The Doctor's Date

  Table of Contents

  Blurb

  Dedication

  Thanks to

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Epilogue

  More from Heidi Cullinan

  Readers love Heidi Cullinan

  About the Author

  By Heidi Cullinan

  Visit Dreamspinner Press

  Copyright

  The Doctor’s Date

  By Heidi Cullinan

  Sequel to The Doctor’s Secret

  Copper Point Medical: Book Two

  The hospital’s least eligible bachelor and its aloof administrator hate each other… so why are they pretending to date?

  Dr. Owen Gagnon and HR director Erin Andreas are infamous for their hospital hallway shouting matches. So imagine the town’s surprise when Erin bids an obscene amount of money to win Owen in the hospital bachelor auction—and Owen ups the ante by insisting Erin move in with him.

  Copper Point may not know what’s going on, but neither do Erin and Owen. Erin intends his gesture to let Owen know he’s interested. Owen, on the other hand, suspects ulterior motives—that Erin wants a fake relationship as a refuge from his overbearing father.

  With Erin suddenly heading a messy internal investigation, Owen wants to step up and be the hero Erin’s never had. Too bad Erin would rather spend his energy trying to rescue Owen from the shadows of a past he doesn’t talk about.

  This relationship may be fake, but the feelings aren’t. Still, what Erin and Owen have won’t last unless they put their respective demons to rest. To do that, they’ll have to do more than work together—they’ll have to trust they can heal each other’s hearts.

  For Amy

  because you also deserve all the happiness

  Thanks to

  DAN AND Anna Cullinan for putting up with the year from hell, my patrons for putting up with me whining about the year from hell and for supporting me, particularly Marie and Rosie, and above all, thanks to Tom and Nina Cullinan for being so understanding about me writing the last few scenes at their fiftieth anniversary party. I’m sure that was part of the magic.

  Prologue

  ERIN ANDREAS was thirteen when he fell in love.

  One of his mother’s interns dropped Erin off at the Mayo Clinic, leaving him at the curb in front of huge glass doors with no further instructions on how to reach his father. Erin asked for John Jean Andreas at the main desk, but his father wasn’t a patient, and no one had time for the shy teenager who didn’t know where he was supposed to go.

  If he’s expecting you, you’d better find him. If you don’t show up, he’ll get angry.

  The thought of his father’s anger was far more terrifying than being lost, so Erin wandered, hoping somehow he would end up in the right place. All the while, he racked his mind for a clue. He was pretty sure his father’s friend was here for surgery. Some kind of cancer. He glanced around, hoping for a map, but he didn’t see one. Could he ask which building handled cancer surgery at an information desk?

  Maybe he should go back to where he’d been dropped off. Except he wasn’t sure how to get there.

  Erin crouched beside a pillar, breath coming too fast, the tightness spreading through his body. His father would be so angry….

  “Are you all right?”

  As Erin blinked the world into focus, a boy his age appeared before him. Taller than he was by a few inches, and broader, though it didn’t take much, as broom handles were thick next to Erin. Dark, tousled hair, in contrast to fair, lightly freckled skin, and brown eyes that bored into Erin, seeing everything. Erin’s hair was wild too, but in a messy, embarrassing way. This boy’s hair was… dangerous.

  “Are you all right?” the boy asked again.

  Nodding, Erin pressed his hands against his clothes. “I—I’m lost. I’m trying to find my father. We’re visiting someone.”

  The boy scratched his chin. For some reason this drew Erin’s attention to his mouth. The boy had thick, pretty lips. “Do you know what department the person you’re visiting is in?”

  Lips. They looked soft, like little pillows. Belatedly Erin realized the boy was waiting for an answer, and he blushed. “I—I… cancer, I think.”

  “Oh, I can take you—” His gaze shifted to something behind Erin, and his entire demeanor changed, his face going pale, his expression stony. “Sorry, I have to go. You want the third floor.”

