What the Heart Wants ; Sealed with a Kiss Read online

  “Really?”

  “It’s what I came to Jameson for, isn’t it?”

  “I’m sure that it is, but I decide when you’re ready.”

  She folded her arms. “I think I proved that today.” Her chest rose. “So when are you going to ‘decide’ when I’m ready?” She cocked her head to the side.

  He studied her defiant stance, the half-taunting smile on those damned pouty lips. Typical. It annoyed him to no end and shot him with need at the same time. “If you think you can handle it.” Did that come out the way it sounded?

  “I know I can.”

  He bet that she could. “I’ll take it into consideration,” Franklin said, finding himself conceding to her—again.

  “Fine.”

  They faced off.

  Franklin cleared his throat, lifted his chin. “About the anniversary party... I don’t want you to feel obligated.”

  “No. Not at all. I’d really like to go. It’ll be fun.”

  “Okay, then. It’s Saturday night, by the way. Seven o’clock.”

  “I’ll be ready, or should I meet you there?”

  “I can pick you up.”

  “Perfect.”

  “Good job, Dr. Hamilton,” he repeated, then left through the swinging doors.

  * * *

  Dr. Hamilton. Hmm, clearly he was trying to keep it professional, but she’d watched him twist and untwist his cap between his fingers while he was talking to her. He was actually nervous! She smiled. The great Franklin Grant. Who knew?

  Chapter 5

  “Hey, Dina.”

  Dina stopped with her hand on the knob of her office door, glanced over her shoulder. “Hi, Anna. I’ve got a minute, come on in.” She opened the door. Anna walked in behind her.

  “How did the surgery go this morning?” She plopped down on the side chair.

  Dina shrugged out of her white coat and hung it on the wooden rack—a gift from her mentor in Los Angeles, Dr. Fulton, then sat down behind her desk. “Exhausting. But... Kicked butt!” She beamed with pride.

  “I wanted to be in on the viewing, but an emergency came in. All the hands were on your deck, so they called me.”

  Dina wanted to like Anna Lorde. She was one of the few doctors with whom Dina talked outside work. With the two of them being the only females of color on the surgical team, it should somehow bring them together. But it was comments like that one that raised the hairs on the back of her neck. Anna never came right out and said anything foul, but the scent of it often hung in the air. Instead of relying on her skills to get ahead, she all too often used her exotic Latina looks and even at times playing the victim which garnered more sympathy than respect. She’d known women like Anna all through med school, throughout her life, actually. Sonia Fleming for example. Third-year medical student, talented, smart, easy on the eyes but every chance she got she played the victim or would kick the unsuspecting intern under the bus. Passive-aggressive. They never quite said what they meant, but the implication was evident. With Anna, she was never sure if she was friend or foe. Even though she’d only been at Jameson for six months, she’d figured out the best way to deal with Anna’s insecurities. Feed her ego.

  “Really? What was the case?”

  Anna waved her slender hand in a dismissive motion. “Nothing as medical journal worthy as yours.”

  Dina inwardly rolled her eyes. “Everything we do is important. Did you save the patient’s life?”

  “Of course,” she said as if there could be any doubt.

  Dina gave a light shrug. “See.”

  Anna poked out her lips, sighed. “Of course you’re right.” She tucked a lock of sleek dark hair behind her right ear revealing a tiny gold stud. “I don’t know how you do it, Dina.”

  Here we go. “Do what?”

  “Stay so upbeat and positive. It’s totally cutthroat. And it’s so much harder for women to rise up the ranks, like we aren’t qualified.” She lowered her voice as if letting Dina in on some secret. “That’s why we need to stick together.”

  Dina’s right brow lifted. “Stick together?”

  “Yes. Us. Me and You. Women.”

  Dina cleared her throat. Hmm, umm. “Well, tell me about the patient,” she segued.

