Claiming His Easter Bunny Page 3

  Quickly, I dressed in the simple maxi dress I’d worn to the hospital as it dawned on me. I couldn’t go to a premier restaurant dressed like this. Instantly, I felt crushed with disappointment, but after all I’d done to get Tristan to follow through on his promise, I knew I couldn’t back out now.

  Leaving the bunny costume in the locker room as Lauren had instructed, I made my way back through the maze of bland hallways. Suddenly, I was already looking forward to getting this obligatory dinner over before it even began.

  Chapter 6

  TRISTAN

  “I KNOW WHAT you think this is, Robert, and you’re wrong.” I glared at my colleague, annoyed by his performance in my office.

  He’d left me with no out but to rudely decline the young woman in front of her, something I was not willing to do. It was clear she found it hilarious that Robert was forcing me to dinner, but her reasoning was still unclear. Standing in the hall outside my office, I was more upset with Robert than I ever had been.

  “Oh, Tristan, you need to get out. Besides, you’re the one who said you wanted to take the volunteer out for dinner,” he continued with the point he knew to be misleading.

  “Robert, you know as well as I that when I said that I assumed it was one of the young students in medical school. Why was she the one dressed in that costume, anyways?” I wondered aloud.

  There was a group of med students who volunteered, youthful and eager, that would’ve better carried what looked to be a heavy costume. The more I thought of it, the more I realized they would be green with envy when they learned of her reward.

  “I’m guessing they were too cool for the costume, so I’m going to make sure this quickly makes its way through the grapevine. You know they’ll be clamoring for the next mascot opportunity if it means dinner with you,” he chuckled and I felt myself lighten up.

  Robert knew as well as I, the gossip train in the hospital worked fast and diligently. Everyone would know about my reward for Ingrid before we made it to the restaurant. If it meant more volunteers would be making as much an effort as her, I guessed it would be worth it, but there was no way this was to become a habit.

  “Let’s just hope no one gets the wrong idea,” I heard my worry voice itself. It was the reason I tried to back out of the commitment after learning who was beneath the costume. Gossip tends to get misconstrued by the fourth transaction in the he-said-she-said exchange. I didn’t want anyone thinking this was a date, most of all Ingrid.

  Though, there was nothing about her that seemed impressed by me. Honestly, it was a bit annoying. I was Tristan Hill, for Christ’s sake. Even if she wasn’t interested in going to medical school, I knew she had to see me around the hospital and hear the women fanning over me. Don’t get me wrong, I hated when they did it, but now that I saw the opposite reaction – well, no reaction – I realized I preferred the fawning.

  “Tristan, she’s not one of the residents, and even that’s not banned,” he reminded me. It was a rule I’d fought to change.

  I hated when doctors used their leverage over training residents to extract favors, including sometimes sexual favors. No one could ever be sure why exactly the residents consented, but it always seemed those more interested in doctors received more preferential treatment.

  Long, tireless hours often made it impossible to completely restrict fraternizing, and so the hospital administration refused to put a formal ban on the practice. But everyone knew where I stood on the unethical approach that had grown to be common in hospitals across the country.

  “Resident or not, you know how I feel about it.” I grimaced at the thought of anyone thinking I would dirty my reputation.

  “Oh, lighten up,” Robert patted my shoulder. “It’s just a meal, and it doesn’t have to be any more than that,” he shook his head.

  “I know that,” I shrugged, hoping to look more nonchalant than I felt.

  The truth was, I had been a bit disappointed with how much thought I gave to Ingrid and what she contained beneath the mascot costume. Every second she stood in my office, I felt the hunger grow deep in my chest, a longing I wasn’t used to.

  “When was the last time you went out to eat with a female companion, Tristan?”

  “Excuse me?” I stalled, wracking my brain for an answer.

  I was far from lonely, but a tight schedule led to me skipping the bullshit that comes along with dating. Besides, I never wanted to give anyone the wrong impression, that I could be interested in anything more than blowing off steam in the bedroom.

