The Alphabet of Love Ch. 04

Chapter Four

I got back to Seattle just after six. Before I went home I stopped at the gas station close to my house to fill up the car for the week and grab a couple of cold drinks. I'd just belted myself back in when I heard my phone going off in my purse. The car was still parked, so I took my foot off the brake and dug the phone out.

Trevor.

I took a deep breath before I answered. "Hello?" He didn't know I'd attached his name to the number. I might have no idea it was him, as far as he knew.

"Hi Shiloh," he said in his warm, friendly voice. "It's Trevor. I'm sorry to bother you. Are you busy?"

"I just got back into town," I said.

"Have you had dinner?"

I hadn't but if I told him the truth it would be the opening he was looking for. But what would it hurt for us to go out? No! I couldn't let myself fall again.

"I had a long drive," I said.

"How far is it?" he asked.

"Three hours or so," I exaggerated a bit.

"I see. I actually have a few hours free before tomorrow, I thought we might get something to eat and talk. But I understand if you're too tired."

Talk. Well, now, would that be so bad? But I couldn't give in so easily.

"I'm not sure what we have to talk about," I told him.

"I can't explain it but - I'm very attracted to you. I know we're professionals and we have to keep things that way as long as we're working together. I'd just like a chance to talk with you, see how you feel, tell you some things about myself and my marriage."

He'd piqued my curiosity, that was for sure. I kept reminding myself that we'd only met two days ago. At the same time, if we got everything out in the open right now, maybe I wouldn't waste my time falling in love and getting hurt yet again. I could give him the boot before I committed any more stupid acts for love. Or what I thought was love.

"I am hungry," I said cautiously.

"Where do you live?"

"Normandy Park."

"I'm in Des Moines," he named a city just a few miles south. "I could drive up there if that's okay. Is there a good restaurant?"

"I know a few. I could meet you. There's one, Bridger Pete's, that's pretty good. It's on the waterfront. Seafood."

"That sounds perfect," he said. "Can you text me the address?"

"Sure. I could meet you there in, say, an hour? I need to get home and check on my cat."

"Oh, of course. If you need a little longer, I'll wait."

He was too damned agreeable. "All right," I said. "I'll see you there."

Before I pulled out of the gas station I looked up Bridger Pete's on my phone and sent a link to him. Ten minutes later I'd lugged my weekend gear up to my apartment and unlocked the door. I heard the familiar sound of Faldo jumping off the window ledge just as I turned on the light.

"Hey," I greeted him.

He wound around my legs, which used to make me think he liked me. But no. He only wanted to be fed fresh food. He still had plenty of dry food and water, but I cracked open a can of wet food for him before I headed to the bedroom for a quick wardrobe change and a little makeup.

Since I'd been away all weekend, the pile of clothes in my bedroom hadn't got washed. That would be my project tomorrow night, I knew. I had several lab jackets but all but one was dirty now. I had to get them clean and neat for the rest of my work week. I slid off my jeans and casual knit top and wriggled into a cute cotton dress with a light, colorful print, and paired it with a summer weight cardigan sweater. The dress featured a low neckline to which I added a striking, bold necklace. A swipe of lipstick and dust of powder across my cheeks, and I was ready to go.

Bridger Pete's was only about fifteen minutes from my place. I didn't want to be too early, but I believed it was rude to show up late. So I pulled into the parking lot on time, just as I saw Trevor getting out of a dark blue Subaru. The sun was setting; we'd have a great view of the Sound if we snagged a window table. He hadn't seen me, so I grabbed my purse and rushed to catch up to him.

"Hi," I said, out of breath as I drew up to him.

"Oh, hey," he stopped, smiled, and put his hand out to me.

I took it; and we stood there looking at each other for a moment. He was even better looking in casual clothes than in his doctor whites. His hair expertly tousled, he wore a light long-sleeved Nike pullover and jeans. He couldn't help smiling as he looked me up and down, his gaze resting a split second longer on my cleavage than anywhere else.

