The Jackson family was a pillar in the Ann Arbor area. His father and grandfather had perfected the art of philanthropy and had spent countless hours and dollars building up the family name. Drake’s dad had moved to Las Vegas for work, and had honed his reputation in the health care field, having privileges in several Vegas area hospitals.
When Drake graduated from high school, his father decided to move back to Ann Arbor, even though he was rarely in town.
“Actually, I suggested that he get out of his feelings and reinstate you to your rightful place on the surgical resident team,” his father told him. “I will not have him jeopardizing your career over this unfortunate mistake.”
The word mistake lodged in Drake’s head. The thought that his father considered Love a mistake made him want to smack him. “Don’t call her that. She’s not a mistake.”
“I didn’t call her a mistake.” His father checked his watch. “There is a fund-raising event next week. They are honoring me with an award. You are expected to attend.”
There it was. The real reason for his visit. “I can’t be there,” Drake told him.
“You will be there. It’s not a request. On Monday, Leon wants to meet us for lunch. I told him you’d be there, as well. Get out of your feelings, and do what you need to do to get to where you want to be. Listen, I wasn’t particularly happy when you defied my wishes, but you are still better than any of those incompetent residents in the general surgery program. You have a fellowship to win at Johns Hopkins, and intubating patients and performing appendectomies won’t cut it.”
Drake scanned the area, catching a few curious glances from others. “I have to go.”
“To dinner with me,” his father said smoothly. “I have a late flight and we have business to discuss.”
The man strolled toward the elevators, winking at a nurse and giving a curt nod to another doctor, before turning expectantly to Drake.
Reluctantly, Drake followed him, sending Love a quick text, letting her know he’d see her at home later.
CHAPTER 11
Love rubbed her eyes and craned her neck toward the sound of her blaring phone. Frowning, she reached over to the nightstand to answer it. Only it wasn’t there. The ringing continued. She opened an eye and noticed the flashing light coming from her open purse, in the chair. Damn.
She silently prayed that whoever was calling wasn’t dying, because she had no intention of getting out of bed to answer it. Jumping, she pitched a pillow toward the offensive sound and covered her face with another one.
When the ringing stopped, she thanked God and pulled the comforter over her head. Unfortunately, the caller was persistent, and the phone sounded again. Love rolled out of bed and landed on her butt. Growling, she crawled over to her purse, dumped the contents on the floor and grabbed the phone. “What?” she yelled.
“Lovely Grace Washington!”
Oh, my God. “Hello? Hello?” She pushed the end button and hung up on her father. More than likely he wouldn’t fall for the lost signal excuse she was about to give him, but she wasn’t prepared to talk to him, especially after their last conversation. She needed to gather her thoughts.
She glanced at the mound of folded blankets on the small love seat at the far end the room. Drake wasn’t home yet and it was—she glanced at the clock—11:00 p.m. Earlier that evening he had canceled their dinner with a simple text and nothing else. Now awake, she tiptoed down the stairs to the living room, then the kitchen, hoping she wouldn’t wake her mother who was in the downstairs bedroom. No Drake.
Where the hell is he?
Love hurried to the bathroom and turned on the shower. She’d fallen asleep waiting for Drake, and now she was concerned that he hadn’t called. After trying his cell a few times, and getting his voice mail, she decided to go to the hospital to see if he was there.
Stepping into the hot shower, she moaned. The water felt so good against her weary skin, but she had to make it quick. Her father was bound to call back any minute and she had no choice but to talk to him.
Once she finished, she stepped out and wrapped a huge bath sheet around her. Turning to the mirror, she wiped the condensation off and ran a comb through her hair.
“Love?” Drake called from the other side of the door.
She flung it open. “You’re here.”
He swept his gaze over her body, then turned away. “What are you doing up?”
She grabbed his arm and drew him back. “I was going to head to the hospital to find you. My father called. I hung up on him.”
“You what?”
“Where were you? I tried to call you a few times.”