  Finding women to spend the night with was no hard task, however, I rarely had the desire. An hour or so was all I needed, and then I was gone, back to business without the small talk.

  “You heard me, Tristan. You just don’t have an answer. You need to find a balance with all this work, something outside of the hospital,” Robert played like a broken record.

  His weekly speech had recently been upgraded to daily – reminding me how I needed a social life to stay sane. But my work was all I needed, and if he could focus on his own career, it might be one that didn’t have to hop from one hospital to the next every five years. New, ambitious talent always seemed to bump him from one center to the next.

  As far as I knew, a favor from a friend was the only reason he was at Children’s Hospital Los Angeles. I’d guess that he spent too much time on vacation, a concept that was completely foreign to me. I hadn’t taken more than two consecutive days off in more than four years. Not that I was proud of the fact, but that was what greatness cost and I was more than willing to pay every penny.

  My legacy in the medical profession was already written in stone, while Robert was one promising med school grad away from uprooting his family yet again, depending on another favor to find work.

  I only wished that he could accept that we had differing opinions and priorities on the matter, as I had. Instead, he took on an honorary role as my professional godfather, constantly doling out advice as though he was the esteemed surgeon.

  “My life is well balanced, Robert,” I grumbled, turning to see if Ingrid coming.

  “Balanced between what? Work and work?” Robert chuckled, but I barely heard him.

  I was too focused on Ingrid as she glided down the hallway, oblivious to my staring. She stopped to briefly speak to every nurse, her smile lighting the way as she knelt to hug a patient at the reception desk, filling out final paperwork before discharge.

  She was more than hot – there was a glow about her that made everything else move in slow motion. When her eyes locked with mine, I felt her energy shift, a dark cloud hovering above. I hated to think she could not want to go out to dinner with me, but how could I expect more when I had been such a dick about it?

  “What’s wrong?” I asked as she approached, wearing a flowing long red dress that gave a slight peak of cleavage.

  “We can’t go to the restaurant I had in mind, but I know a good place we can go instead,” she explained, poking her bottom lip out.

  “Oh, okay. Well, let’s get going,” I said, hearing the formal tone in my voice.

  “Sure thing, Dr. Hill,” she smirked, curling the right side of her plump pink lips as she looked on with those big blue eyes.

  “Call me Tristan,” I ordered as I led her out the back exit. She followed to my left, and I felt her glare on the side of my face as my body temperature rose by the second.

  Chapter 7

  INGRID

  “AN ASTON MARTIN Vantage?” I asked, shocked, as Tristan stopped at the front parking space. I couldn’t hide the snicker, realizing he even had VIP treatment in the parking garage.

  It was clear he was the leader of the hospital, if there was one. From the way he treated Dr. Gleeson, to the disbelieving whispers of the nurses in the hall, everyone wanted to know if it was true – that I would be going out to a coveted dinner with Dr. Tristan Hill. Apparently, he had awarded only two before, and both were for resident doctors.

  I was confused by how quickly they
had learned of the news and why they were tracking his nights out. From the envious looks, I was certain they thought it was something more, but there was no way I would ever take someone as pretentious as Tristan seriously, even if I wasn’t boycotting men.

  “You’re into cars?” he asked as his eyebrows furrowed together. It was the way all men looked at me when I mentioned anything about cars, as though a pretty girl could only know make-up brands and celebrity gossip.

  “I took you for more of a Prius type of driver,” I admitted as he followed me to the passenger side door, glancing over my shoulder just in time to see his unguarded smile transform his handsome face.

  “A Prius?” he exclaimed before opening the car door.

  “You know, safe and responsible.” I shrugged as I climbed into the seat, watching as he shook his head before closing the door without another word.

  “I’ve never driven a Prius in my life,” Tristan continued as he climbed into the driver’s seat.

