Private Partners Page 7
She reached for the top button of her blouse, then looked at him with lifted eyebrows. “Were you planning to watch me change?”
Moving with amazing swiftness, he came off the bed and stood in front of her, his hands covering hers. “Actually, I thought I’d help you.”
Her knees weakened as the first button opened, revealing the curves of her breasts to his eager eyes. Liam had that look—the one that always ignited sparks inside her. She cleared her throat when he teased another button from its hole. “I don’t have much time.”
His grin was wicked. “Then we should make the most of the time you have.”
Sliding her arms around his neck, she decided it would be worth missing dinner if it meant enjoying these stolen minutes with Liam.
Chapter Four
They were finishing the quick meal they’d thrown together when someone rang the doorbell just before six. Liam and Anne both froze, staring at each other wide-eyed across the table.
“Are you expecting anyone?” Anne asked in a low voice.
He frowned. “Of course not. No one even knows I’m here.”
She scooted her chair back and hurried across the room, checking the peephole in her door. Her face paled.
Panic edged her stage whisper. “It’s my father.”
Muttering a curse, Liam grabbed his dishes and shoved them out of sight in the kitchen. Casting one quick glance at the table to make sure it looked as though she’d been dining alone, he almost ran into the office and closed the door behind him as the doorbell pealed demandingly again.
“Dad. This is a surprise.” Anne’s voice was a bit muffled, but still clear through the thin door of the office/bedroom.
Henry Easton, Jr.’s, booming voice was much more distinct. “What took you so long to answer the door?”
“I was, um, on the phone. Come in.”
She wasn’t a great liar, Liam thought, but her father was too self-absorbed to notice, anyway. He heard the front door close as Anne invited her father inside.
“Smells good. You cooked dinner?”
“I was in the mood for grilled ham and cheese tonight. I hope nothing’s wrong at home?”
“No, nothing’s wrong. I know you weren’t expecting me. I guess I should have called first.”
“You’re always welcome here, Dad. Sit down. Can I get you anything?”
Liam glanced at his watch, hoping her father’s surprise visit wouldn’t last long. He could stay quiet, but he wasn’t sure he hadn’t left some clue to his presence lying around the apartment. The longer her father stayed, the more chance there was that he would notice something different.
“No, I can’t stay. Can’t even sit down. I’ve got a meeting to attend tonight. Just wanted to stop by and give you this.”
Liam heard a crinkle—a paper bag, perhaps? And then Anne asked, “What is it?”
“It’s a new Step 1 study guide. I ordered it for you a few days ago and it arrived today. I’ve heard good things about it. Wasn’t sure you’d think to order it for yourself.”
“Gosh, it’s thick. Must have been expensive. Let me reimburse you for it.”
“Not necessary. You know I want to do whatever I can to help you. Pay close attention to the pharmacology sections. And physiology, of course. A good deal of the Step 1 exam will come from those two sections, though you don’t want to neglect any of the others.”
“I know, Dad. We’ve talked about this. Thank you for the book. I’ll start working through it the first chance I get.”
“Good. Let me know if you have any questions.”
“I will. Are you sure I can’t get you anything? A cup of coffee?”
“No, I really have to go. Glad to see you’re eating well. Your mother worries about your diet.”
“She shouldn’t. I’m taking care of myself.”
“How are your classes going? Ready for the test this Friday?”
“I’ve been reviewing the material we’ve gotten so far. My study group is meeting this evening to go over today’s lectures. We’ll be meeting every evening this week to study the new material as we get it.”
“Good. Glad you’re keeping up.”
“I am.” Liam heard the door open. “Thanks again for the study guide, Dad. It was sweet of you to think of me, though you didn’t have to order it. I would have done so for myself if you’d mentioned it to me.”
“I can give my girl a gift occasionally, can’t I?” her father asked with an indulgence that set Liam’s teeth on edge.
He waited until he heard the murmured goodbyes and the sound of the door closing before he risked peeking out to make sure Easton was gone. Anne stood in the center of the room, holding a heavy-looking paperback tome in both hands. The stress was back in her face, he saw immediately. The rosy color had faded from her cheeks, leaving her looking wan and drained. It annoyed him to see the results of even that brief of an encounter with her father.
“That,” she said on a long exhale, “was close.”
“You think we pulled it off? He really believes you were here alone?”
Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, she nodded in relief. “Oh, yes. He’d have said something if he’d noticed anything out of the ordinary.”
“I thought you said your family never drops by unannounced.”
“They don’t, usually. That was the first time.”
She still looked too tense, despite her confidence that they’d gotten away with their subterfuge. “You should finish your dinner.”
She shook her head. “I’ve had enough. I’d better go join my study group. We have a lot of material to cover tonight.”
She set the heavy study guide on the coffee table, looking down at it as if she were wondering how she would ever get through all of those pages in addition to the stacks of books, notes and guides already scattered through the apartment.
“Some gift,” he grumbled. “He could have brought flowers or candy, but he brought more work for you to do instead. Real thoughtful of him.”
