Shark Out of Water (9 page)

“Sabine is a fashion model. She mainly works the European circuit, but she has been working here in the United States more often lately.”

Charlotte surprised him by laughing. “How did I not see that coming?” she shook her head and chuckled. “You come off as the absolute stereotype of a French man, arrogant, charming, and seductive. Of course your sister would be a gorgeous French fashion model! Are your parents painters or musicians?”

It was too much, Guy began laughing and shaking his head. “My mother is a wonderful painter, but my father works in finance. He did, anyway. He is retired now.”

“Do they live in a gorgeous Parisian flat overlooking the Eiffel Tower?” Charlotte was grinning, now, enjoying teasing him, but Guy could only shake his head again.

“A
château
in Beynac-et-Cazenac, actually, a city on the cliffs.” Guy smiled at the thought of being there soon. As much as he did not want to be badgered about moving home, he was anticipating the calming atmosphere of the country.

“Is that where you grew up?” Charlotte asked. “I didn’t have you pegged for a country boy.”

“Pegged?” Guy asked.

“I meant, I didn’t imagine you as having grown up out in the country. You seem very comfortable in the city.”

“
Oui,
I am
.
You were right before. My parents moved to the country for retirement. I grew up in Paris, in a large flat, but it was on the Seine, not by the Eiffel Tower.” He shook a finger at her. “You did not guess that correctly, at least. I am not all stereotype.”

Even though Charlotte laughed again, she looked at him seriously. “You know I was just joking. You are very far from a stereotype, even though I think you enjoy letting people think that of you.”

“It is what people expect.”

Charlotte did not respond to that. She shook her head as if she did not believe him, but she chose not to argue. He still was unsure of what quality Charlotte possessed that felt so comforting, but he found himself wishing he could have stayed with her longer. Unfortunately, it was time for him to get back to the hospital.

“Charlotte, I regret that I must say goodbye.”

She looked over at him, startled. “Has it been that long already? I hadn’t realized.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry if I kept you longer than I should have.”

“Please do not say you are sorry. I would stay much longer if I could, but I will have more than one person cross at me if I do not arrive on time. I enjoyed speaking with you very much.” He hesitated, not sure why he suddenly felt so insecure. He feared pushing this any further, but he also feared leaving his next interaction with Charlotte up to chance. “Could we do this again?” he asked finally.

Her fingers paused in their stirring of her lemonade. She did not look up at him right away. Even when she did, there was indecision in her eyes. That same strange pain blossomed in his chest again. Did she really not believe what she had said about him, that he was not the cavalier and arrogant version of himself he portrayed?

“I… I would like that,” Charlotte said. She met his eyes squarely, showing him her fear, but also her anticipation.

“You would?” He could not keep the surprise from his voice.

Charlotte laughed. “Yes, why wouldn’t I?” She said it casually, but it was clear from her expression that there were definitely reasons she would not. Guy did not know what they were, but something was pushing her to turn him away.

Before she could change her mind, Guy pushed his mobile phone across the table to her. He kept his hand on the phone, ready to pull it back if needed. “Would it be too brash of me to ask for your number?”

Charlotte tapped her fingers on her own phone. After a moment’s hesitation, she pushed it toward him. “Not if you give me yours as well.”

Smiling with relief, Guy abandoned his own phone and picked up hers. He heard her let out a breath as he worked on saving his number into her contacts. By the time he had finished, she was holding his phone out to him. They traded phones once again and Guy felt great relief as he slid it into the pocket of his suit coat. “
Merci beaucoup
, Charlotte. For talking with me, and for your number. I am looking forward to doing this again.”

“So I am,” Charlotte said, and Guy was almost sure she meant it.

He forced himself to stand after leaving enough cash on the table for both their drinks. Charlotte followed, and Guy hoped he was not imagining her regret at having to end their time together. Neither one spoke as they exited the restaurant. It was not until they reached the sidewalk and were faced with the prospect of going their separate ways that they both attempted to speak at the same time.

Charlotte laughed and allowed Guy to speak first. He had meant to say a simple goodbye, but instead, he said, “You know, you can call me if you need to talk about anything, yes? You have been so kind to listen to me the last few times we have met. I would be happy to exchange the favor.”

“Return the favor,” Charlotte corrected with a smile that seemed to tremble at the corners. “Thank you, Guy. I really appreciate that.”

Reluctantly, he extended his hand toward her. She took it and they shook slowly, neither one eager to part. “Aren’t you supposed to be kissing me or something?” Charlotte asked, her playful smile returning.

