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  “It’s small. In a year I’ll have access to my entire trust fund, and we’ll get you a diamond so big you won’t be able to carry it around.” He kisses the back of my hand, then holds it against his cheek. “You’re young, baby, I know. Hell, I’m young. But we can do this. We can make this work.”

  “If I’m married to an Astor, I won’t qualify for grants,” I point out.

  “I’m not penniless. We’ll pay for your college. You’re going to be a great doctor,” he assures me.

  “Cardiologist,” I correct him.

  “Yes, I’m sorry,” he says with a chuckle. “Dr. Astor, Cardiologist. My parents are going to love you.”

  I’m not as sure as he is about all of the details. But I am sure of one thing. I am never going to love anyone else, for the rest of my life, the way I love Alexander Astor.

  “Yes,” I say, and nod my head. “Yes.”

  “Yes!” he exclaims, loudly, and leaves kisses over my face and neck. “You’ve made me the happiest man in the world,” he says, before kissing my lips.

  May 2, 2016

  I stride into the hospital, not sure if the headache is from stress, or if I’m still a little hung over. I had a banana for breakfast, and orange juice, and two aspirins. It’s not helping. I’m afraid it might be from Freddie Portland’s last words as I left his limo. “I’ll see you in DC.” I didn’t invite him to DC. Maybe he’s coming here for business or something.

  So I stop at the coffee shop for some caffeine before heading upstairs to my office, and who’s there? None other than Dr. Paul Montgomery. He’s sitting at a table, and reading a newspaper. Who even still does that? As soon as he sees me standing in line, he jumps up to join me.

  “How was your conference, Liv?” he asks, when he’s standing beside me.

  “I’ve asked you not to call me that a million times, Paul. My name is Olivia,” I grind out through gritted teeth.

  “How was your conference, Olivia?” he asks.

  I glance up at him, and I understand exactly why people say ‘don’t have sex with co-workers’. Because of situations like this. I can almost read what he’s thinking. I know what he’s going to ask next before he does.

  “It was fine. I had a good time. I made some new connections.” I try not to smile, but the thought of Frederick, the Duke of Portland, between my thighs yesterday morning comes to mind.

  “Why didn’t you answer my calls?” he asks, with a little too much jealousy. And there’s the question.

  He’s good-looking, sure. He could stand to lose five or ten pounds. His blonde hair is thinning. But he’s still an attractive guy. He was going through a divorce, and I was a little desperate at the time. My last good fuck buddy got tired of waiting for me to settle down, and started seeing someone else. I hate it when that happens.

  Now, Dr. Montgomery wants a relationship. His divorce was literally final two weeks ago, and he’s talking about moving in together. I do not want to play house with his children, and I’ve told him that on several occasions.

  “I’ve lost my desire,” I say, as I take in his appearance. He frowns, and I continue, “For coffee,” before I turn and walk toward the elevator.

  He doesn’t get the message. He follows me. When we’re in the car, he tries to kiss me. I place my hands firmly on his chest, and push.

  “Liv,” he begins, and I shoot him a glare that would warp glass. “Olivia-“ he corrects himself.

  “No, Paul. I’m done. I set out the parameters in the beginning. Sex only. It’s not hard to understand. I don’t want to date. I don’t want to get married. And I definitely don’t want to be a step-mom. How hard is that to understand?” I exit the elevator on the fifth floor, and he does too.

  “Olivia, please, just let me…” he begins. He takes both my hands in his.

  “Paul, no,” I state, firmly.

  He kisses my forehead, and says, “I’m sorry. You’re right. No dating, just sex, okay?”

  I sigh loudly. He’s already ruined it for me.

  “I’m sorry. Just think about it, and call me when you’re ready.” He pushes the button for the elevator, and I turn toward my office. Lingering outside my door, with his phone against his ear, is Lex Astor.

  My heart stops. I’ve seen him, of course, on the television, and on magazine covers. In the media, he’s been anointed the Prince Charming of Manhattan. It’s not only his looks, but also his lineage that earned him the name. His father is Garrison Astor after all, the king of Wall Street himself.