He knew she’d taken the criticism wrong when her chin lifted defensively. “Actually, it was a nice gesture. This guide probably cost close to a hundred dollars. And it should be very valuable in helping me study for the Step 1 exam.”
“Why do you always make excuses for him, when all he does in return is pressure you into becoming what he wants you to be?” He honestly didn’t understand her loyalty to her domineering father. How could she even pretend to appreciate the gesture when the stress of the drop-in visit was still evident in the lines around her mouth?
She looked away. “I’m not making excuses for him.”
“Then why don’t you tell him to butt out and let you worry about your own study schedule?”
“He only wants what’s best for me, Liam.”
“So do I,” he returned evenly. “But you don’t see me piling more work on to you and expecting you to thank me for it.”
She sighed. “You just don’t understand how it is between me and my family.”
“No,” he said flatly. “I guess I don’t.”
Liam’s parents had split when Liam was young, and his alcoholic father had returned to his native Ireland not long afterward. Two years after that, Liam’s mother died, leaving Liam to be raised by his mother’s aging parents, now both gone. He’d been fond of his grandparents and had loosely reconnected with his father in the past five years, but he supposed it was true he’d never known the same kind of strong family ties Anne had with her family. Looking at the stress reflected in her eyes now, he figured he hadn’t missed much.
He squeezed the back of his neck with one hand. “I don’t want to fight with you about your father.”
“I don’t want to fight, either.” Avoiding his eyes, she turned to clear away the remains of her abruptly interrupted dinner. “I’ll just clear this stuff away and then I’d better go. You probably want to get back to your revisions, anyway.”
“Yeah,” he muttered, doubting he would accomplish much th
at evening. “I guess you’re right.”
The study group worked hard that evening, with even less small talk and foolishness than usual. Even Ron was uncharacteristically subdued and focused on the material. Anne had been warned by upper classmen that from February on, she would be inundated with material and tests, in addition to the rapidly approaching Step 1. One of her third-year acquaintances had particularly bemoaned the fate of Valentine’s Day in the second year; the romantic holiday was pretty much buried between test cycles, which made taking the whole evening off from studying both perilous and guilt inducing.
Since Valentine’s Day was over a week away, she had no idea if Liam would even still be with her by then. Even if he were, she would still have to devote at least part of the evening to her studies, which she was sure he would understand. They’d been half a world apart last Valentine’s Day. Yet he’d still sent her a lovely card and a beautiful hand-dyed scarf from India.
But she couldn’t think about Liam this evening, she reminded herself for perhaps the dozenth time in the past couple of hours. She had to focus on the physiology, pathology and pharmacology notes.
“The three types of plague are bubonic, septicemic and pneumonic,” Haley muttered, hands over her eyes as she committed the types to memory.
“Treatment for plague is antibiotics within the first twenty-four hours, ideally. First-line antibiotics are streptomycin or gentamicin,” Ron recited, speaking to himself.
“And chloramphenicol for critically ill patients,” Connor added.
James turned another page of his notes, silently internalizing the material. He glanced up to throw out a sample quiz question to the group. “Name two facultative anaerobes.”
“Yersinia is a facultative anaerobe,” Anne said, beating Haley to the punch. “As are Staphylococcus, E. coli and Listeria.”
“Very good,” James said with a smile. He licked his forefinger and marked the air, as if awarding points on an imaginary scoreboard.
“Question for Haley,” Connor tossed out, following their usual pattern of challenges and prompts. “Of Staphylococcus, E. coli, Corynebacterium and Listeria, which ones are gram positive and which gram negative?”
Haley groaned. “Wait, I know this. Only one is gram negative, right? E. coli?”
“Right. Twenty points to Haley.”
Following a recent joking tradition, everyone made a writing motion in the air with their index fingers. It was the first moment of silliness in the past intense hour of studying. Anne could feel some of the tension among them ease as they sat back in their chairs grouped around Connor’s dining table and stretched.
Judging it was a good time to interrupt, Connor’s seven-year-old daughter, Alexis, a towheaded cutie with charming dimples and a gap-toothed smile, bounced up to the table. Dressed in pink pajamas decorated with gray kittens, she was obviously ready for bed. She was followed more sedately by her stepmother, Mia, an attractive woman with light brown hair and kind blue eyes.
“I’m going to bed now,” Alexis announced to everyone as she paused by her father’s chair. “Good night.”
A chorus of smiling good-nights from the study group answered her. Connor gave her a hug and a smacking kiss. “Good night, princess. Sleep well.”
“I will. Study good, Daddy.”
He chuckled. “Yes, I will. Want me to come tuck you in? The group won’t mind if we take a little break.”
Alexis looked pleased by the offer. “Okay.” Taking her father’s hand when he stood, she waved again to the others. “Night.”
James yawned. “I think I’ll step outside for a minute to clear my head. Maybe the cold air will wake me up a little.”
“Hang on, I’ll come with you,” Ron said, reaching for his jacket. “I need to go out to my car, anyway. I need the cord to my laptop. The battery’s getting low.”
“Alexis gets cuter every time I see her,” Anne said to Mia as the three women sat around the table chatting while the men were away. “Is she really as well behaved as she always seems when we’re here?”