"You look beautiful," he said, keeping hold of my hand. I didn't resist.

Inside, I asked for a window table. Sunday night, the place wasn't all that busy. We only had to wait ten minutes. Trevor continued smiling at me.

"How's our patient?" I asked him.

He nodded. "Saw him this morning. He's having a lot of pain, even though he's on bed rest. We're taking another look at it in the morning and deciding what we'll do to fix it. "

"You and Godfrey?" I named the orthopedic surgeon overseeing Trevor on this case.

"Yes."

"So what happened? He fell at home? Didn't he go home with a walker or a cane?"

"He did, but he caught it on a throw rug and toppled over. His wife was in the kitchen making dinner so she wasn't there to catch him."

I shook my head. "Damn, that sucks. He's such a tough old guy. I hope you can make this right for him."

"Of course we will. I promise."

I looked into his eyes.

"Your table is ready," the hostess announced, picking up menus from a table and leading us toward the window seats.

We ordered drinks and she left us to peruse the menu.

"So you have a cat?" he asked me.

"Yes. He's a useless lump of fur but I can't get rid of him."

He laughed. "I like cats. We had a couple when I was a kid, but I haven't had one for years. So, what's good here?"

"Everything I've had here has been good," I told him, reviewing the seafood selections. "I'm leaning toward the crab."

"I think I might try the halibut."

Those decisions made, we put down the menus and looked at each other.

"Look," he said, running his fingers over the cold glass of water in front of him, "I hope you don't think I'm just looking for something cheap and sleazy. If I wanted that, I could be with different women anytime. I'm not like that."

I sipped water and listened.

"Yeah, I shagged a lot when I was young. No attachments, no commitments. I think if I'd met the right person back then I'd have known it. Somehow I thought Amanda was the right person but I know now I made a mistake."

Oh, here it came. I steeled myself.

The waitress arrived with our drinks and to take our orders. I gratefully pulled the Old Fashioned close and took a generous sip.

He took a deep breath. "Some of my attraction to her was the novelty. She'd never been with a man before."

"Huh?" I said stupidly.

"She'd been a lesbian all her life. When we met, it really kind of freaked her out, she thought she knew who she was. She had to come to terms with being bisexual."

Holy shit, I thought.

"And I agreed to let her . . . explore even after we got married."

"Oh, so she's been cheating on you then?" I asked, hopeful. I'd feel a lot better about wanting to fuck him if I knew his wife had been unfaithful.

But he shook his head. "Not exactly. We, um, did it together. She brought other women into our relationship. I know now she did it to make me think she wasn't cheating on me, because what guy wouldn't want two women at once, right?"

I sat there with my mouth open. In all my promiscuous behaviors, I'd never entertained the idea of multiple sex partners.

"Sorry," he apologized. "I don't mean to shock you."

"It's just - well, I mean, I've had experiences but nothing like that."

"I thought it was cool at the time, I thought I was being open-minded and supportive and all that. But I knew all along that it wouldn't last, that I wouldn't want to be doing that if we were going to have a family. You know?"

I nodded, though I wasn't sure what he was leading up to.

"I don't want to make it sound like we did this all the time," he said. "But it seemed to be - she got more, uh, interested in sex when we had someone else."

"Another woman."

"Yeah. So I asked her about it and she denied it, and then I said I didn't want to do it anymore and she blew her stack."

"Uh oh." I kept my remarks short, though there was plenty going on in my head.

"But it's not just that. She's been talking to this guy, she went to college with him, he's working for a Senator she used to work for. Bob Gaduzio, I don't know if you've heard of him. He's announced he's running for President."

I nodded; the name was vaguely familiar to me. "You think she's got feelings for this guy?" I asked.

"They sure talk a lot. She tells me she's pumping him for details that she can give my Dad, because he'll run as a Democrat against Gaduzio if he gets in the race. But I think, why would you waste your time getting dirt on the guy when my Dad hasn't even totally decided?"

I had to agree with him, it did sound odd.

