Page 18 of Wild Abandon

“You’re a doctor?” Gavin asks inquisitively.

So far, the man didn’t know my age, and now, he’s asking me about my profession. Did he read my profile at all, or did he just like the pretty picture I posted?

I’m going with the latter.

My head slowly rises up and down.

“You’re a doctor?” he asks.

I mean…

“She’s a neurosurgeon,” the bartender answers. “Doc, they need you immediately.”

“I’ll be right there,” I state, watching him walk away.

My mouth is open, and I’m still looking at the space where He Who Remains Nameless was standing.

I turn my cheek to the right and look at Gavin, who is now looking at me with an impressed expression. “I believe this is where we call it a night.”

“Yes. I understand. I’d love to see you again.” His face is lit up with delight.

Talk about an asset. He thinks I’m a freaking brain surgeon.

“No.” The word pours out of my mouth nice and slow. “No, Gavin, we won’t be seeing each other again,” I say.

His shoulders hunch down. I grab my purse and rise from my seat.

But before I walk away, I look down at him and say, “While my only assets might be looks and beauty, your only offer is a career that sounds to be based on interest rates and an upturned housing market which, as history has promised, will fall. And so will you.”

Gavin looks like he’s going to speak, but I continue, “You think beauty fades? A woman’s attraction to a man fades as well. What’s left are humor, morals, and etiquette—three values that you, sir, do not have. So, even if a man is handsome or—as you hope to be—rich, a woman will reject him if she is not attracted to his soul.” I lean in slightly and lower my voice for dramatic effect. “And, in case you were wondering, I have many, many hidden assets, and my looks are only a percent of what I have to offer.”

“Here’s your check.” Laurie is back and places the bill on the table, directly under Gavin’s nose.

I smile at that move as I walk to the farthest end of the bar, around the corner from where my table was. There is a cordless phone sitting on the edge, so I grab it and stand, pretending to be on a call, as I watch Gavin rise, leave money on the table, and stalk out of the bar.

When he is gone, I slam the phone back in its nearby holder and walk over to the bartender, who is pouring a drink for a customer.

I point my finger at him. “I did not need to be saved!”

He doesn’t take his eyes off the pour. “I can see that.”

“What were you thinking?” My foot stomps in a childlike manner.

He places the drink in front of the patron and then walks over to where I am standing. The bar is between us, and while I am standing here, hand on my hip and my stiletto tapping, he is poised, looking at me, practically eye for eye—aside from the fact that my chin is raised and his is lowered.

“I was thinking that guy was an idiot who didn’t understand the value of a woman.”

“And you do?”

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he just stares at me with this blank expression.

Folding my arms over my chest, I add, “It was also incredibly cheesy. I can’t believe he fell for it.”

He incredulously looks at me. “Really? You’re surprised that buffoon fell for a stupid line like, Doctor, you have a call? I’m surprised you were even out with him. You came to Napa to find love, and he’s the guy you go for?”

Whatever exciting physical connection I thought I shared with him the last time I saw him has been shattered. I still want to touch him, but this time, it’s to punch him in his perfect nose. And, instead of some witty comeback or jab I can throw at him, I have nothing.

My words are reduced to that of a fourteen-year-old girl. “Just don’t do that again. I can hold my own.”