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“You could say that, yes,” he says, giving me a small smile.
“Is he a nice guy?” I ask, wanting to know what other people think of him.
“One of the best men I have the pleasure of knowing,” he says without hesitation, smiling widely,
“Does he date a lot of women?” The minute the question falls from my lips, I regret it. But Eddie is handsome. After this morning, I am also acutely aware that he is genuinely a nice guy, one who is cooking me dinner tonight after a long day at work. He said he wants to be exclusive, but sometimes men say all the right things, then do the opposite.
“No, hardly ever. I have never known him to have a long-term girlfriend. Maybe a few dates here and there, but nothing too serious.” I think about it for a moment, then he continues. “He would do anything for anyone. Very generous with both his time and money.” I can’t help thinking I am missing something.
“He is a good guy, Miss Taylor. You have nothing to worry about,” Tony reiterates as the car pulls up to the hospital. I look out the window at the massive building and steel myself for the day.
“Thanks, Tony,” I say as he opens the door, and I climb out. The sunshine hits me first as I take a few steps toward the building. I feel good. Happy. Confident in myself. All a first for me.
“Excuse me?” a young woman asks from the side, and I stop to help.
“Yes?” I look at her. She is familiar, but I can’t place her.
“I’m sorry, but I am lost. I’m trying to find Dr. Wilson's office?” she asks, and I see a file in her hand. It hits me then that this is the same woman who was trying to find Dr. Wilson last week.
“Oh, sure. Just through the door and down the hallway to the right. You will see the signs for the professional offices,” I say cheerily. I feel like a new person. I have a new spring in my step. And while I still look around for Steve, that dark cloud not yet erased, I can’t help but feel a little lighter.
“Thank you so much,” she says genuinely as she pushes her glasses up her nose and turns and walks in the direction I told her. I watch her go, before looking up at the sun, letting the warmth skirt on my face.
Can this be my life?
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN - EDDIE
Ihave had a shit round. The sun is warm, the course in great condition, but my mind is racing with the fact that I need to finish up here, shower and change, get to the supermarket to grab the ingredients for my pasta carbonara, and make it in time for when Katie gets home.
Our cart pulls up, and my brothers and I jump out. As I grab my putter from the back of the cart and walk to the green, all three of my brothers stand next to each other, shoulder to shoulder, with their arms crossed over their chests, looking at me.
“What?” I bark, probably a little too harshly, but their stare is putting me off.
“What’s up with you?” my older brother Ben asks, eyeing me suspiciously.
“Nothing, what's up with you?” I shrug it off, but none of them are budging as they stand side by side, assessing me like three thugs in a dark alleyway.
“Something's off,” Harrison, the eldest of us boys and current governor, says, rubbing his chin in thought.
“Nothing's off.” I shake my head and brush them off.
“You look different,” Harrison says.
“I look the same.” I feign boredom, but I dofeeldifferent. Jumpy. Light. Excited. Happy.
“No, your hair, it's longer. You need a cut?” Harrison questions, trying to work out what is different about me.
“I’m not cutting it,” I say sharply. The way Pinkie loves my hair, I am not touching it at all.
“Touchy?” Tennyson joins in. He is the biggest asshole of all of us.
“I'm not touchy,” I sneer.
“You need to get laid,” Tennyson says, and I huff a laugh and shake my head.
“Shit, I forgot about that woman at Harborside you were meeting. So youaregetting laid?” Tennyson asks, wide-eyed, a smirk on his face, clearly happy that he has caught me out.
“What is so shocking about that?” I say, mildly offended.