  As quickly as he’d come, the boy was gone. Erin didn’t even know his name.

  He went to the third floor as the boy suggested, but there wasn’t exactly a sign saying, “Cancer is here,” though there should have been. Wasn’t there a different name for it? He couldn’t remember it. It started with an o, maybe. Erin thought he would ask at one of the desks, but they all had lines of patients at them, so he sat in one of the waiting areas and drew his knees toward his chest.

  He was quite late now. His father was going to be so furious.

  “What are you doing?”

  Glancing up, Erin saw a young girl blinking at him. She wore a yellow sundress and had her natty hair in pigtails sticking out like cotton tufts on either side of her head, and she held a large picture book. She didn’t give him much time to answer before she continued speaking.

  “I’m waiting with my mom and my grandma and my brother. My dad is coming up later after work and bringing my aunt. My uncle is having brain surgery. I brought a book. Why are you here?”

  Erin lowered his legs to the floor. “My father’s friend is having surgery, but I can’t find my dad.”

  The girl hugged the book and shifted her hips so her skirt twirled from side to side. “You should sit here with me while you wait for him. You can read to me.”

  The information desks were still full of lines. “I’m not sure where I’m supposed to wait, though.”

  “Come on already.”

  He was going to argue more, but she pulled him from the bench, leading him to a different section of the waiting area, where a tall woman and an older woman approached them, looking stern.

  “Emmanuella Grace, where have you been?”

  The girl smoothed a hand over her pigtails. “Mom, this boy is lost.”

  Emmanuella’s mother appeared to be highly suspicious of this story. The grandmother came forward on a cane and scrutinized him over the top of her glasses, which had a glittering gold chain dangling from each end of the frame. “Land sakes, child, you don’t look like anyone’s fed you in weeks. And what is going on with your hair?”

  Reflexively, Erin touched his unruly, kinky, sandy curls that did nothing but frizz.

  Emmanuella’s mother folded her arms over her chest. “Where’re you supposed to be?”

  Erin tried not to let his panic show. “My father is here, but I don’t know where. They didn’t tell me how to find him when they dropped me off. I thought maybe he would be waiting for me, but he wasn’t, and I can’t find him.”

  Emmanuella’s mother muttered under her breath and cast her gaze at the ceiling.

  Erin fixed his gaze on his shoes. “I’m sorry.”

  Emmanuella was undaunted. “See, Mama? He needs me.”

  Daring a glance upward, Erin saw Emmanuella’s mother nodding at him, lips flat. “Y
ou sit with my mother and Emmanuella, and I’ll find your father. What’s your name, and what’s your father’s name?”

  “Erin Andreas, ma’am. My father is John Jean Andreas.”

  The woman’s face became a stony mask.

  Emmanuella’s grandmother chuckled darkly. “Don’t that beat all.”

  Erin worried he should maybe apologize again.

  Emmanuella’s mother sighed. “All right. I think I know exactly where your father is. Wait here. I’ll be back soon.”

  She left the lobby, and as soon as she was gone, the grandmother sat beside him. After opening her large purse, she produced half a sandwich in a bag and gave it to Erin.

  “Eat this, boy. When Nicolas returns, I’ll send him out to get you some milk. Maybe something sweet too, if you eat all of your sandwich.”

  Erin peeled away the cellophane. The sandwich smelled strongly of mayonnaise, mustard, and onions. He’d never seen anything like it.

  Emmanuella nudged him with her elbow. “Go on, eat it, don’t stare at it. Haven’t you seen an egg salad sandwich before?”

  Erin hadn’t, but he didn’t want to say so. He shoved his uncertainty aside and took a bite. His eyes widened. “This is good. Really good.”

  Emmanuella beamed with pride. “Grandma Emerson makes the best egg salad sandwiches.”

  He finished it quickly, and while he ate, Emmanuella settled in beside him, opening the book on his lap. “When you’re done eating, let’s read this book together. I can read it, but I’m slow, so it’s better if you do most of it. My brother Nick won’t. He says it’s too girly.” Emmanuella smiled at Erin. “But you look a lot like a girl, so you won’t mind.”