  Anna’s sandy-toned face lit up as if she’d been stroked with a warm hand. Dina leaned back in her chair and set her expression to “interested.” What she would rather do is talk to a real girlfriend about the out-of-the-blue invitation that Dr. Grant had presented. Talk over drinks about what it really meant, if anything at all; what she should wear and most important, what should she do when he took her home? The problem was, she didn’t have any real girlfriends. She wished she could blame it on having relocated from Los Angeles to DC, but she knew that wasn’t the issue. The issue was that as much as she dreamed of the camaraderie of friendship, she didn’t trust anyone to actually get that close. She was her own example of passive-aggressive, which was why she could spot it in others. At least with hers, she wasn’t destructive to others, just herself.

  “I heard the robotics were a big hit. Everyone is buzzing,” Anna said.

  Dina blinked Anna back into her train of thought. “Hey,” she said, nonchalant, “everything is always a big deal in the beginning. Once it becomes part of our everyday routine—” she shrugged “—we’ll be wondering what the big deal was.”

  “I still say we should celebrate. Plus, I am dying to hear what it was like having the great Dr. Grant zoomed in on your every move.”

  Her belly tightened. She could feel the heat of his presence, an almost-there scent of his maleness that clung to her long after they’d parted ways and kept her body on simmer. “Like working with any other gifted surgeon,” she said with cool detachment.

  Anna leaned back and crossed her legs. “But you have to admit Franklin Grant is hot!”

  Dina smothered a smile. That he was, but she would never admit that to Anna. “I have two patients to see and a consult,” Dina said while she rose to her feet. “I’ll leave the assessment of Dr. Grant to you.”

  “Not. A. Problem. How about that drink later? I should be done here by six.”

  “I’ll text you,” Dina said. She took her jacket from the hook, and picked up her iPad from the desk.

  Anna followed her out into the corridor. “See you later?”

  “No promises.”

  They walked in opposite directions. Maybe she would take Anna up on her offer. She did have her moments when she could be fun to be with. It was those other times that were the problem.

  Chapter 6

  Grant scanned the X-rays on the wall-length monitor, moving methodically from one slide to the next. None of the images registered. He’d lost track of how long he’d been looking but not seeing. He wanted to blame it on exhaustion from the hours in surgery, but surgery wasn’t the culprit. When he walked into the OR, the power to heal, to cure, to save a life was a feeling akin to euphoria. He never took what he did for granted. The ability, vision and skill to repair a heart, the centerpiece of life, was given to a chosen few. His mentor, the renowned Dr. Elliot Pratt, who had perfected the artificial-valve technique in the lower chamber of the heart, had ushered him toward cardiothoracic surgery. During his surgical rotation, Dr. Pratt singled him out to assist him on a groundbreaking procedure. He was scared as hell, but Dr. Pratt never wavered in his confidence as he guided him through the intricate surgery. The overwhelming sense of achievement was a drug that seeped into his veins and he couldn’t kick the habit. That day he discovered his destiny, and every move and decision that he made since had been to fulfill that destiny. Knowing that didn’t explain his disconnect from his work. The explanation was Dr. Hamilton.

  He flipped a switch on the side of the monitor and the lights went out leaving behind the ghostly halo of a patient’s heart. He massaged the bridge of his nose. The fi
rst rule of healing was to accept that you had a problem. Dina Hamilton was a problem. From the moment she arrived at Jameson Memorial and was assigned to his team, he hadn’t been himself—at least the self he knew. Anytime she was in the vicinity it was as if some kind of brain fog came over him. Clarity escaped him and in its place was a tension that even got under his skin. He knew how skilled she was, the best he’d seen in years. But because of his mixed feelings about her, he rode her harder, made her fight for every inch, as if by doing so, he’d shield himself and the rest of his team from the fact that he favored her, was turned on by her. And now of all the screwed-up things to do, he’d asked her out.