  “Is that supposed to make me think of you as wild and adventurous?” I looked over as he turned the engine over, glancing over at me just long enough for me to notice the green streaks in his hazel eyes once more.

  “I wouldn’t describe myself as wild or adventurous,” he said, backing slowly out of his parking space.

  “No? So, how would you describe yourself?”

  “I wouldn’t,” he answered flatly, flashing a badge to a nodding guard as the gate to the garage rose.

  He didn’t speed, but with all the horsepower, it felt like he glided through traffic with less effort than everyone else on the road. Tristan’s hard face relaxed behind the wheel, and I knew instantly that he was a driving enthusiast.

  “You go for drives to relax, huh?” I questioned as he followed my step-by-step directions to our destination.

  “How can you tell?” He looked at me, puzzled, as I pointed for him to make a turn.

  “I do too. I can tell it relaxes you. Your days must be pretty stressful. Make a left at the next light.”

  “I’d be less stressed if I just knew where we were going instead of these turn-by-turn directions,” he argued.

  “Wilshire and La Brea.” I rose my eyebrows, silently asking if he was satisfied with that end result.

  “My days aren’t that stressful. Nothing more than the normal doctor’s.” He shrugged as he glared into the rearview mirror before switching lanes.

  “What made you go into the medical field? I’m always intrigued by what could make someone so dedicated to a career, and no one can be more committed than a doctor,” I wondered aloud.

  It was a question that had plagued me since childhood, when my mother explained the necessary steps to become a doctor. It was such a long and tireless road, I couldn’t imagine how anyone could remain so focused for so long to see it through.

  Tristan did more than see it through, becoming such an esteemed surgeon that the best children’s hospital in the city treated him like a god of medicine. It was beyond impressive, at least professionally, to see someone so respected in their career.

  “I don’t lie well enough to be a lawyer,” he smirked.

  A soft laugh rumbled from my chest as he glanced over to me, flashing that smile that tightened my stomach. He knew he was attractive, the type of man used to women falling at his feet.

  “And you?” he countered, looking to me before switching lanes again.

  “What about me?”

  “Well, I know you’re not interested in a career in medicine from the way you turned down the opportunity to use me as a résumé builder in my office,” he paused, turning to see my cheeks redden with embarrassment. “But you obviously have some interest. Why do you volunteer?”

  He had a way of making me feel innocent, like a child explaining something to a teacher. With Dr. Gleeson there, I was much bolder. Now, in Tristan’s fancy sports car, I felt ill equipped for his quick banter and overwhelming aura. Though I wanted to answer as he had me, with a witty response, I came up empty, opting for the truth instead.

  “My dad had apparently wanted a boy, but he got me. So, he enrolled me in every sport as soon as I was old enough to join. I started with swimming at the age of three, and I was good!” I nodded for emphasis, watching his smile widen as he looked to me with doubt.

  “I was!” I added.

  “I didn’t doubt you,” Tristan chuckled.

  “I could see it in your eyes,” I warned him, pausing before I continued. “After seeing how good I was in swimming, my dad put me in baseball. I wasn’t as good, because I couldn’t hit well. But I could round those bases like nobody’s business. He saw how good I was and put me in track and field next.”

  I swallowed slowly, knowing this part of the story never got easier. Tristan looked over to me with concern and I rushed myself to finish the story. “It was my first track meet and I was super excited. I won the hundred-meter dash and placed second in the two-hundred-meter. My coach thought the quarter-mile race would be my best one, but on the back stretch my chest started to tighten in a way I’d never experienced.”

  My stomach dropped remembering the awful day and how devastated I was to let down my team and my father. It was embarrassing and defeating, an awful memory that failed to dull with time.

  “Asthma?” Tristan asked solemnly, certain he knew the answer.

