When he was halfway to his locker room, he spotted Charlie Heeney sitting on one of the brown standard-issued couches.
“Mr. Heeney?”
“Dr. Hart,” Charlie said, rising slowly to his feet.
“Why are you here? Is it Eileen? No one paged me.”
“The nurse told us you were in surgery and Mrs. Heeney wasn’t of a mind to worry you. Yesterday her chest was paining her and she didn’t say a word, but this morning, after she had her coffee, she felt a twinge and I told her we were coming here straight away. No arguments, no complaints.” He heaved a tired sigh. “Apparently it was nothing but last night’s stew.”
“I could take a look,” Tyler offered, but Charlie held up a hand.
“No need to bother with bad stew. Go be with your lady friend.”
“I will. Page me if it happens again.”
Charlie smiled. “It won’t. Tomorrow my daughter is cooking for us.” He patted his chest. “She goes easier on the garlic than Mrs. Heeney.”
After he’d changed into a clean suit, Tyler got a page, sending him to the pavilion. He frowned, not sure why someone would want him there. The pavilion was a large room with three separate cafeteria areas, a lounge area on the far side of the room with stuffed chairs and newspapers and several flat-screen televisions worthy of a sports bar. Back in the corner, Tyler spied a cowboy hat and shook his head.
God, New Yorkers really needed to learn something.
The hat turned, and Tyler spotted the familiar face underneath the hat.
Austen.
Cheerfully Austen waved, and Tyler glowered in return. If he were a colder man, he would abandon his brother, but right then, Tyler was more concerned about the innocent medical staff at St. Agnes. His brother had three women surrounding him, three women who had no idea of the damage that Austen Hart could do.
No, Tyler would need to save them.
Damn it.
“Hello, Austen.”
Austen jumped up and slapped him on the back like long-lost family.
“Ladies, this is the famous Dr. Tyler Hart. He’s the one I’ve been telling you about. Ty, say hello to your fans.”
Famous?
Tyler shot Austen a dark look and then managed a half smile for the women. “I’m just out of surgery, and haven’t seen my brother in a few weeks, so you’ll have to pardon us for a few minutes.”
Quickly Tyler shoved his brother down in his chair and then took an open seat across from him, since the ones immediately adjacent were occupied by Emma Sanderson, a nurse in pink scrubs, and another woman in a business suit.
“Isn’t he modest?” Austen said with a grin, but the women stood up, about to leave them to blessed privacy, where Tyler could castrate his brother without witnesses.
As Sanderson was about to leave, Austen caught her by the arm. “Emma, we’re still on for tonight? You and Julie? Tyler needs a night out to lift his spirits. Look at that face.” Austen pointed at Tyler. “He needs something to cheer him up.”
After the women left, Tyler rounded on his brother.
“What the hell was that about?”
“We have a double date for tonight. Nurse Sanderson was fascinated by your sabbatical to Kenya, and Nurse Goodnight liked the scar on my neck. I thought you’d be happy that I didn’t stick you with the shallow one.”
Tyler shoved his hand through his hair. “What if I don’t want to go on a date?”
“After I went to all this work to help you out?” Austen told him, looking hurt and betrayed.
“What work?” asked Tyler, not fooled by the acting skills of a lobbyist. “It probably took you all of an hour.”
“Fifteen minutes. You can thank me later. It’ll be fun.”
Austen flicked at finger at the brim of his hat, much like a man who wore a hat every day. Austen did not wear a cowboy hat every day, but he knew enough to fool people. Much like he fooled women into believing that he understood them, much like he fooled women into believing that he was actually responding to their deeply hidden emotional truths. Sometimes Tyler really wanted to punch his brother, but then he’d probably break a bone, and Tyler would have to fix it because Austen would expect it, and Tyler was responsible. It would only be one more thing that Austen could hold over Tyler’s head.
“Sure, you’ll hate it,” Austen said, “and you hate spinach, too, but you know it’s good for you, so you force yourself to eat it, and look at spinach now. People are sticking it in everything and calling it fancy names. Think of tonight as spinach.”
For a second Tyler closed his eyes, hoping this was a bad dream, but no, when he opened his eyes, Austen was still there. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”
“I did.”
“No, you didn’t. I told you I didn’t want you here. That’s how we left it.”
“You sounded so confused on the phone, I knew I had to do something. If you hadn’t hung up on me, you would have heard me tell you that I needed a break. The legislature’s out of session, and the Capitol’s too quiet. Damn, Tyler. You can’t handle this city all by yourself.”
“I’ve been doing very well, thank you.”
“Losing your girlfriend and picking up strange women. You call that good? I think it’s Brooke, and I think it’s got you all messed up.”
“
Well.
I said
well
.”
“Well. Good. Whatever. I’m here.”
“For how long?”
“Two weeks.”
Two weeks was doable, and normally, Tyler enjoyed his brother’s company. But he was already at the end of his rope between the hospital and Edie. Now he’d have to deal with Austen, too? And Brooke. Oh, yes, Austen would want to see Brooke. “I’m really busy. This endowment is important to me.”
“Emma says that Max Lockwood is here.” Austen looked at Tyler knowingly.
“Who?” asked Tyler, pretending ignorance.