  “Hush now,” Emmanuella’s grandmother said.

  Erin was used to being told he was girly. “I’ll read your book.” He wiped his mouth with his fingers. “I think I need to get a drink of water first, though.”

  “I’ll get it for you.” Emmanuella popped off the chair, beaming. “They have cups by the water fountains here. I’ll bring the drink to you.”

  She ran across the room—until her grandmother scolded her and told her to walk—hurrying with the paper cup full of water. As Erin drank it, Emmanuella studied his hair.

  “Your hair is too fuzzy. You don’t use enough grease on it.”

  “White boys can’t use grease.” Grandma Emerson was reading a book now. “Though he could stand to wash less and simply use conditioner.”

  Erin blinked at her. “Would that work?”

  Emmanuella’s grandmother shook her head. “Sometimes I wonder if white mothers teach their children anything.”

  Erin’s certainly hadn’t taught him much, and now she didn’t even want to live with him. “Thank you. I’ll try it.”

  Emmanuella tapped his leg impatiently. “It’s time to read my book.”

  The book was a fairy tale of sorts, a story about a princess who was kidnapped by an ogre king and held in his castle until the prince appeared, sword in hand, to slay the ogre and rescue her. Emmanuella knew the story well, interjecting occasionally when she recognized words or remembered certain parts. She also added her own commentary.

  “The ogre king is so ugly.” Then, on another page, “You’re like the princess, see? You have the same hair and the same nose.”

  This got another reprimand from her grandmother.

  Erin didn’t mind, though. Besides, he felt like the princess in the castle a lot of the time. Except he didn’t agree—the ogre king was a bit rugged, but he wasn’t ugly. Erin preferred him to the prince, to be honest. He looked similar to the boy he’d met in the hallway earlier, which probably helped make Erin partial to the ogre king. In fact, Erin was disappointed, because he could tell how the story was going to end, and he didn’t want the ogre king to die. He wanted….

  He stared at the scowling ogre king—muscled and swarthy, dark hair wild, glaring out at Erin. Erin’s chest felt funny, and so did his stomach.

  He wanted….

  “Who’s this guy?”

  Erin blinked, his focus shifting from the fear inside his head to the unknown in front of him. A boy about his age, maybe slightly older, stood above his chair, glowering. Erin shrank into his seat as Emmanuella’s grandmother swatted the newcomer.

  “Nicolas Beckert, mind your manners. Where have you been all this time? Did they move the cafeteria to the moon?”

  “I ran into Owen Gagnon. His dad dragged him here, I guess, and he’s angry. I figured somebody had to calm him down.” He turned to Erin, casting a protective glance at his sister. “I’m Nick Beckert. Who are you?”

  Erin did his best to sit up straight and hold out his hand without knocking the book off his lap. It didn’t work, because the book slid and he had to grab it, and he ended up looking like an idiot. “Erin Andreas. P-pleased to meet you.”

  “Aw, hell.”

  “I will wash your mouth out with soap.” Emmanuella’s grandmother pulled her wallet out of her purse. “Go back to the cafeteria and get some milk. Whole milk, and some cake. This boy is too thin.”

  “Grandma.”

  “Don’t Grandma me. You do as you’re told.”

  Nick clenched his fists at his sides. “I don’t want to give him milk and cake.”

  “It’s clear to me you want a whipping as well as a mouth full of soap.” She handed him a bill. “Now go and get—”

  “Erin.”

  Erin’s grip on the book slipped at the sound of his father’s voice. The egg salad sandwich in his stomach turned over as he stumbled to his feet, fighting the urge to cower, knowing he had to stand up straight or it would be worse. So much worse.

  John Jean Andreas towered over his son, his displeasure coming off him in tight waves. “Why are you here clutching a picture book? You were supposed to meet me, and now I’ve had to come find you.”