“Excuse me?” Guy asked, surprised, yet not at all reluctant to answer her question.

“I thought the French were always kissing each other on the cheek when they said hello or goodbye. Perhaps you’ve been too Americanized for that, though,” Charlotte said.

Guy stepped closer, and this time he was not teasing. “Not at all,” he said as his free hand slipped to the back of her neck. He heard her breath catch, felt her body go completely still. Yet he did not pull back. His lips pressed gently first to one cheek, and then the other, lingering a fraction of a second too long.

He pulled back slowly. Charlotte’s breathing came haltingly, but his had stalled altogether. For too long, neither one could do anything but stare at the other. It was Charlotte who finally broke the silence. “Well,” she said shakily, “that answers that question.”

“You have more questions which need answered?” Guy asked. His mouth turned up in a wicked grin.

Charlotte let out a held breath at his teasing. “Any other questions I have can wait until next time. You’re going to be late for work.”

Sighing, Guy forced himself to step back and release her. “I will see you again soon, yes?”

Charlotte nodded, a smile playing on her lips as she said goodbye for real. Guy watched her walk away, knowing he was going to be late, but not caring nearly as much as he should. He only turned back toward the hospital because his phone began ringing, no doubt Dr. Canton demanding to know where he was. He was about to answer the call and offer his apologies, but found himself confronted with a different doctor, one he knew not only from helping out on the oncology floor the past few weeks, but from his days of medical school rotations.

“Guy,” Dr. Myles said, “are you just coming in?”

“
Oui
, traded shifts with Canton.”

Myles nodded, but his thoughts seemed to be on something else. “Was that Charlotte Brooks you were just talking to?”

Guy nodded.

“I didn’t know you two knew each other.”

“We just met last week. Stumbled into each other at work. She was on your floor, actually, delivering paperwork or something. I meant to ask her what floor she works on.” Guy shook his head at his forgetfulness.

For some reason, Myles’ brows knit together in concern. “Guy, she doesn’t work at the hospital.”

“
Comment cela
?” What did he mean Charlotte did not work at the hospital? What else would she be doing there so often?

Myles set his hand on Guy’s shoulder, forcing him to focus. “Guy, she doesn’t work here. She’s one of my patients.”

Chapter 10

Ce que je fais?

Guy paced back and forth in his office. The one good thing about the night shift was that it was less busy. That was also a bad thing. It was that night, at least. Guy’s mind had already been filled to near-overflowing from the funeral. He did not know what to do after learning about Charlotte.

His patient. That was all Myles had told him. Technically, he should not have even said that, but he was concerned for his patient and his friend, concerned Guy had no idea what he was getting himself into and that Charlotte would only be hurt. His pacing increased, taking him back and forth across the tiny room at a frenzied pace. Myles did not need to say much more in order to send Guy crashing. He was an oncologist. His patients all had cancer. Charlotte was his patient. Was she dying?

He could not take it any longer. It was late, nearly midnight, but he dialed anyway.

“Guy?” Vance asked sleepily. “Are you okay?”

“
Non, je veux dire, oui. J'ai besoin de votre aide. Je ne sais pas quoi faire.
” It all came tumbling out at once, leaving Guy breathing hard, desperate for an answer.

“Guy, English, please. I only caught three or four words of that.”

“
Je suis
…sorry,” Guy apologized. “Vance, can you come to the hospital?”

“Is everything all right?”

“
Oui
, but I cannot leave. I need to talk. I do not know what to do.”

“About Patricia?” he questioned. “I’m not sure what…”

“
Non
, about Charlotte,” Guy said impatiently.

Vance’s sigh echoed over the phone. “I’ll be there in twenty.” He ended the call a moment later, leaving Guy to go back to his pacing. Every minute felt like an eternity. He was scowling, frustrated at everything, by the time Vance finally knocked on his office door. He yanked the door open with an impatient growl.

“Simmer down, Guy,” Vance grumbled.

“What?” Now was not the time for stupid American phrases!

“It means calm yourself.” Vance rolled his eyes. “You’re the one who dragged me out of bed in the middle of the night to talk. You could at least make sense when you call so I know what I’m racing here for.”

Guy glared at him. “You told me to call you tonight if I needed to talk.”

“Yeah, and I meant it, but I thought we’d be discussing Patricia’s funeral, not whatever is going on with some woman you’ve only spoken to a few times!”

