On the other hand, I also couldn’t bear the thought of letting him down again by ditching the task force.
Realistically, an email was the neutral way to resolve this, not making him uncomfortable, tossing the ball into his court to let him do what he wanted. After what I’d done, that still felt intrusive. I wasn’t sure walking by his office was any less so, but I did want to see his face while I talked to him. Not because I liked looking at his face—I definitely did, although even the idea made me sad now—but because I needed to gauge his response to me.
I tried to make my stroll over to Urban Health look purposeful. Maybe I could take the pressure off by making it seem like I had other business there, and if Davis was willing to talk (and hear my fifteenth apology), then we could.
But when I reached Urban Health, Davis’s door was closed. “Is Mr. Hardcastle in?” I asked the division secretary.
He glanced at the closed door. “Oh, no, he’s out today. Can I give him a message?”
“No.”
“You’re on the task force, right?”
I nodded.
“I’m supposed to tell you there’s a meeting with the State Health Department next week on the task force’s guidelines.”
