to do.”
“At least the shallow prick has a name.”
He’d expected her to laugh. She didn’t.
“How long did you two date?”
“About a year.”
“You mentioned he dumped you?”
“Yeah.”
“The guy’s obviously a dickhead.” He wanted to ask the all-important “why” but had to lead into it. “Did you live together?”
“He wanted to, but my house is my haven. He rented near the restaurant where he worked, so it made sense for us to hang out there anyway.” She snorted. “I think he only suggested moving in together to cut back on rent.”
“So he wasn’t the love of your life?”
“Hell no.”
He cast a quick glance at her, and she was tight-lipped, her silhouette rigid.
“Why did you break up?”
There, he’d asked the million-dollar question, but as he turned into her street, she remained silent.
“Harper?”
“Talking about old boyfriends is a real mood killer,” she muttered, folding her arms and slouching. “Drop it, okay?”
More intrigued than ever by her recalcitrance to talk about it, he turned into her driveway as his pager went off.
“Are you on call?”
He shook his head and picked up the pager, groaning when he saw the number. “This is from my office, which can only mean one thing.”
“What?”
“Problems.”
He slid his cell out of his pocket and called the number, not surprised when his second in charge said two of their doctors had come down with gastro and there’d been a major pileup on the Western Ring Road, meaning patients would be flown in to their ER as first point of call.
“I’ll be there in thirty,” he said, and hung up, before turning to Harper. “Sorry, but I have to go. Staff shortage at the hospital, and a stack of incoming trauma patients.”
“Go,” she said, her stiff posture finally relaxing as she reached out to cup his cheek. “I think it’s beyond cool you save the world.”
“I can’t save everyone.”
The bitter retort popped out before he could stop it, but before she could delve deeper, he said, “I really have to go. I’ll call you.”
“Okay.”
They met halfway across the console and exchanged a quick kiss that felt obligatory rather than passionate. He hated it. He didn’t want their evening to end like this, with her feeling defensive about his probing for information about her ex, and him remembering how he couldn’t save the one person he’d wanted to.
He waited until she’d unlocked her front door and slipped inside before reversing out of her drive. She hadn’t looked back, and it made him wonder if he’d screwed up this relationship before it had barely begun.
47
Manny didn’t call.
Then again, Harper heard about the multicar pileup on the news late last night and first thing this morning, and she guessed he would still be working.
She couldn’t fathom having such a high-pressure job, where a split-second decision could literally mean the difference between life and death. She loved his sense of humor, but it made her wonder if he used it as a defense mechanism to deal with the trauma he saw on a daily basis.
He’d been defensive last night when she’d made the offhand comment about saving the world. It had been stupid, in hindsight. He probably thought she was making light of a serious subject.
Their whole conversation in the car last night had been a drag. Not that they’d said much. She’d been stewing over her run-in with Colin, and he’d taken his cue from her, remaining silent until they’d almost reached her place.
She’d been angry at herself more than anything, for giving Colin the satisfaction of caring about being dumped by him. She could’ve handled it better, like pretending he didn’t exist. But she’d lost it when he’d stared at her, admiration with a hint of something more in his eyes, like she was back to being beautiful after revealing the ugliness. It had triggered her in a way she hadn’t anticipated, though her comeback about inches had been snidely clever.
Harper didn’t give a crap about height or size; if she had, she wouldn’t have dated Colin. But it had been a low blow criticizing his lack of . . . ahem . . . inches, just because he’d resurrected her old feelings of inadequacy by focusing on her looks.
As she toyed with her cell, contemplating sending a text to Manny for when he finished his shift, it rang and Samira’s name popped up.
Glad for the distraction, she answered. “Hey.”
“Hey yourself. I’ve got Pia on the line too, conference call.”
Ah . . . so this would be a dissection of last night’s drinks at the