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John paused and then headed for a circular table in the middle of the restaurant.
They followed.
“Man, you’re ruthless,” she whispered.
“Don’t let the grandfather act fool you,” he replied. “He and a few others think they’re part of some kind of secret coalition to get me expelled from the university.”
“Why? Isn’t having you at Hopkins a bonus? Your name alone can pull in so much funding for the university and hospital.”
“They want to look like they have power. That they can make or break me.”
“But you don’t give a damn—”
“And less than a fuck.”
He pulled out her chair.
Once she took her seat, he sat beside her, grabbed the underside of her chair, and pulled her closer. The table housed six people: her and Lucas, John Nelson, two more men, and one more woman.
“This is your wife?” one of the men asked, one with salt-and-pepper hair, a clean-shaven face, an angular nose, a soft chin, and cinnamon-brown eyes.
Based on the timbre of his voice, that one wasn’t Adam. Therefore, Adam had to be the one with the kind, light-blue eyes and dark-brown hair wearing the green shirt that hung a little large on his shoulders.
Lucas draped an arm across the back of her chair. “Yes, this is my wife. Raina,” he went around the table, “Bill Price, Adam Morris, and Adam’s wife, Cheryl. Everyone, this is my ‘Rai’ of sunshine.”
John chuckled. “And John Nelson.”
Lucas didn’t so much as glance the man’s way, and Raina made a mental note to ask him more about the “feud” later.
Cheryl flattened her palm against her chest. “‘Rai’ of sunshine? How cute! It’s lovely to meet you, Raina.”
“It’s a good thing I didn’t invite Emmaline, then,” John chimed in again, still chuckling. “That would have been awkward.”
Raina turned to him. “Who’s Emmaline?”
Adam rolled his eyes.
Bill took a sip from his glass of water.
John continued. “Emmaline is Lucas’ ex. She works in the College of Medicine with us. Cardiothoracic surgery. Brilliant surgeon.”
This time, when Lucas speared John with his gaze, she saw the proverbial blade go through John’s neck.
Bill Price cleared his throat. “No more bottles of wine for the table.”
John waved away the comment. “Price, look at her. You think Saraci’s worried about Emmaline when he’s found himself a twenty-something-year-old chocolate goddess?”
Lucas unwrapped his utensils.
She kept one eye on his knives. “I’m thirty, actually,” she said.
Cheryl’s eyes opened wide. “I wouldn’t put you a day over twenty-one. Amazing. What do you do, Raina? I’m a dermatologist, by the way, so please don’t get offended if I keep staring at you. I’m marveling at your skin.”
“She does a lot of things,” Lucas said. “She owns several businesses and heads several organizations in North Carolina, including a research institute. Their focus is on the intersection of epigenetics and psychosocial adversity, and they also have a department that focuses solely on eating disorders.”
A kiss would have been tamer.
What made it worse was that he’d had a smile on his face the entire time he’d shared that miniature bio.