  “Yeah, but it was worse than the typical kind. Some kids just had inhalers. Some had inhalers and daily preventative medication. I had the nightly breathing treatments and overnight hospital stays. One year, I missed so much school my parents were worried that I would have to repeat the grade. There was only a certain amount of days you could miss, even if you did the schoolwork as I did,” I sighed, recalling another sad memory.

  “I’m sorry,” Tristan looked concerned.

  “It’s fine. Today, it is controlled by medication, and it’s been years since I was in the emergency room for an attack. It was a long time ago, but some of it sticks with me to even now. The most vivid memory of a hospital is how good it felt when the volunteers would come around with games and gifts to brighten the day. When I recently found myself in a dark place, I thought it would be a great way to return the favor.” I smiled, happy to be done with the painful trip down memory lane.

  “That’s nice,” Tristan smiled softly. “You know, that’s not the entire reason I got into medicine, the whole lawyer thing.”

  “No? Then why?” I asked, intrigued by his willingness to open up.

  I’d assumed he would be a closed book for the outing, quietly challenging myself to get him to relax. Like me, driving appeared to do the trick. I was curious and excited to learn the true motivator for someone as accomplished as him, and I struggled to read his facial expression for any clue before his lips moved to reveal the truth.

  Chapter 8

  TRISTAN

  INGRID STARED AT me intensely as I pulled into the crowded parking lot based on her instruction. I had no idea why I’d offered more of an explanation when it was clear my standard joke of an answer was enough to suffice. After years of being asked the same question about my reason for joining my profession, I’d developed several short and lighthearted answers to protect my true catalyst, which was darker than I liked to recall or share.

  Something about Ingrid disarmed me in a way I couldn’t explain. Talking to her was easy, and after hearing her heartfelt reason for volunteering at the hospital, I thought she deserved to know the truth. Now, I was terrified. I’d never told another soul this part of my story, but staring into her deep blue eyes, I trusted her instantly.

  “Like you, I have an uncomfortable story about my childhood,” I began my battle with the words that were drying my throat. Ingrid clung to my every word as I navigated the parking lot with more attention than necessary, doing everything to avoid the depth of her eyes.

  “My brother was very sick,” I paused before rushing the words. “He had cancer. Brain cancer.” I glanced at her, seeing her swallow slowly, her eyes stil
l trained on me.

  “He, uh… He didn’t make it.” I bit my bottom lip until the pain stung too deeply. “It was obviously very difficult for my family. It was just him and me, and my parents were devastated. For many years, I just wished the doctors could have done more.”

  A red Honda Civic backed slowly out of a space and I signaled my blinker, placing the car in park as I waited to pull into the space.

  “When you’re in that kind of position, the doctors seem like gods. Only they know what is going to happen, and what they tell you is gospel. My parents hung onto every word the doctors said, following all the instructions and signing up for every trial, every hope,” I continued.

  The Honda drove away and I pulled into the space slowly, bringing the car to a stop before shifting gears and turning off the engine.

  Turning to Ingrid, I could see what I hoped weren’t tears building in her eyes. I hated how pitiful people had once looked at me when I shared the difficulty of my past. It was the reason I hadn’t told anyone in years and years about my brother and his untimely death.

  “I didn’t want that power, but I did want to be able to give families the hope the doctors gave my parents. It was the possibility of my brother’s recovery that fueled us during that time. I always thought I would be a realistic doctor, never leading families on, but in many ways, it’s impossible. You set the tone, and I will always choose optimism. You want people to believe there’s a chance, because otherwise, what’s the point?” I looked to Ingrid and she nodded in understanding.

  “Anyways, I decided then and there that I wanted to be a doctor, specializing in pediatrics. The surgeon part came later in school, when I discovered I had a knack for the specialty. But it’s because of my brother. It was a way for me to give back.”

  I couldn’t take the way she was staring at me in silence, a strange emotion coating her face. Not knowing her well enough, I felt small by what I thought was her judgment, certain she was psychoanalyzing me.