Private Practice (16 page)

Ellie shook her head, battling disbelief. “Tyler told you this?”

Frank nodded. “Get sober and get my head together or he’d have me arrested and I’d never see you again. Said those were my ‘options.’ I’ve seen some good bluffs in my day, but looking at him, I knew he meant every word. I went to my first meeting Saturday night, got matched up with Sharon as my sponsor. I’ve been sober for”—he squinted at the clock on the wall opposite the bed—“damn near three days.”

“That’s amazing,” she said, meaning it, even though the information about Tyler left her almost as stunned as her father’s sobriety. Nobody had ever interceded in her relationship with Frank. Not even when she was little. Of course, she’d never asked for help, either. Asking for help meant letting someone know the sorry state of her home life, and the only thing more humiliating than the relationship itself would have been letting someone else know. But Tyler had seen, and he’d stepped in. Part of her wanted to be angry at his interference, but she couldn’t. Not when, thanks to him, Frank was making an effort to take responsibility for his health. She owed him her gratitude, on top of everything else.

“You were at your first meeting Saturday night when I stopped by to drop off groceries?”

“Yeah. I left you a note.”

“I saw. Sunday night I drove by your place around nine, but all the lights were off.”

“Another meeting, and afterward, Sharon and I went and got coffee. Talked some more. She told me her story, how she lost her husband ten years back and hit the bottle hard for a long while afterward. She’s been sober for five years now, but she remembers what it was like, being where I am.”

“Sound like you two talked quite a bit.”

“Talking is a big part of this program. I swear I never flapped my gums so much in my life as I have these past few days.”

“I’ll bet,” she said, biting back a smile at the image of her stubborn, taciturn father sitting in a circle of sympathetic listeners, discussing his feelings. But it was exactly what he needed to do, and the knowledge that he’d taken these first shaky steps down the path to wellness left her cautiously optimistic. “Sharon’s waiting to see you, if you’re ready for more talking?”

“Yeah, yeah, in a minute. I, uh…you’ve been seeing a lot of Longfoot?”

Oh, God, they were
not
having this conversation. “Frank—”

“I just wanna say he cares about you. I hope I didn’t screw anything up for you there.”

She stared at the floor and blinked hard, because hot tears suddenly threatened. “No. I screwed it up all on my own.”

“You’ve given out a lot of second chances, kid. Take one yourself.”

Chapter Eighteen

“Jackets suck. Ties suck. This whole outfit sucks. I don’t know how I let you talk me into this. I look like a moron and I probably sounded like one, too,” Junior whispered to Tyler, as if his voice might carry down the carpeted hallway and through the closed door of the conference room at Bluelick Savings and Loan where the lending committee currently convened. Tyler folded his arms across his chest—mostly to keep from fidgeting with his own tie—and gave Junior what he hoped was a reassuring look.

“You did fine, answered all their questions cogently—”

“Ty, I don’t even know what that means.”

Tyler bit back a smile. “It means you sounded like you knew what you were talking about. We both did. If they don’t approve the loan, it’s not because we had our heads up our asses.”

Grady Landry stepped out of the conference room, glanced down the hall at them, glanced away, then drew himself up and walked toward them. Tyler braced for bad news. When Grady drew even, his tombstone of a face split into a grin. He slapped Junior on the shoulder and pumped Tyler’s hand. “Congratulations, boys, you got yourselves a loan.”

Junior yee-hawed and returned Grady’s slap, whacking the big man’s shoulder hard enough to make Tyler wince, then whacking Tyler’s for good measure. “Shit, Grady. I thought you were coming down here to chase us off.”

Grady’s smile widened. “I’m entitled to a little fun now and then.” He ushered them to the lobby. “You gave the committee a solid presentation, impressed them with the project plan, the stability and skill of your team, and the numbers. Basically, you took away their reasons to say no. Go celebrate. Tyler, I’ll call you when the docs are ready.”

After another round of handshakes Tyler followed Junior out the door and into the midday sun. Junior punched his shoulder again. “Still think everyone sees you as an irresponsible troublemaker who’s only good for one thing?”

“Maybe not the irresponsible troublemaker part, but unfortunately, the person who matters most still sees me as only good for one thing.”

“You’re just going to have to show her she’s wrong. Get on over there and tell her Bluelick Savings and Loan decided to take a chance on you, and she should, too. Oh, and tell her I hope Frank’s feeling better.”

“I just saw Frank Friday night. He’s fine.”

Junior shot him a funny look, and then shook his head. “Okay, bad news. Ellie may, in fact, think you’re only good for one thing. She hauled herself over to Lexington Memorial last night because paramedics brought Frank to the ER with some kind of complication from his diabetes. I found out this morning from Lou Ann, whose cousin works the admissions desk and was on duty when they brought him in. By the time she clocked out they listed him in good condition, but last she heard they were keeping him a few days.”

Tyler stared at Junior for a minute, trying to wrap his head around the fact that Ellie hadn’t called to tell him her father was in the hospital. Not for support, a ride, a shoulder to cry on—nothing.