"I just don't know anymore," he shook his head, taking a sip of his drink. "We don't really talk about anything. She tries to talk politics with me and my eyes glaze over. I try to tell her what I'm doing and she's not really into it. I feel like I'm living with a stranger."

"Whenever you even see her," I added.

"There's that, too," he agreed. "We're together so seldom we can't even talk about this. I've tried, but she just blows me off, says everything is fine, she loves me. But it doesn't feel like it."

My heart wanted to sympathize, but my brain screamed at me that there are two sides to every story. What were his failings as a man, as a husband? Too docile? Not supportive of his wife's career? So boring in bed that she reverted to her lesbian ways?

Before either of us could speak again, our dinners arrived. The fragrant odors and lovely presentation made me forget all about my misgivings of Trevor. Food mattered now. Glorious, sumptuous food.

"Wow," he said after the first couple of bites. "This is fabulous."

"I know, right?" I mumbled through my crab.

He shook his head. "I'm sorry to dump all this on you. I just - I want you to know the situation with my marriage. I'm not a bad husband, or at least I don't think I am. I hope I'm not. I've given it my all. I don't want to fail at marriage. But I don't want to stay in it if it's not making either of us happy."

"Understandable," I said. I watched him eat, and realized that as gross as eating really was, Trevor did not disgust me. He'd been brought up with table manners. I had to admit there was as much chance that he was telling me the truth as that he was lying. And why would he lie? He didn't even know me. He could get women by snapping his fingers, with his looks. He struck me as lonely, looking for the person to spend the rest of his life with. For some reason, he thought I might be that person. Or he saw something about me that made him want to find out.

I could tell he was waiting for me to ask him questions or comment on what he'd revealed. I took my time. Finally, I said, "So you told me you like to ski and ride bikes. What else are you interested in?" Might as well see if we had any common interests, I thought.

"I worked as a trainer for the Boise State Broncos football team," he offered. "My bachelor's was in kinesiology, minor in sports science."

I laughed out loud. "Really? I love football!"

"You do?" he asked anxiously.

"I sure do. I have Seahawks season tickets."

"Really?"

I nodded. "When I became a real doctor I splurged on two things. I got a new car and season tickets to the Seahawks."

"I haven't even been to a game since I came here," he said, a bit sad.

"Well, we'll have to go. If you aren't working."

He sighed. "Yeah, if that. I'd love to. I'll talk to my program director. See if I could switch around some hours. I've never asked before."

"He might be amenable," I nodded.

"She. Doctor Gamble. She's a perfectionist, but I've learned an awful lot from her."

Doctor Trisha Gamble was a legend at UW. Patients came from all over the country to seek her orthopedic surgery skills. She still performed select surgeries but for the most part, she now oversaw the surgery residents and held administrative authority. Even I, a lowly nephrologist, knew who she was.

I decided to tease him a little. "Can you flutter your eyelashes at her, show her a little leg, to persuade her?"

"Hah! Hell no. She'd kick me out on the spot. I've heard stories about residents trying to get in good with her. She doesn't play favorites at all."

"Well, that's good. My program director was kind of a dick, but he liked me so I didn't complain."

He laughed. "Did you show your cleavage?"

"No," I self-consciously pulled up the front of my dress. "I spent most of my time covering it up so no one would think I was trying to influence him."

"You could influence me," he grinned, but it wasn't lascivious. His tone was actually very sweet and tender.

"So you like football," I said, returning to the topic at hand. "What else? You a gamer?"

"Gamer? A little, but mostly not. I like to be doing things, physically. I worked at a gym while I was in college in Boise. And I tended bar on weekends."

"You did? I worked as a bartender my first year. Loved it. We should compare notes on drinks."

"You're on," he smiled, pointing at me.

This was going well, I thought. The last thing I could endure was some guy manspreading on my couch playing stupid video games. "You're not into Anime and that geeky con shit, are you?" I asked him.

