Wright with Benefits (Wright Series #8) - K.A. Linde Page 0,89

suffer. At least I would get to use my attorney against the scheming bitch.

“She was different with me,” Julian said, as if that were an explanation. “Just realizing that wasn’t enough.”

“I’m sorry, man. This weekend sucks.”

“Understatement.” He finished off the second beer. “What are you going to do about Annie?”

“She didn’t even want you to tell me she went to the party. Do you think I have much of a chance?”

“I think she’s hurting, but yes, unlike me and Ashleigh, you have a chance.”

“Then I’m going to win her back.”

Julian’s smile brightened the room. “Damn right you are.”

39

Annie

Jordan didn’t contact me over the weekend. A part of me was happy to have the time to myself before I went back to the hospital Monday morning. I was thankful for long shifts, so I could forget about this messed up weekend.

The other part of me…had been hoping he’d reach out. I didn’t want to talk to him, but I wanted him to want to talk to me. Which sounded ridiculous, but there was no way I was making the first move. I’d thrown that ring at him. Ball was in his court.

Cézanne was in the lounge when I dropped my stuff off in the morning. “What are you doing here?”

“I moved over to a pediatric ER for an extra week. I thought it would help me in family practice,” she said as she finished off a coffee. “I heard you had an eventful weekend.”

“Blah,” I said. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Well, let me tell you about my weekend,” she gushed.

I sat down to finish my own coffee. “By all means.”

“I might or might not have hooked up with Gerome.”

My eyes widened. “Gerome, Gerome? From the soccer team?”

“The one. We met at a family reunion. Our families don’t really get along, and we’re not related, but it’s like his cousin and my cousin got married. That kind of thing. A cousin of a cousin married his cousin of a cousin of a cousin.” She waved her hand. “We kind of got into it, and then one thing led to another.”

“Oh my God! That’s amazing. I can’t believe this.”

“Me either, honestly. I always thought he was just like his family, and he always thought I was just like mine. Turns out…nope.”

I squealed with Cézanne over her new boy, excited that at least someone had gotten some this weekend.

Then a man walked into the lounge.

“Uh, I have a delivery for Annie Donoghue.”

“That’s me,” I said in confusion.

He held up a giant vase of a dozen red roses. “Here you go. Enjoy!”

I took them from him, and then he walked away.

“Shit, girl. Look at that!” Cézanne said.

I set them down on the counter and took the card out with a trembling hand.

* * *

You’re all I’m thinking about.

—J

* * *

Cézanne read over my shoulder and did a little dance. “Oh boy, he’s in deep.”

My eyes were wide as I stared at the stunning blooms. They smelled amazing. They weren’t enough, but maybe they were a start. A sign that he was still thinking about me after what had happened. What girl could turn down flowers anyway?

“You going to forgive him yet?”

I set the card down with a sly smile. “Not yet.”

Tuesday was hectic.

I felt dead on my feet by the time lunch rolled around. How had Tuesday turned into such a Monday? I trekked into the cafeteria to find Cézanne. She waved me over.

“You’re late,” she accused.

I shook my head and yawned. “It’s been crazy.”

“Someone delivered pad thai from Thai Pepper for you,” she said. “I claimed it.”

I blinked. “Pad thai?”

“Yep.” Cézanne shot me the look. “No note though.”

I bit my lip in excitement.

I didn’t have to guess who had gotten it for me.

Neither did she.

“What do you think he’s going to send today?” Cézanne asked the next morning.

I rolled my eyes at her. “Nothing.”

“Psh, two days in a row, and he hasn’t called or texted? Boy has a plan. You’ll get something.”

“I don’t think so. If he wanted to make it up to me, he’d come here and apologize.”

“Would he? Or would he send you another dozen roses?”

“Shush,” I said, hitting her with my mask as I left the lounge.

Wednesday, unlike Tuesday, was dead in the ER. I never thought that was a real thing. It was always swamped. Not that the doctors let me slack or anything. I was thoroughly busy with the dreaded paperwork.

By the time I was off some blear-eyed twelve hours later, the sun was fully down, and