“Max Lockwood,” repeated Austen, and he then proceeded to rattle off every libelous name that Tyler had ever used in reference to Max, some alluding to poor medical skills, some questioning his sexual orientation and some referencing his mother’s sexual relations with various members of the animal kingdom.
Tyler, who was not usually a squinter, squinted, mostly as a guise to feign confusion and befuddlement. Austen, who spent his life feigning confusion and befuddlement, was not fooled. “Is that what this is about? Some twenty-year-old grudge? That’s why you’re here in New York?”
“I’m furthering the advancement of medical science!”
Austen rubbed his eyes and then swore. “At least go out tonight. If not for me, think of the women. Do you really want to disappointment a lady, Tyler? I don’t think so. You’d castrate yourself first.”
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
“It’s work,” he lied.
“No it’s not. Dr. Keating is flying to Boca. There is no ‘work’ scheduled.”
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
“I have other plans.”
“What sort of other plans? You don’t make other plans?”
“I have plans.”
Austen peered closer, his hat low over perceptive, beady eyes. “It’s a female.”
“She’s a female,” Tyler admitted.
“Who’s the female?”
“No one.”
“Some one is a female. Is this the ‘odd phone call’ female? Did you feel guilty for your harsh treatment of her and now you’ve got a pity date because you can’t handle the pressure? If that’s it, I can get you off the hook. Disappointing females is my reason for being on this planet.”
It was at this point that Tyler knew his brother would not give up. Austen was too stubborn, and although Tyler would never admit it aloud, he knew Austen was worried about him. “It’s a date. It’s not a pity date, and I’m not breaking it.”
“Cynthia?”
“No.”
“Who?”
“Not Cynthia.”
“Who?”
“Her name is Edie Higgins. You would like her.” Austen would be all over drunken karaoke, he’d go bowling without an argument and he’d love to see Tyler sweat in embarrassment. Yes, Edie and Austen had much in common. At that, Tyler smiled. It was probably the reason he liked Edie so much.
“If I would like her, why are you taking her out?”
“I like her, too.”
“Like, as in ‘I like free beer,’ or like, as in ‘I like women to blow me,’ like.”
Tyler remained silent, and Austen leaned back against the seat and released a slow breath. “Holy…” And then: “I want to meet her.”
“No.”
“I want to meet her, or else I’m going to think she’s some hospital groupie who’s trying to get her hooks into you since you’re heartbroken and on the rebound, and aren’t thinking straight.”
Austen grinned and Tyler knew that look. It was how Tyler ended up losing his virginity to Mrs. Porter at the age of fourteen. It was the reason he got suspended for smuggling a dissected pig into the high school cafeteria serving line. Tyler hated that look.
“Maybe,” Tyler hedged.
Austen whistled. “Holy…”
“Stop.”
“Okay. Let’s go see Brooke,” suggested Austen.
“No.”
His brother slung an arm over the back of the couch. “I’m here. You’re here. She’s here. It’s kismet.”
“You flew on an airplane. I’m here for work. She lives here. There is no kismet.”
“God, you’re such buzz-kill. So what time’s the hot date?”
“Eight.”
“Well, come on then, time’s a wasting. That’s three hours of drinking that we get to do.”
“I’m not getting drunk.”
“Of course not,” Austen said with a grin. “But first, we need to get you a cowboy hat.”
Just as she was sliding her feet into her shoes, the buzzer rang. Eight-forty-five? Not too bad, she told herself. And he was a surgeon, after all. Probably been out saving important lives. Maybe the Pope or something. In fact, Edie was so calm and collected that she even answered her door with a smile on her face. Yes, she could be perky and happy and cheerful.
Until she saw him. Slowly her smile dimmed.
There was Tyler. Snockered was the official term for it. His tie was charmingly loose. His hair was artfully mussed, and he leaned in her doorway, swaying only slightly.
Wearing a cowboy hat.
“Eeeedie,” he said, as he stumbled in her general direction, wrapping his arms around her, and cupping her ass. “Glutumus. Maximumus. Lusciousus.”
A cute and frisky drunk. She wanted to be furious at him, but he was so appealing, all that unbuttoned sincerity and partially upright virtue.
Snockered. In a cowboy hat.
“Tipsius much?” she asked, guiding him in the direction of her couch, watching as he took off the hat and tossed it Frisbee-style across the room where it hit a lamp.
The lamp would have to wait.
“It was never Austen’s fault. Always mine,” he explained, putting his head on her shoulder and his hand on her breast.
“Austen?”
“Bastard brother.”
“He’s here?”
“Not here.”
“Then why is this Austen’s fault?” she said, enunciating carefully, but she suspected it was too late because Tyler’s eyes were starting to close.
“It was always Austen’s fault,” he muttered, his breathing starting to slow.
Carefully she eased away from him, but he held tight, curling into her, one hand firmly on her boob. Yes, Tyler Hart hid it well, but he was just as much a guy as the next dude.
But Edie didn’t mind. In fact, she kind of liked him this way, all human and needy. No, she didn’t mind at all, she thought as she pulled the throw from the back of her couch and settled them in for the night. She closed her eyes, listening to the quiet sounds of his breathing noting the quiet flutters in her heart.
The next morning, sunshine hit her eyes and she looked around for Tyler, but he had already gone, leaving only a note: