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“You shouldn’t be driving around like this.”
“Look, don’t worry, okay?” she snapped, then drew in a breath. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to come across as ungrateful. But I’ll take care of it.”
“Sure.” He lifted his hands in surrender. “Your call.”
He gestured for her to enter his home, and she did so. She smoothed her hand over her sweatshirt, her shoulders suddenly tight and heavy. After removing her shoes, she walked across the marble floor.
A collection of expensive rugs, paintings and accents added warmth to the spacious, airy living area. The kids had already gone to the second floor to play, and she imagined one-year-old Trevor napped in his room. She placed her back in one of the chestnut colored sofas, and turned to him. “Anything I should know?”
“No. I should be back in three hours. I have dinner with an investor, and I can’t cancel.”
“Sure, I understand. New business venture?”
A twinkle hit his eyes. “Yeah. I’m pitching a new hospital for surgeries that insurance companies don’t cover to those who can’t afford.”
Sign me up for an overhaul.“Oh. Yeah. Like, I could walk in there and get a lipo or butt reduction surgery at no cost?” She chuckled.
“You don’t need any of that,” he said.
“Easy to say from a man who never saw me naked,” she said. When she heard herself out loud, a flush slapped her cheeks. Shit. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Oh, that sounded bad. Sorry, it’s been one of those days.”
“No worries. Wish you could come to dinner with me instead. It’s been a pain going to these things alone.”
“Yeah my sweatpants ensemble would really impress an investor.”
He chuckled. “It might. Shows we really need the money.”
Regret clogged her throat, and she recoiled, unsure if anger or embarrassment flowed through her veins. He must have sensed her discomfort, for he bridged the gap between them and squeezed her shoulder. “Hey, that was a stupid thing to say. I’m sorry.”
“S’okay.” She waved him off. After a childhood of wearing secondhand clothes and finding out the many ways she could recycle old shoes, his comment cut deep into her soul. She’d thought she made it by having a misleading glamorous occupation, where she helped people become prettier. Or perhaps by hanging out with her friends who never made her feel out of place even though they had fatter bank accounts.
But his words had the power of taking her on a time travel back to when she’d been a teenager and worked double shifts to help her mom make ends meet.
“No, really. After all you’ve done…”
“Violet is my friend. She would have done the same for me,” she said, and the pulse in his neck jumped. She lifted her chin in challenge, aware he didn’t like whenever anyone mentioned Violet.
He looked away. “I won’t be late. Thanks again.”
She squared her shoulders. “My pleasure.”
* * *
“Very well,Damian. You have an ambitious plan,” said Bill O’Donnell, the fifty-something investor who he’d been trying to get ahold of for weeks. Finally, the man agreed to have dinner with Damian.
“It’s a win-win. The investors will get great PR, and also enjoy tax write-offs.” Damian lifted his tumbler of scotch to his lips, and sipped. His goal was to provide benefits for the people who really needed procedures deemed mainly cosmetic by insurance companies, but he knew focusing on the financial aspect of it would sway Bill a lot faster.
“What motivated you to do this?”
“Growing up, my mother was in a fire accident and faced horrible burnings. But after a while, she couldn’t afford surgeries and the insurance considered some elective. She had a hard time finding jobs.” Guilt tightened his heart like a rope. If he hadn’t distracted his mother from cooking and asked her to play with him, maybe she wouldn’t have forgotten the gas was still on.
Bill nodded. “I’m sorry. Must have been tough.”
“Yes. I wanted to become a surgeon to help her with her scars, and I did—mostly. But I can’t stop thinking there are lots of people out there still needing help,” he said, pleased at how casual he sounded.
Bill ran his fingers through his curly red hair, a gift from his Irish heritage. “People will always need help. Listen, I have a financial advisor who goes over these projects with me. It’s easy to say yes, but sometimes crunching the numbers first is better in the long run.”
“I fully understand.”