Collapsing into his office chair, Guy tried to rein in his turbulent thoughts and emotions. Vance stood watching him for a few more seconds before giving in and taking the extra chair. He was barely settled before Guy started talking.

“I was wrong about Charlotte.”

“In what way?” Vance asked.

Guy ran his hands through his hair. The sudden frown on Vance’s face said he did not miss how they were shaking. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Guy stared at his desk. “She does not work here. She is a patient. One of Myles’ patients.”

Vance worked with individuals recovering from traumatic experiences in his practice, but he knew Myles because they had all done rotations in the oncology ward during medical school. His posture changed. Instead of being almost hostile toward his friend, his shoulders sagged. “Guy, I’m sorry. Do you know what type of cancer it is?”

He shook his head. “Myles could not tell me anything. I would have to ask Charlotte.”

“Are you going to?”

Guy lifted his hands in defeat. “I do not know.” He shook his head. “If she had wanted me to know, she would have told me,
oui
?”

“Or,” Vance said, “it may be that you two barely know each other and a cancer diagnosis isn’t the first thing you tell someone.” Vance’s voice was sympathetic, but he seemed confused by the situation and by Guy’s reaction. “How did you find out about this anyway? I can’t imagine Myles would just offer up information like that in a casual conversation. He shouldn’t have even divulged she was a patient.”

“He saw me with her.” Guy closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the chair. “I think he was worried because he saw me kiss her.”

“You kissed Charlotte?” Vance asked. His worry deepened.

“Just on the cheek. She was teasing me about shaking her hand instead of giving her a more traditional goodbye, so I kissed both her cheeks.” Guy played it off as nothing, but his chest constricted at the memory of how her breathing had stopped in that moment, or how it felt to be that close to her. When he opened his eyes, he knew Vance saw the truth.

Vance shifted in his seat, crossing his legs and leaning forward. “I’m not sure why you’re so upset about this.” When Guy’s hands balled into fists, he held up a hand to ward off his friend’s reaction. “Look, I’m not trying to make light of her condition, but I don’t get what’s going on here. You barely know her. You’ve spoken to her a handful of times. You don’t do serious relationships. You don’t even do casual relationships very well.

“Think back on your last five girlfriends, Guy. You broke up with one over a cat. The others were just as ridiculous. Gwen asked you to pick her up at the airport. Allie gave you a live plant. With Morgan, it wasn’t even her fault. You ran into her parents by accident, and that was too serious for you.” Vance shook his head. “I’m not saying your compassion toward Charlotte is a bad thing, but I don’t understand why you’re this attached to her so suddenly.”

“I do not know either!” Guy shouted. Did his friend not see that? He had no idea why Charlotte held his attention, why instead of running away from her at such devastating news, he was agonizing over how to handle it. “She is…too real.”

Frowning, Vance considered his friend’s words for a few moments before speaking. “What do you mean,
too real
?”

Guy could only shrug. It was difficult to put into words. He tried for Vance’s sake. He owed him that much. “Everything she says or does, even her appearance, there is nothing dishonest. She is open to me. She shows me her true feelings and accepts mine. She does not allow me to hide behind jokes and flattery.”

“How does she do this?” Vance asked.

Again, Guy had no idea. His shoulders bobbed helplessly. “There is something in her manner that draws out what I would not normally tell a stranger.” He paused, really considering for the first time what it was about Charlotte that attracted him so much. His mind took him back to their conversation in the cafeteria where she shared about her husband’s passing. “She sees more than others. She has known too much pain to not recognize it in other people.”

Vance’s expression became thoughtful. “What kind of pain?”

“She was married once, but her husband has passed now.” Guy shook his head, realizing the depth of her ability to sense pain in others. “The cancer as well. It makes more sense now.” He sighed so deeply, he felt like he had deflated in his chair. His head shook back and forth slowly as understanding hit him squarely.

“What makes sense?”

“Her hesitation.” Guy dragged one hand down his face, frustrated at having missed the truth before. “Tonight, when I asked her to join me at the bistro, she seemed worried. She is kind to talk to me, but I think it frightened her to take our casual run-ins to another level. Then, when we were talking, she said she had to visit her parents to ask their advice about a difficult decision. When I asked her to see me again, she was scared, but she agreed. I thought she was just unsure about my character, but I think it is more than that.”

Vance nodded to everything he said. It was disheartening to receive his agreement. He wanted Vance to argue, to tell him he was wrong. Needing to talk to her parents, not wanting to begin a relationship, it did not speak well to her prognosis. If she was worried about her future, did that mean she did not have very much time left?