“Pretty much,” Mia replied with a pleased smile. “Connor or I rarely have to reprimand her, though it does happen occasionally. Usually for running in the house. She’s always in such a hurry.”
“Oh, to have that much energy again,” Haley groaned.
“Seriously.” Anne sighed wistfully before asking, “How’s your school year going, Mia?”
Mia taught advanced English classes on a high school level. “It’s been a pretty good year, so far. A few pain-in-the-patootie students, as usual, but that’s to be expected.”
“Are you still planning to start grad school next fall?”
“Yes. I’ve already submitted my applications and talked to the admissions office. Connor and I figured we should be able to work around our schedules next year, since he’ll have more evenings free from studying to help with Alexis. Connie Porterfield, the mother of Alexis’s best friend, McKenzie, has already offered to provide after-school care and chauffeur services when both Connor and I are tied up.”
“That was nice of her.”
“She needs someone to watch McKenzie on weekends, when Connie works part-time. I figure I can study some while the girls play together on the weekends, and in the evenings after Alexis goes to bed. It will be a busy time for us, with Connor in his third year of med school and me in my first year of grad school and Alexis in the third grade at her school, but we should be able to work it all out.”
Anne had watched Connor and Mia together, and they made a great team. Both were organized and goal-oriented, yet both put their family first even with all their other responsibilities. She didn’t envision them being defeated by the obstacles that had already ended several of her classmates’ relationships.
Whether she and Liam would be able to survive was another story…one she couldn’t think about tonight.
Mia looked from Anne to Haley. “Poor Connor’s been studying so many hours I can’t help but worry about him, but at least he makes time to play with Alexis for a little while every day. That’s good for both of them, I think. I hope you’re both finding some time to just relax during this cycle.”
Haley and Anne exchanged wry looks and shrugs. “We try,” Haley murmured for them both.
“Speaking of which.” Anne studied Haley over the rim over her coffee cup. “Did you ever call that guy? Kris with the dimple?”
“Kris with the dimple?” Mia repeated, looking intrigued as she studied Haley’s suddenly pink cheeks.
“I sent him a text,” Haley replied. “We’re going out Saturday night.”
“You have a date Saturday night?” Mia clapped her hands. “Good for you, Haley. You really deserve a break.”
“Haley’s got a date?” Connor rejoined them just in time to overhear. “Who’s it with, Haley? Anyone we know?”
“It’s no one you know. Just a guy.”
“Who are we talking about?” James asked, slipping out of his leather jacket as he came back inside, his tanned cheeks a bit red from the cold night air. “What guy?”
Connor answered, “Haley’s got a date Saturday.”
“No kidding. Who with, Haley?”
Haley’s cheeks were bright red now. Anne grimaced apologetically. She shouldn’t have brought this subject up when the others could overhear, she realized. They would tease Haley mercilessly, just because they were guys.
Ron, she noted, had an odd edge to his voice when he asked, “Yeah, Haley. Who’s the poor sap—I mean, who’s the lucky guy?”
Haley shot Ron a scowl, then held up her hands and shook her head. “It’s no one any of you know, okay? And I’d like to keep it that way.”
“How about you, Anne? Do you have a big date this weekend, too?” James asked, his dark eyes alight with his pleasant smile.
“I offered to fix her up, but she turned me down. Again.” Haley shook her head in disapproval.
“I figure that’s a good call, Anne,” Ron gibed. “No telling what
kind of clown Haley would dig up for you.”
“Hey!”
Ever the peacemaker, James directed everyone’s attention back to their purpose for being there. “We’d better get back to the books. Question for Ron—What’s the first-line treatment for Y. enterocolitica infections?”
“Ampicillin or tetracycline,” Ron shot back, his eyes still looking a bit dark as he slid into his chair.
“Fifty points,” James conceded.
Everyone obligingly marked the air, but since their light moods seemed to have evaporated, they went back to work without further foolishness.
It was rather late when Anne returned to her apartment, but Liam was still up. She found him in the office, slumped in the desk chair and glaring darkly at his computer screen. Several crumpled sheets of paper lay on the floor around him. They’d been ripped from the legal pad sitting by his right hand, as though he’d been making notes but had not been happy with what he’d written.
“How are the revisions going?” she asked when he turned in the chair to greet her.
She wasn’t surprised when he sighed and answered, “Not well.”
“What’s the problem?”
He pushed a hand through his dark hair, then looked at that hand as if it still surprised him his hair was so short. Or maybe she was just projecting because it still startled her at times. “I’m not sure, exactly. I’m having trouble figuring out how to handle the transitions between anecdotes. My editor said I need to make the segues smoother.”
“Maybe I can help. Would you like me to read what you have so far?”
He smiled, shook his head and reached out to turn off his computer. “You’ve got enough on your plate already. I’ll dive into it again tomorrow. I’m sure I’ll figure it out. How did your study session go?”
“We got through most of today’s material.”
Lifting an eyebrow, he glanced at his watch. “It’s after ten. It took you that long just to get through one day’s material?”