The Truth About Elyssa

Something didn’t fit. Elyssa was beautiful, brainy, articulate and in his nonprofessional opinion, a woman who’d been headed straight for the top, reporting from the White House or the international scene. Why had she changed careers? And why especially had she chosen to play a clown?

Clearly, she got along well with kids. Why hadn’t she gone into, say, child psychology? He’d watched her long enough last week to notice her self-assured manner with the staff, and he sure hadn’t missed the confident way she walked. Yes, she belonged on some professional fast track. “Where did you go to college?” he asked.

“Northwestern.”

“That’s a tough school.” You didn’t get into Northwestern with mediocre grades or stay without high ambitions. “Then why a birthday party business?” he asked.

“Why not?” she said coolly.

“I picture you making your mark in network TV.”

The long fake lashes she wore veiled her eyes, but he heard the edge in her voice when she answered. “I tried that route.”

No trespassing, he thought but plunged on anyway. “And?”

“And I decided I needed a change.” She raised her eyes, and now he saw the harsh glint of anger. “What are you,” she asked, “a cop? I feel like I’m being interrogated.”

“Hey, I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to pry.” Though in truth, he had. He was silent. Then with a grin he suggested, “Let’s talk about me.”

She stared at him with a startled expression for a minute, then laughed. “This time I get to be the cop.”

“Shoot.”

“Ohh, bad pun,” she chided. “Where did you go to school?”

“University of Pennsylvania for undergrad, and Harvard Medical School.”

“Ivy League,” she said, tapping a finger on the table. “Why’d you choose medicine?”

“It’s a challenge. And I like doing hands-on work.”

“Why cancer?”

It still hurt to say the words. “My cousin Aaron died of leukemia when he was eleven.”

Her eyes filled with sympathy. “That must have been terrible for you.”

He nodded. “He was my best friend.”

“You’d have been lonely…and scared.”

He’d been devastated. To his surprise Elyssa understood.

She propped her chin on her hand. “And so you became a dragon slayer.”

No one had ever put it quite that way, but she was right. Cancer was a beast, and every day he tried his damnedest to defeat it. How had she recognized so easily what he’d struggled to articulate and never could? Amazed, he stared into her eyes. Eyes that seemed to see straight into his soul.

He wanted to touch her, make the connection he felt tangible. But he didn’t, and the moment passed.

“Did you ever consider any other career?” she asked.

“When I was seven I wanted to be a pilot. At four, I considered becoming a trash collector but gave up on that.”

“Wise decision.”

Her eyes glowed with interest, he noted. She’d done this before in her work as a reporter, and she enjoyed it. Move over, Barbara Walters, he thought. But she wasn’t Barbara Walters anymore, he reminded himself, and again wondered why.

“What do you want to be doing in ten years?” she asked.

“Still working in the field I’m in and making the new hospital the best damn pediatric cancer facility in the country.”

“Any personal aspirations outside your career?” she asked.

Once he’d have answered yes. He’d have said he wanted marriage, a family. Not anymore. “Not at the moment.”

“I suppose, with the new hospital almost underway, your life is full enough,” she said.

It had been once. Remorse, as familiar as his breath, washed over him. But he’d had plenty of practice in hiding his emotions, so he nodded, then smiled at her. “When we open, you can be our resident clown.”

“You’ve got yourself a deal, Dr. Cameron.”

“Call me Brett, since we’ll be working together.”

“All right…Brett.” She gave him the gift of a smile, and they continued talking. He hadn’t spent an hour like this in a long time, relaxing and enjoying the company of a charming woman.

They’d do it again. Somewhere quiet and elegant with good food and wine and soft music playing in the background. Then they’d take the next step.

Not that he was in the market for anything serious. Just a light, carefree relationship with pleasant evenings, leading to even more pleasant nights. No strings.

When they went upstairs so Elyssa could get her things, he asked. “What’s the plan for next Tuesday?”

Violet eyes sparkled. “Magic.”

“Sounds intriguing. Will you tell me about it afterward?”

She hesitated long enough for him to think he’d scared her off again, but to his relief she said, “Sure.”

When she left, he read charts, then his pager sounded. One of his patients had been rushed in and was in the E.R., barely clinging to life. Adrenaline flowing, he dashed out of his office, bypassed the notoriously slow elevators and took the stairs.

Three hours later, with the youngster finally stabilized and the parents’ fears calmed as much as possible, he grabbed a cup of coffee in the doctors’ lounge. With luck, the caffeine would keep him awake long enough to drive home, where he could snatch a few hours sleep. A message on his voice mail informed him that he was due at a meeting of department heads at 7:00 a.m. He could crash here, but he preferred a shower and his own bed.

He found he didn’t need the caffeine buzz. Thoughts of Elyssa—her voice, that sassy walk, that wildly arousing perfume—kept him up even after he fell, naked and still damp from the shower, into his bed.

He was a damn fool. Slaying dragons, as Elyssa had put it, drained every ounce of his energy, claimed every moment of his time. Especially now, with the groundbreaking for the new hospital building only weeks away. He had no business starting even a superficial relationship, provided Elyssa wanted one. And judging from her response to his dinner invitation, she didn’t.

Best to forget it, he thought as he drifted into sleep at last. They’d both…be…better off….

“Dinner?”