“You mentioned asking Charlotte to see you again,” Vance said. His voice was steady, calm, though it seemed forced. “Do you intend to follow through on that?”

Part of Guy wanted to say yes right away, but another part of him balked at the notion. Who was he to barge in on her life when she was dealing with so much already? He knew from medical school that he had difficulty handling chronic illnesses. He doubted he could provide any comfort and feared he would only make things worse for her. He also had to consider the impact it would have on his life as well.

“I do not know, Vance. You saw me during rotations. I don’t know if I can do this. I spend so much time at work already, and I have the blasted date shark clients to take care of as well.” Guy’s stomach sank, remembering he had another client to see that weekend. He wanted to strangle his sister in that moment.

“How has that been going?” Vance asked. “The date shark thing?”

“It’s a nightmare,” Guy grumbled.

“That seems a little strong.”

Guy shook his head, cursing Eli and his sister both. “The woman last weekend, she could not stop checking her reflection in every shiny surface she could find. Not just to check her teeth, either. She was obsessed with looking at herself. She got up to freshen up her makeup every ten minutes. It was very frustrating. I am trying to do as Eli suggests and just observe, but it is difficult. I do not know how to help them like this.”

“At least it wasn’t bugs this time,” Vance said, trying to contain a smile.

Glowering at his friend, Guy slouched in his chair.

“Seriously, though,” Vance said, “you’ve made no commitment to Charlotte. If this isn’t something you think you can handle, it would be better to tell her that now. She has enough to deal with in her life without having to worry about whether or not you’re going to disappear.”

For a long while, neither of them said anything. Guy was almost sure his friend had fallen asleep on him after the first few minutes, but he needed the time to think. What was Charlotte to him, other than a sympathetic ear? Vance was right that Charlotte seemed to have no expectation of a lasting relationship with him. In fact, she seemed almost to be avoiding one. If he disappeared from her life now, it would be a missed opportunity possibly, one she likely would not spend much time thinking about. It should be easy to walk away from her.

Except it was not.

“I cannot do it,” Guy said, almost to himself.

Vance proved not to be asleep by saying, “You have to do what you think is best.” He nodded, compassion in his eyes. “She’ll understand why getting into a relationship with her would be too difficult right now.”

“No,” Guy said. He shook his head. “I meant that I cannot walk away from her.”

The shock in Vance’s expression would have made him laugh if it were due to any other source. He did not laugh now. Guy kept his gaze fastened on Vance’s, waiting for his shock to morph into argument, to tell him he was making the wrong decision. He almost wanted to hear those words. Part of him was terrified of not running from Charlotte.

“Guy,” Vance said. Guy braced for an argument. “This isn’t going to be easy, but I have faith in you.”

Stunned, Guy could only stare at him. “That is it?” he demanded. “That is all you have to say?”

“What did you expect me to say?” Vance asked.

“To tell me not to do it.”

Vance laughed and shook his head. “Why, because you’re too stuck on yourself and not serious enough for anything more than a fling?” He stood and shrugged back into his jacket. “Guy, you’re the only one who believes that. Supporting Charlotte through whatever she’s about to face is going to test you, bitterly, but you’re more than capable. I’m not talking about your medical training, either. Even before I found out about Carmody and the time you spend helping out with their daughter, I knew about Patricia and the hundreds of other patients you’ve treated and poured your heart and soul into. If Charlotte is here by herself, facing cancer, you’re exactly what she needs.”

Standing as well, Guy walked over to his friend, head hanging after such heartfelt compliments he was not sure he deserved. “I am scared to do this,” he admitted quietly.

“Of course you are. Any sane person would be.” Vance clapped him on the back and pulled him into an embrace. “You won’t be alone. The rest of us will be here to help however we can.”

Guy’s arms tightened around his friend. He had spent so much time building the façade he presented to the world. It protected him from facing what he did not wish to face, but it had failed him. Somehow he had managed to invite behind his barrier the only woman who had the potential to break him. He released his friend slowly, blinking, struggling to keep his calm.

“Thank you for coming so late, Vance.”

“Any time.” He smiled, but it was strained. “Let me know when you talk to Charlotte and find out her prognosis.”

Suddenly, Guy felt like he had been punched in the gut. He had been so focused on deciding between running and staying, he had forgotten that he still did not know the seriousness of Charlotte’s condition. What if she was going home to her parents so they could help her decide between going through treatment to try and extend her life, or spending her final days with a better quality of life?