  The truth was he’d wanted to ask her out from the moment he’d spotted her in the lecture hall nearly six months earlier. The room was filled with eager talent, all hanging on his every word, all wanting the opportunity to hone their skills under his supervision. Yet, in the sea of faces his gaze landed on Dina Hamilton. Her hair was pulled back that day, which widened her eyes. She’d stared right at him, defiant almost, and lifted her chin as if daring him—to what he didn’t know. For an instant the subtle tease short-circuited his train of thought. He’d repeated himself. He knew he did but it was the only way he could gather his thoughts. At the end of the lecture he was surrounded by young interns. He barely heard their questions.

  He shook away the memory. That didn’t help. If anything it sent his thoughts into disarray. This was why he worked so hard to keep walls up, at work and in his personal life. Relationships were distractions. Relationships drained you; they went wrong and then you had to recover. He turned to face the window, slid his hands into the pockets of his navy slacks. Drained you the way Lindsay had drained him, shook him loose from his anchor, then set him adrift. But one thing that he’d always prided himself on was learning from his mistakes.

  Attraction was one thing, consensual sex was another, but what the heart often wanted could never be planned. After Lindsay, his plan was never again to mix feelings with pleasure.

  Chapter 7

  Dina gripped the silver-plated handle of the entry door to The Bottom and hoped that she hadn’t made a mistake in deciding to meet up with Anna. She pulled the heavy door open and was greeted by the sound of tinkling glasses, muffled conversations and bursts of laughter. A blend of mouthwatering aromas reminded her that the she hadn’t eaten since breakfast.

  Her eyes adjusted to the dimly lit interior as she scanned the space for signs of Anna. The Bottom, the go-to spot for the doctors and nurses at Jameson, could seat maybe eighty customers at the long, family-style rectangular wooden tables that were laid out in various configurations of rows. When Dina came there for the first time the setup reminded her of the cabin turned dining hall at sleepaway camp when she was eleven. Growing up as an only child—at least the early part of her life—she was pretty traumatized by camp. Sharing a room with strangers, community bathrooms and eating meals in a room full of laughing, screaming preteens was pure sensory overload. The first week she cried every single day, and it wasn’t until Marian Lewis decided to make Dina her friend that life at camp not only became bearable but one of the best experiences of her life. She often wondered what happened to Marian. They’d stayed in touch for a couple of years after that first summer, but life and cute boys got in the way. But it was the deaths of her parents that changed everything for her.

  “Hey, sorry to keep you waiting.” Anna slid up behind her.

  Dina put on her smile. “No worries. I just got here.”

  “Oh, good. I’m starving. So, let’s get a table.” She hooked her arm through Dina’s as if they were besties.

  “Sure.” She made out that she needed to search her purse. Anna unhooked her arm. “Here it is.” She pulled her wallet from her purse. “I had a vision in my head that I’d left it in my other bag.” She laughed lightly.

  Anna angled her head to the side in question and squinted. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes. Fine. Guess I’m hungry and tired.”

  The hostess approached. “Bar or table?”

  Anna looked to Dina.

  “Table is fine,” Dina answered for them both.

  “Right this way.” She scooped up two menus, then led them across the wood plank floor to a table that sat six in the rear of the space. She placed the menus on the table. “Your waiter will be with you shortly.”

  Dina shrugged out of her pearl-gray trench car coat, hung it on the back of her seat, then sat down. Anna sat opposite Dina.

  “Aren’t you hot in that sweater?” Dina asked and picked up the menu.

  “Girl, I’m always cold.” She stretched her hand across the table and clasped Dina’s fingers.

  Dina flinched. “Damn, Anna, you’re like a vampire or something.”

  “See.” She gave a light shrug. “Cold hands, warm heart my mother used to say.”

  “I guess. But you’re a doctor. You know better. Could be a vitamin deficiency. Poor circulation...”

  Anna held up her hand. “I am not going to dissect my health. I’m here for girl talk, drinks and food.”

  “Okaaay.”

  The waiter arrived and they shouted out their drink and menu orders over the wave of voices and music from the jukebox.

  “So we really haven’t had much of a chance to talk outside work,” Anna began.

  Dina gave a slight shrug. “Busy lives.”