"No way. Cosplay and all that? Not my thing. I was always more of a jock, although I was never a good enough athlete to compete at anything. I did think about training for that ninja thing. You know, on TV, the American Ninja competition."

"You did?" I stared at him.

"Why, did you do it?" he asked anxiously.

I shook my head. "No, but - someone I knew did. He didn't get past the city qualifying, though." That was a boyfriend from some six or seven years ago. Deke. I was in my gym rat phase at the time. Deke worked out in all his spare time so I'd go to the gym with him. I got in good shape, but he turned out to be a conceited jerk.

"Old lover?" he surmised.

I reddened a little, nodding.

"Amanda didn't want me to do it," he said, sadness creeping into his voice. "She said it was stupid and she'd be embarrassed."

"God, I'm sorry," I said. If that were true, she really was a bitch. Deke was an asshole, but I'd never have told him not to do something he really wanted to do.

"Didn't mean to get back to that," he apologized.

We were cleaning up our plates nicely. We both paused to enjoy our cocktails and the view. The sun had set and lights twinkled on the water.

"What made you choose nephrology?" he asked me. "Did you know you wanted to do it, or was there something in your rotations about it that appealed to you?"

"I had an aunt who died from kidney failure. We were close." That was my pat answer to that question. Sometime I'd tell him how much I'd relied on my Aunt when I was growing up. She'd given me the self-confidence to pursue my dream by believing in me when no one else did.

"I'm sorry for you," he said kindly. "You're honoring her memory, then. That's great."

"I like to think that's what I'm doing," I said.

"I'm not so noble," he smiled. "I'm interested in sports and sports injuries, and finding innovative ways to shorten healing time, lessen invasive procedures, and work with the rehab specialists."

"That's not noble?" I laughed.

"Some people think sports are frivolous."

Oh. 'Some people,' I thought. Like his wife.

The waitress asked us if we wanted another drink. Trevor hesitated, but I shook my head. "No thank you. I have an early morning tomorrow."

"Me too," he said. "But then, all my mornings are early. You going in to see Mr. Brooks?"

"Yes," I said, opening my purse.

"I'm taking care of dinner," he informed me. "It was my idea."

"You don't have to do that."

"Yes I do. It's my pleasure. I've enjoyed getting to know you better."

"So have I," I responded honestly.

He helped me out of my seat like a gentleman, and I escaped to the restroom while he took care of the check. I texted Isabel and told her I was out with him.

We walked out into the fresh, cool night air. A hint of rain was on the breeze, I thought. I shivered a little and he put his arm around my shoulders.

"This is my car," I said, stopping beside my bright red Acura NSX sports car.

"Seriously?" he stared at the sexy car that looked like something out of a James Bond movie. Oh yeah. I'd splurged. And this was why I had to be careful when I went to Wenatchee. There were no other red Acura NSXs in that town.

"Sure is," I popped the key fob and the car lit up like Las Vegas.

He whistled. "I thought my Dad's Porsche Cayenne was hot."

"I'm not sure when I'll see you again," I said, opening the door.

"Probably in the morning," he nodded. "Godfrey wants me to do an assessment pre-surgery and we'll go over it. I'm pretty sure he'd like your input, too."

No doubt, I thought. Surgery in kidney patients was always done with caution.

"Anyway," he said, shifting from one foot to the other, not sure what to say or do. Kiss me? Shake my hand? Ravish my breasts?

I took his hand in mine and squeezed it. "I had a lovely time with you." If nothing else, I thought, he was serious eye candy. Damn.

"Mind if I kiss you?"

Uh oh. Kissed by a married man. It wasn't like it hadn't happened before. "Okay," I peeped.

Still holding my hand, he leaned close and touched his lips to mine. I responded lightly. I felt a chill. He kissed me again, a bit harder. I responded to that, too, but pulled back quickly.

"See you tomorrow," I said, ducking into my car.

He shut the door after I got in, smiling. He waved at me as I started the car and backed out. The last I saw of him, he was standing there, hands in his pockets, watching me drive away.