  Erin was cold to his bones, but he dared not let himself tremble. He wished he hadn’t eaten. “I’m sorry, Father.”

  “He wasn’t causing any trouble.” This came from Grandma Emerson, speaking with a firmness that almost made Erin more nervous of her than he was of his father. “Poor child was lost and hungry. We were happy to help him out.”

  “Mama.” Emmanuella’s mother’s voice was sharp with warning.

  Grandma Emerson ignored her, easing into her chair. She patted Erin on the small of his back. “You go on, young man, and don’t keep your father waiting. Thank you for reading so patiently to Emmanuella.”

  Erin walked toward his father, who was already leaving. At the last second, Erin remembered himself and turned. “Thank you for the sandwich.”

  Grandma Emerson nodded, then waved him on.

  As soon as they were out of earshot, his father started in on him.

  “What did you think you were doing? Why didn’t you come directly to me?”

  Erin wanted to hunch his shoulders, but he knew he couldn’t without getting yelled at, so he simply kept his gaze down. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know where you were. It’s so big.”

  “For heaven’s sake, it’s not as if we’re in the Damon Building. This is only the St. Mary’s campus.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  His father pursed his lips and smoothed his hands over his suit. “It’s fine. I don’t like how they had to find you for me, but it’s done now.” John Jean pushed the button for the elevator. “Stay away from the Beckerts. Collin Beckert has finally muscled himself onto the St. Ann’s board, but if we have our way, it’ll only be temporary. Christian’s cancer is supposed to be treatable, but… well, we have to tread carefully. Don’t muddy the waters for me.”

  This must have been why Nick’s family reacted coldly when they’d heard Erin’s name and his father’s. It was another one of his father’s work things, something to do with the hospital in Copper Point. It always had to do with the hospital. All Erin could think of, though, was Emmanuella’s kindness and Grandma Emerson’s egg salad sandwich.

  Erin wished he’d gotten to know
Nick better, even if Nick didn’t like him. Maybe if he’d spent more time with him, he could have changed his mind. People in Copper Point were kinder than the other people at boarding school. Erin longed to meet boys his age and have them over while he was on break. Just one friend would do… but it never worked out.

  His father led him to another lobby area, where they sat down to wait. His father read the newspaper, and Erin perched quietly beside him, doing nothing.

  He didn’t know why he was there, but he knew better than to ask questions. His father would tell him what to do when it was time. He did his best to concentrate on being still and ready for whenever his father would want him.

  Except it wasn’t easy, because he kept thinking of Emmanuella’s picture book and the ogre king. More specifically, his reaction to the ogre king. What did it mean? Did it mean anything? It terrified him, but he didn’t know what to do with his emotions. He’d had all sorts of strange feelings lately about a lot of things. He didn’t want to do anything with them, but it was as if something had awakened in him, and though he didn’t understand it yet, he was pretty sure it wasn’t good. Like how he kept thinking about the ogre king, wishing he had someone strong and bold in his life to burst in and take care of everything.

  Maybe the ogre king would care for him too.

  Erin swallowed and ducked his head, cheeks heating.

  His father’s sharp flick to his knee brought Erin upright, dispelling thoughts of the ogre king. His father kept his gaze on the far wall. “I’m going to check with the nurse to see if Christian is ready for visitors yet. When we go in, I want you on your best behavior. He’ll be impressed you’ve come along, so make sure you don’t stand there like a fool. Be intelligent. Ask polite questions. Look interested.”

  Erin still didn’t understand, but he didn’t dare ask for clarification. He’d have to figure it out. Closing his fists nervously against his thighs, he nodded. “Yes, Father.”

  John Jean rose. “Stay here.”

  Erin didn’t allow himself to relax until his father disappeared around the corner, but even then he only allowed himself a sigh, not easing his posture. Moments later Nick came toward him from the other direction, holding a container of milk and a piece of chocolate cake on a plate wrapped in plastic.