  We’ve even attended the same functions on a few occasions. I always make my excuses to leave early when I see him. Thank God for being a doctor, I can always use the medical emergency excuse.

  I haven’t spoken to him in fifteen years. I’m scared. I can’t think of a time I’ve been this afraid, not since my mom died of a heart attack when I was seventeen. Great, now I have to face him, with a splitting headache and no coffee. He’s standing there staring at me, just like I’m staring at him. I should be walking toward him, toward my office. My feet won’t move.

  I’m wearing my favorite expensive pumps, which are not practical for a hospital setting, and a black dress with a black blazer. I dress this way when I don’t have patients scheduled. Sometimes I dress this way even when I do. I like the way men look at me.

  Except I don’t particularly like the way Lex is looking at me right now. It’s sending chills down my spine. What in the hell does he want?

  I walk toward him, after what must be five minutes of standing in the same spot looking like a total fool. The closer I get, the harder it is. It might be easier to simply turn and run at this point. I’m so close now I can hear him say, “I must go. We’ll talk soon.” He touches the screen of his phone and places it in the pocket of his expensive black dress slacks.

  I am probably three feet from him, and I am speechless. He’s somehow even better looking at thirty nine than he was at twenty four. How do men do that? I don’t see any fine lines or wrinkles on his face. He hasn’t gained a pound. As a matter of fact, his chest and shoulders might have filled out some.

  And his eyes are still that true, leaf green that blows my fucking mind. And he looks angry, and cold, just as angry as he did fifteen years ago.

  “Hello, Liv,” he finally says.

  I exhale slowly, with the realization that I’d been holding my breath since I first saw him. What do I call him? Alexander? Mr. Astor? Lex seems too familiar. “Hello,” I say, and my voice cracks. I clear my throat, and say, “Why are you…”

  Two nurses walk past, and he tilts his head slightly toward me. “Can we talk in your office, please?”

  “Uh,” I mumble, and glance around. Why didn’t I ask him inside? I’m an idiot, that’s why. “Sure. Come on in,” I say. I open the door with the placard that reads, “Dr. Olivia Bell, MD, Cardiologist.” I hold the door open so that he can step into my waiting room. Then I walk toward the office where Ella sits behind a retractable glass panel. She isn’t in yet, which is odd. Or she’s getting a coffee. I hope she gets me one too.

  I turn, suddenly unsure if he’s really there, to find he is there, perhaps a tad too close. I can smell his cologne, and he smells incredible. He’s dressed impeccably in a three piece black suit with a snowy white shirt, and a black and grey tie.

  “My office is through there,” I say, as I walk down a hallway. We pass two exam rooms, my private restroom, and finally we’re at my office. As I swipe my keycard, I again glance back to make sure he’s there. His bright green eyes are staring right at me. Great. This is not awkward at all.

  I motion toward a leather chair, then take the seat behind my desk, and I still can’t speak. I absolutely cannot believe he is in my office.

  As I watch him, every muscle in my body tightens, even those muscles. He’s making it hard to breathe, and think. I feel like a stupid, twenty-one year old girl again, naïve to everything except him. He made me insane. He made me believe in things that I knew in my heart I could never have.r />
  “I realize this is a surprise,” he says, when he sits down across from me. His voice is a little darker, a little huskier. Damn, the man is gorgeous. Just… how in the hell is he still so perfect?

  He’s waiting for me to say something. Damn it. “Yes,” I reply.

  He crosses his legs, and places his hands on his knee. “My mother is having chest pains, and her doctor can’t find anything wrong. Honestly, he thinks she’s faking it to get attention.”

  It’s rare that patients fake pain for attention, but it does happen. And many women are misdiagnosed for heart problems. I nod my head. It’s none of my business.

  “She’s asked me to schedule an appointment with you,” he finishes, and looks away.

  “Me?!” Fuck. I’ve gone fifteen years without having to face him or his family. I was hoping I’d be able to go the rest of my life. “Why?”

  “You’re the best,” he says. My eyes get huge when he says it. “My mother’s doctor says you’re the best cardiologist with a focus on women’s issues.” I gaze at him, unsure of what to say to that. “Congrats, Liv, you’re exactly where you wanted to be.” His voice is cold, and hollow. His eyes are glaring into mine.