“Hey Tyler, hold up,” a voice called from behind him. He turned to see Roger crossing the street.

Fucking perfect, Tyler thought and felt sweat roll down his spine.

Junior squirmed out of his jacket, yanked his tie loose and wiped a forearm across his forehead. “Whew, I could use a sweet tea. I’m gonna run on over to Jiffy Java and get me one. You want one?”

“Yeah,” Tyler managed. “I’ll be right over.”

Junior jogged across the square while Roger closed in.

“Hi, Tyler. I was hoping to run into you. Got a minute?”

He made a show of looking at his watch. “About a minute.”

The blond man offered him a smile—one Tyler dearly wanted to knock off his face.

“Did Ellie explain what you saw last night?”

Tyler started walking to avoid giving in to a troublemaking impulse right in front of the bank. “I haven’t spoken to her, but what I saw last night doesn’t need any explanation.”

Roger fell into step beside him. “Well, shoot. Yes it does.” He clamped a hand on Tyler’s arm. “Wait up.”

His temper spiked. “Trust me Roger, you want to move that hand. I’m not in a ‘Congratulations, the best man won’ kind of mood right now.”

Roger lifted his hand and held it up. “Fine. Not a problem, ’cause I didn’t. Win, I mean.” He ran his hand through his hair and puffed out a breath. “I’m saying this wrong. Look, Tyler, Ellie and I are friends.”

“You looked real friendly last night.” He tightened his jaw to bite off the rest of his words. She was free to pick her
friends
. He hadn’t made her any promises beyond five playdates and hadn’t asked any from her. It was on him to change that.

“Last night you caught a moment of silliness, not passion. I’d just told her…” Roger broke off and glanced around, then lowered his voice. “I’d just told Ellie I’m gay.”

Okay, so the words confirmed his suspicion, but they didn’t erase the lip-lock. “And she reacted by trying to show you what you were missing?”

Roger laughed. “Sort of, but not the way you think. Believe me, Tyler, what you saw wasn’t her attempting to change my mind. It was more a good-bye and good-luck kind of thing.”

Tyler took a deep breath and released it slowly. “So, you and Ellie aren’t—?”

“Nope,” Roger said, shaking his head.

“And she’s not attracted to you?”

“Thanks for rubbing it in, but no, she’s not. She’d talked herself into believing she ought to want me, but she doesn’t. And she reached that conclusion before I told her the truth about myself. I could be the straightest guy in town and it wouldn’t change the way she feels. I’m not the one for her. If you want my opinion, I’d say her heart is already spoken for, but she’s afraid to trust what it’s telling her.” He smiled and backed up a step. “I think if someone grew a pair of balls to replace the set Junior shot off, and told her how
he
felt—”

“You know, I’m getting tired of folks around here speculating about my equipment.”

Roger grinned and took another step away. “Maybe you ought to make a bold move and prove us all wrong.”

“Yeah, right.” Tyler stared across the square at Ellie’s office, then turned to Roger and added, “Thanks for clarifying what went down last night.”

“No problem. Thanks for not decking me.” With a quick wave, he walked away.

Tyler took out his phone and dialed Ellie’s office. When Melody picked up, he asked, “What’s the word on Frank?”

“Hey, Tyler. He’s okay. Ellie’s going to see him up this afternoon. I’m relieved you’re in the loop. I wasn’t sure she’d told anyone. You know how contained she can be.”

“I do know,” he said drily. “How’s she doing?”

“Tired and stressed. I wish I could tell you more, but we’ve been dealing with patients since first thing this morning. We haven’t had much chance to talk. I’d let you speak to her, but she’s in with someone right now and if she doesn’t finish soon she’s not going to get ten lousy minutes to sit down and eat lunch. Want me to leave her a message you called?”

“No, that’s okay.” He didn’t want to squeeze the things he had to say to her in between patients or a trip to Lexington to visit her father. “I’ll catch up with her later.”

“I think she’ll be back from Lexington after six, if you want to try her then.”

“Thanks, Mel.” He glanced at his watch and did some quick figuring. He could do better than a phone call at six if he got his ass in gear.

…

Ellie plopped into her chair and stifled a groan when she checked the patient schedule on her desk. Busy was good, she reminded herself, but a fifteen-minute lunch break she was five minutes late starting wouldn’t do much for her headache and sagging energy. Or her hunger. She needed food and was contemplating her options—a candy bar or a bag of pretzels from the snack stash in her desk drawer—when Melody knocked on the open door and came in carrying a to-go bag from DeShay’s.

She set the bag down front and center on Ellie’s desk. “I took the liberty of ordering you a turkey and Swiss on wheat.”

Ellie’s stomach growled its approval. “I’m giving you a raise,” she said, digging into the bag. “A big one. Name your price.”

The blonde laughed and perched on the corner of the desk. “Let’s see how this month’s receipts look and then we’ll talk. Speaking of talking, I spoke to Roger last night.”

