What She Really Wants for Christmas

“No,” she said curtly, and then took a furtive look around before staring back down at her lap.

Only the couple at the next table had noticed, and they’d already restarted their conversation.

Evan just watched her swipe at her jeans with an angry frustration that went well beyond a spilled drink. She bit her lower lip so hard he wouldn’t be surprised if she drew blood. He wanted to help, to at least say something comforting or funny to distract her, but he knew better. He had this really strong and unexpected feeling that Liza needed to battle her own demons.

T HIS WAS SO STUPID. She wasn’t about to dry her jeans this way, but she didn’t want to meet Evan’s eyes. Bet he was sorry that he’d asked her out. Served him right. What had he expected?

“Excuse me,” she said finally. “I need to go to the restroom and take care of this.”

She only briefly looked at him as she slid out of her seat. There was no pity in his eyes, not even curiosity. In fact, she didn’t know what to make of his bland expression.

“Shall I order you another drink?” he asked calmly.

“No, thanks,” she murmured, and gave him her back as she blindly searched for the ladies’ room.

It had to be in one of the corners, and it was the second place she looked. She didn’t give a damn about her jeans and went straight to the sink. She turned on the faucet and splashed her face with cold water. At the last moment she remembered that she’d actually applied a little makeup before coming out. Too late now.

Didn’t matter, though. Unlikely she’d see Evan again. He probably couldn’t wait to finish his drink and get rid of her. She wouldn’t be surprised if he’d already paid the bill. Ironically, she’d enjoyed being with him. He wasn’t as stuffy as she’d expected him to be. Still not her type, but he’d been pleasant company. Didn’t take her crap, either. Always a refreshing discovery.

The problem was, she hadn’t found out anything about the lawsuit. She knew damn well people gossiped around there, especially in the coffee room. Evan wasn’t the type to participate, but he still might’ve heard something useful.

Staring at her reflection in the mirror, she cringed at the dark circles under her eyes. A couple of years away from the big 3-0 and she already had pronounced crow’s-feet at the corners of her eyes. Her skin was too pale, and now that she’d washed off the tinted moisturizer, she really looked like hell.

She pushed the hair away from her face and, as she’d seen her mother do a hundred times, a zillion years ago, Liza pinched her cheeks to give them some color. She didn’t do a very good job because the right side looked more like a bad mosquito bite. Great.

She grabbed a couple of paper towels and blotted her jeans, and then washed the stickiness off her hands. If Evan hadn’t already bolted, she’d come right out and ask him what he’d heard about the lawsuit. All he could do was tell her to get lost. But she doubted he’d do that. He was too much of a gentleman. And damn it, she liked that.

3

L IZA’ S HEART DID A funny little hop as she approached the table, and he smiled. His hair was too short for her taste, but he had great eyes, the perfect shade of whiskey-brown, and a square jaw with a dimple in the center of his chin that she found terribly appealing. That he had some stubble and wasn’t clean-shaven, as usual, was right up her alley.

The table had been cleaned off and her empty glass had been replaced with another tequila sunrise. She reclaimed her seat and noticed that he was also on his second beer. Guess he wasn’t going to run screaming from the room.

“Trust me with another drink, I see.” She decided not to point out that she’d said she didn’t want another.

“I asked for a lid but they didn’t have one.”

She smiled in spite of herself. Either she was really starved for male company or Evan was truly turning out to be less stodgy than she’d perceived him.

“What kind of doctor are you?” she asked, genuinely interested.

“An internist.”

“How did you get the consulting gig for Heartbeat?”

“The producer is an old frat brother of mine.”

“From med school?”

He chuckled. “Undergraduate. You don’t have time for a fraternity in med school. Between working and studying I was lucky to get four hours of sleep a night.”

“Here I thought you were one of those rich kids who had a trust fund.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Seriously, I did. You seem the preppy type.”

“Bad assumption. I just finally paid off my student loans, thanks to the consulting job.”

“I still have ten thousand outstanding myself.” Liza had no idea why she’d offered the information. It galled her to know that part of her inheritance had been used to buy Rick’s bike instead of making her debt-free.

“That’s not bad.”

“I guess not. Though I don’t like to owe any money.”

“Me, too. My parents scraped together every penny to pay down their mortgage. The day they made their last payment they had a huge barbecue in the backyard and invited all the relatives and neighbors.”

Liza smiled at the fondness in his voice. “You have a big family?”

“Two brothers. Lots of cousins, most of whom live here in Atlanta. How about you?”

“No siblings. Except Eve and Jane. They’re like—” She cut herself off, horrified at what she’d revealed. It was Evan’s fault. He was just too damn easy to talk to.

He looked clearly curious, but graciously filled the conversation gap. “My father is retiring in three months. He and Mom are thinking about buying a small condo in Florida but they’re not sure where. You’re from Jacksonville, aren’t you?”

“I was a kid when I lived there, and then I left after college.” She quickly picked up her drink and took a cooling sip. She didn’t like this warm squishy feeling of gratitude. Evan didn’t need information on Florida. He could’ve asked her all kinds of awkward questions. Not that she’d have answered, but still.

“Are your parents living there—in Jacksonville?”

“My dad died last year. My mom is there.”

She didn’t know where exactly, but that wasn’t something she’d share. Besides, with his background, he wouldn’t understand what it was like growing up with an alcoholic and a pill-popper.

“I’m sorry about your father.”

“Yeah. Guess it was his time.” She looked away so she wouldn’t see the revulsion on Evan’s face. She hadn’t meant to sound so callous, but a life of hard drinking never ended well. When she finally looked at Evan again, he smiled kindly. It annoyed her. Why was he so nice? What the hell did he want from her? She didn’t deserve his kindness. Or anyone else’s. Didn’t he understand that?

“You getting hungry?”

“Why?”

“Well,” he said slowly, the corners of his mouth twitching, “it’s approaching the dinner hour and traditionally people eat a meal at that time.”

“I’m not traditional.”

“True.” He loosened the knot on his tie. “That’s what I like about you.”

“Hmm.” She couldn’t come up with anything witty to say. She was too busy watching his long fingers work, and noticing the smattering of hair across the back of his hands. His skin was tan and more rugged-looking than she’d expect of a doctor. Probably belonged to a golf or tennis club.