  Am I? I wonder as I gaze at him. From what I remember, I am nowhere near where I wanted to be. I wanted to be by his side, in his bed, and raising his children. Where I am is a sad, lonely, loveless place.

  “I’m sure you don’t keep your own schedule. I’ll have my secretary call and schedule an appointment. I just wanted to warn you.”

  He moves to stand, and I stand and walk around my desk. But he sits there, and watches me for a moment. He looks like he wants to say something. He finally stands, and I’m reminded of just how damn big he is, everywhere. His legs are gorgeous, his arms are huge even under the suit, and his fingers are long, and tapered, and perfectly manicured. I try to hold in a shiver as I stare at his hands, remembering exactly how he made me feel with them. But I can’t. I hope he doesn’t notice.

  “Was that your boyfriend?” he asks. I have absolutely no idea what he’s talking about. He was my boyfriend. And for a few days, he was my fiancé. “In the hallway, was he your boyfriend?” I’m still struggling to remember what he’s talking about. His tone changes. He’s frustrated. “The doctor, the blonde haired man, who kissed you earlier, is he your boyfriend?”

  I shake my head. “I don’t have a boyfriend.” It’s true. I don’t have a boyfriend. I haven’t for fifteen years. I have fuck buddies. I have meaningless sex. I will never have another boyfriend again.

  “He kissed you like…” His voice is now approaching angry. He has no reason to be. We were over years ago. We never should have been together in the first place.

  I look up at him, trying to understand what’s behind his tone, and his glittering eyes. But he shakes his head. “Never mind. It was nice seeing you again, Liv.”

  “Yes, you too…” Lex. I want to say it so badly. But I don’t.

  I nod, and just as I’m about to open the door, it’s thrown open.

  Chapter Three

  May 2, 2016

  “Oh, my God, Olivia! I’m so glad you’re finally here. You had the most gorgeous guy stop by to see you. I think it was Alexander Astor, Prince Charming of Manhattan! Do you know him? I mean, did you have sex with him?” Ella is looking right into my eyes, and doesn’t see Lex standing on the other side of the door. She has no idea he’s there, until he clears his throat. Her eyes go up to the ceiling, and she exhales loudly. “He’s in your office, isn’t he?”

  I nod my head slightly, but she’s still too embarrassed to look at me. “Yes.”

  She thrusts one of the cups of coffee she’s holding toward me, but it’s nowhere near me. I take a step toward it, and so does Lex. I think he might be afraid she’ll drop it and it will spill all over him. Our hands slap together, and I swear I feel sparks run up my arm and gather in the base of my neck. I groan, and quickly pull away.

  “I was just leaving,” he says, and quickly walks around me. When Ella hears him, she steps out of the way, and he strides down the hallway.

  We stand just like that for several moments. She purses her lips, and looks everywhere but at me. “Did that just happen?” she finally asks, when I recover enough to take the coffee cup.

  “I’m afraid so,” I reply, with a groan. I move toward my seat behind my desk, and she steps into the room. Ella is a pretty twenty-five year old girl. I call her a girl, but she’s a grown woman, with a partner and a baby. She’s the breadwinner, which is a hard position for a young woman, but she manages it well, most of the time.

  “You had a message this morning, from Freddie Portland.” I shake my head when I hear that. She takes the seat that Lex vacated. “And I thought to myself, although he did have a British accent, that couldn’t possibly be the Duke of Portland.”

  I stare at her without answering. Her brown eyes are always animated. She’s a darling, really. We could not be more opposite. I wasn’t even that spirited when I was her age.

  “And then, I walk into your office, and find Alexander Astor here.” She pauses, and stares at me. “Is this going to be another thing like with the congressman and the Saudi sheik?” I scoff, and take a sip of my coffee. “Because you do remember how that ended, don’t you?” I remember. “The Saudi sheik threatened to kidnap you, and make you one of his wives. That’s what happened.”

  I nod. “He was hot,” I say, with a light sigh. “Too bad he didn’t want to take no for an answer, until the FBI intervened.” I shudder at the thought.