  Anna shifted in her seat. “I pick my associates wisely and friends even more so. Especially at the hospital. It is truly cutthroat unless you have a patron.” She leveled her gaze at Dina.

  “That’s pretty much how it is all over. If you want to advance your career you need a mentor.”

  She leaned across the table. “It’s why I said earlier that we need to stick together.”

  The waiter arrived with their drinks, and hurried off, while the hostess seated a trio at their table.

  Dina and Anna gave the newly seated group a quick cursory smile and returned to their drinks.

  “So... Your fellowship is finishing up pretty soon. What are your plans?”

  Dina took a sip of her martini. “It depends on if I get an offer to stay at Jameson. Otherwise, there’s a spot open back in LA. I only need to decide if I want to take it.”

  “Nice to have options.”

  Dina rolled her eyes in her mind. “We all have options, Anna. It’s up to the individual to decide what to do with them.”

  “Easy for you to say. Look at you. You have it all going on. And apparently you’ve fallen under the good graces of Dr. Grant.”

  Dina linked her fingers together and leaned forward, lowered her voice. “Anna, the victim role is not a good look.”

  Her neck jerked back. “What?”

  Dina lowered her voice and looked intently at Anna. “No matter what success you accomplish, you find some way to diminish it and act as if everyone else has one up on you. That is so far from the damned truth. You’re such a skilled doctor, Anna. Own it.” She frowned and reached for her drink. “But, hey, if that’s your MO.” She shrugged her right shoulder. “I’m just saying it’s wearing thin.”

  Anna pursed her lips.

  The waiter arrived with their orders. “Can I get you anything else? Refills?”

  “Yes,” Anna said almost too quickly.

  “For you, miss?” he asked, directing his question to Dina.

  “Sure. Thanks.” She gazed across the table at Anna. “If I offended you, I apologize. It wasn’t my intent. I know I can be blunt sometimes.” She licked her bottom lip. This whole girl-talk thing was so out of her comfort zone. She’d always been awkward when it came to expressing her feelings, especially when it came to small talk and conversation to cultivate a friendship. She learned early in life that if you hitched your feelings to another person no matter how simple and innocent, you were bound to be hurt because relationships don’t last. S
he reached for her glass and finished off her drink, but no matter how many drinks, how many successful surgeries, how many accolades, none of it mattered because the ones she loved and trusted left her.

  Anna tugged in a breath. “Nothing came easy for me.”

  Dina raised her gaze from her plate of grilled zucchini and pasta. “Meaning?”

  “Oldest of six.” Her lips pinched together. “Always had to be the responsible one. Got a job after school when I was only thirteen. My mother was rarely home. My father—” she reached for her glass and her eyes narrowed “—he could be any number of people.” She snorted a laugh, drew in a breath, then leveled her gaze on Dina. “Sad. Huh?”

  “I’m sorry,” Dina gently said. “But look at what you’ve accomplished, Anna. Despite tough beginnings.”

  “I suppose I should count myself lucky.” She pushed her salad around in the bowl, then stabbed the lettuce with her fork.

  Dina winced. “So where...did you grow up? Here in DC?”

  “Philadelphia.”

  “Hmm.” She chewed slowly.

  “Oh look who’s here.” Anna lifted her dimpled chin in the direction of the door.

  Dina glanced over her shoulder and her pulse quickened. Franklin Grant. “Everyone gets hungry.” She turned away and focused on breathing.

  Anna waved to signal him.

  Dina wrapped her fingers around her glass, but didn’t dare lift it to her lips. She swore she felt him approach. But he stopped at the table three rows over and began talking to one of the doctors she recognized from the hospital.

  “Wow,” Anna snapped. “Talk about being ignored.”

  Inwardly Dina rolled her eyes. “Probably didn’t see you. Stop taking everything so personal,” she said, relieved that he hadn’t come to their table.

  Anna leaned in and lowered her voice. “I guess all the rumors about Dr. Grant are true.”

  “What rumors?”

  “Elitist and smug.”