Unsure what to say, Ellie concentrated on opening the sandwich wrapper and spreading it out into a makeshift place mat.

“He told me he came out to you, and you were incredibly understanding and supportive.”

“That’s sweet of him to say, but I reacted like any friend would.”

“Not in his mind. He’s got this deep-seated fear everybody will loathe him if they know the truth, so he hasn’t opened up to many people. I’ve tried to convince him otherwise, but my assurances only go so far.” She paused, and took a deep breath. “Can you forgive me for not telling you about Roger? I promised him I wouldn’t tell a soul.”

“There’s nothing to forgive. It’s not your fault I refused to see several huge signs that were staring me right in the face.”

Melody brushed that aside with a wave of her hand. “Sometimes the journey to love involves some bumpy detours, as any girl with a gay ex-fiancé will tell you. But I’ve learned a smooth trip isn’t particularly important. Getting there is what matters.”

“Are you getting there?”

She smiled and nodded. “Yes, I believe I am, finally. Josh makes an excellent guide. He keeps me on the right path.”

“I’m glad,” Ellie said, meaning it. “Send me a postcard from happily ever after, because I don’t think I’m making the trip anytime soon.”

Melody stood and strolled to the door. At the threshold, she turned and gave Ellie an odd look. “Something tells me you’re not as far away as you think.”

Before Ellie could reply, the bell dinged from the waiting room, signaling the arrival of the next patient. She started to get up, but Melody stopped her. “Eat. I’ve got to get new insurance information and take care of the co-pay. Don’t worry, I’ll get you out of here on time.”

“Have I mentioned a raise lately?”

Melody laughed as she walked away. “Yeah, you have.”

Ellie bounced like a pinball between exam rooms all afternoon, seeing patients, writing prescriptions, updating charts…and yet somehow still found time to obsess over Tyler. Should she call him and try to explain herself, or stop by his place so they could speak face-to-face? What, exactly, should she say to him?
When I asked you to teach me how to be wilder in bed, I wanted to turn myself into Roger’s fantasy woman. I never dreamed I’d end up falling in love with you.
If the “I love you” part didn’t send him running for the hills, the “turn myself into Roger’s fantasy woman” would.
God, Ellie
, she scrubbed a hand over her tired eyes and stifled a noise somewhere between a whimper and a groan.
What the hell were you thinking?

Certainly not that spending time with Tyler would be so easy, so effortless, and so addictive. She’d been physically attracted to him from the start, but his sexy smile and easy charm had distracted her from the strength of his character and the capacity of his heart. She hadn’t expected to find a friend, a confidant, a soul mate. She hadn’t expected to find love.

The half hour spent driving to Lexington to check on Frank brought her no closer to figuring out how to explain herself. Their visit offered no chance to sort through her muddled thoughts because Frank spent the entire time complaining about lousy hospital food and bloodsucking nurses. But hey, at least they were talking.

While she was there, Sharon stopped by with a get well soon gift—a diabetic cookbook. Sharon and Frank sat together on the bed, leafing through the book. Frank insisted every entrée looked “like crap,” but Sharon kept at him, and before long, had him talked him into trying one with her as soon as his hospital stay ended. Ellie said goodbye and headed out. Her dad was in good hands, and she had her own issues to tackle, starting with the screwed-up mess of her love life.

She rehearsed what to say to Tyler on the drive home. First off, she owed him an explanation as to why she’d been kissing Roger yesterday evening. That was a relatively easy conversation, compared to the thornier things she had to confess. Maybe Tyler didn’t care—they never discussed exclusivity, after all—but it mattered to her. She wanted him to know the whole truth. He deserved to know the truth, including her real motive for seeking sexual experience, no matter how sadly misguided she’d been. Hand-in-hand with the explanation about Roger, she owed him an apology for manipulating him into helping her with such a crass, calculated pursuit. Once she got all that out on the table, the chance he’d believe she’d developed genuine feelings for him, or was even capable of genuine feelings, seemed remote.
Hi, I spent the last few weeks using you to help me win another man’s heart, but now I realize I don’t love him
—
I love you
. He’d probably crack a rib laughing at her.

She parked her car in the driveway and headed to her front door, still deep in thought, and drew up short when she saw Tyler sitting on her porch steps. For a second, she simply drank in the sight of him while her heart skipped around in her chest. Belatedly, she noticed his truck parked in her driveway, between the house and the garage.

“Tyler…what are you doing here?”

He slowly got to his feet, eyes never leaving her face. “How’s your dad?”

“How did you know—?”

“It’s a small town. Word travels.”

Clearly, it did. Was that why he’d come? To ask about Frank? She approached the porch, trying without much success to get a read on his mood. As usual he exuded calm and his expression gave nothing away.

“Frank’s okay. Mismanaging his diabetes landed him in the ER, but if there’s a bright side to a night in the hospital, he seems to be taking his disease seriously. Also, he joined AA.”

Her voice held steady, but her heartbeat refused to normalize. The weight of everything she wanted to say threatened to crush her.

“Good. I hope he follows through.”