  “But Alexander Astor, he’s like a blazing inferno. The Saudi prince was barely a house fire compared to him,” she states, with a smile as big as her eyes. I really need to work on her similes and metaphors.

  I can’t help but think she’s right, though. He is the hottest guy I’ve ever been with, perhaps the hottest I’ve ever seen. And to think, at one time I thought he could be mine. He dates supermodels. He’s engaged to a pop star.

  “Did I just see Alexander Astor leave your office?” Ryan, my nurse, asks as he steps into the room. When I don’t have patients scheduled, like today, he works as a floor nurse for the hospital cardiology unit. Sometimes he works extra hours over the weekend. He’s not seeing anyone, so he likes the extra money he makes.

  “Yes,” I reply.

  “Are you going to fix his heart?” he asks, and when I glance up at him, he has a little smirk on his face.

  “There’s nothing wrong with…” I begin.

  But Ella interrupts me. “He knows her personally. He approached my window, looking as hot as sin, and said, ‘Is Liv available?’ Ryan chuckles at that. “Liv! No one calls Dr. Bell Liv!” Ella exclaims, exasperated.

  “I know, right! They must know each other!” Ryan replies, just as excitedly. I might as well not even be sitting here. “I wonder if he’s one of her…” He becomes silent, and they both steal a sly glance at me. I give each of them a cool glare.

  “The Duke of Portland called for her today, and asked if she was free for lunch. The Duke of Portland! The hot British pharmaceuticals billionaire called Liv!” Ella laughs.

  Like it’s funny that I can bag a duke? Puh-lease!

  “Yes, like he can just call up Dr. Olivia Bell, and be all like, ‘Hey, girl, wanna go out?’ And she’s like, ‘Sure I’m not doing anything today!’” They both get a kick out of that for some reason.

  “I mean, she didn’t even give him her cell number? Like that doesn’t scream uninterested.” Thankfully they’re both winding down a little now. Ella isn’t as animated, and Ryan isn’t as loud.

  “Who would look twice at that ginger Brit, when Alexander Astor is waiting in the wings?”

  They both finally become silent, and turn toward me. I take a sip of my coffee, and murmur, “Are you both quite finished?”

  “Yep, for now,” Ella says with a nod of her dark head.

  “I mean, Alexander Astor,” Ryan shrugs. “Hey, I came by to see if you need a date for th
at thing tonight,” he says.

  I shrug. “I don’t remember what you’re talking about.”

  “I guess you don’t remember knowing Alexander Astor, either,” Ryan snaps. I roll my eyes. I am now exasperated. “I had my black suit cleaned and pressed for this.”

  “It’s the final planning committee meeting for the Art Gala, which is in less than three weeks,” Ella supplies, after she pulls out her phone and checks my schedule. “Saturday the twenty-first.”

  “Do I have to dress up for that?” Ryan usually knows the answers to these questions.

  “You look very nice in your black suit. Just don’t spill anything on it at lunch with your duke,” he quips, as he turns to leave. Ella joins him.

  “I don’t see anyone else in this office getting asked out by dukes!” I call out. They both giggle, and I hear whispers, but neither of them return. So I guess I’m going out somewhere this evening, with Ryan.

  I enjoy going out with Ryan, and he loves going out with me, for some weird reason. I don’t know if it’s because I pay when we go out, or because I let him drive my sports car. Or maybe he just uses these functions to find good looking gay doctors, or something. I don’t mind him using me. I hate going to these things alone.

  And before I forget about it, I call Ella and ask, “Could you get in touch with Dr. Phillips? I probably need a round of antibiotics. I’m not sure if the duke used a condom. I was pretty drunk.”

  I hear the chuckle in her voice as she replies, “Will do, Olivia.”

  It’s not the first time we’ve had that little conversation.

  *****

  We’re listening to upbeat 80’s music on the amazing sound system of my Corvette convertible. Ryan’s driving, and I’m chillin’ in the passenger side, singing along off key to I wear my sunglasses at night with the top down. It might be a little on the cool side to have the convertible open, but neither of us care. We’re just jamming, and having a blast.