Moonlight Over Manhattan(47)

“Never intentionally.” She grinned. “Only when I lose my balance when walking. Which happens pretty often at this time of year.” They reached the curve of Morton Street and turned around, returning the way they’d come. “So being a trauma doctor doesn’t put you off adventurous sports?”

“No, although some things are off-limits.”

“Such as?”

“I hate motorcycles.”

“Did you always want to be a doctor?”

“Yes.” They arrived back at his building and he held the door for her. “My father and grandfather are both doctors. Family practice in Connecticut.”

“You didn’t want to join them? Follow in the family footsteps?”

“I wanted something faster paced.”

“Was your father angry with you for not wanting to join him?”

“Angry?” The question surprised him. “Why would he be angry?”

“Oh, because—” She gave a little shake of her head. “I thought maybe he wanted you to join him, and that you doing something different might have made him angry.”

“He wanted me to do whatever it was that interested me. In my case that was trauma.” He stood aside to let her walk first into the elevator. “Did you always want to own your own business?”

“No. In fact it would have been the last thing on my mind.” She unwound her scarf from her neck. “I’m not that good with people and I’m not good with accounts.”

“My sister says the Bark Rangers virtually own the whole of the East Side of Manhattan.”

“We’re doing well. Most of that is down to my sister, Fliss. She’s the business brain.”

He watched as she soothed Madi.

The dog had been so well behaved the whole time they’d been out he hardly recognized her as the same animal he’d met when he’d walked through the door that first day.

“Does Fliss have your sophisticated skills as an animal tamer?”

“Animal tamer?” She straightened. “Aren’t you slightly exaggerating my skills?”

“Not from where I’m standing.”

“I thought ‘animal tamer’ was reserved for someone who works in a circus, or at least with dangerous animals.”

“My apartment looked like a circus when you arrived the other day and as for what’s dangerous—it’s all about perspective. You turned Madi from a marauding mass of teeth and fur into a well-behaved animal. She’s looking at you for praise and attention all the time. She’s walking close to your leg and waiting for you to give her instructions. If that isn’t animal taming I don’t know what is.”

“She’s a good girl.”

He noticed that the moment they arrived in his apartment, she removed Madi’s coat. The dog’s comfort was always her priority.

“You love your job.”

“I adore it. Don’t you love yours?”

Did he love his? Ethan frowned. It was a question he hadn’t asked himself in a long time. “Love is probably the wrong word. It’s satisfying. Challenging. So now your sister is working from the Hamptons? You weren’t tempted to join her?”

“No. I love Manhattan. I love the Hamptons too, but I wouldn’t want to live there. I’ve worked with some of my clients for eight years. They feel like family. And this place feels like home.” She took Madi to her crate and the dog settled down without argument.

“What about your real family? Are your parents still alive?”

She stroked Madi’s head. “They’re divorced. My mom is traveling right now so I don’t see much of her.”

“And your father?” The moment he asked the question he knew it was the wrong one.

Her smile faded like a light bulb on a dimmer switch. “I don’t see him, either. Good night, Ethan.” She stood up and walked toward the stairs without looking back, leaving him with the uncomfortable knowledge that he’d just asked the wrong question.





CHAPTER FOURTEEN


HARRIET TOOK A shower and slid into bed, even though she knew there was no chance of sleeping. Her mind was churning like the inside of a washing machine.

He’d asked her a question, that was all. Not even a particularly personal question.

And what had she done? Had she shifted the conversation to more comfortable territory? No. She’d bolted like Madi after a stick in the park.

His question might not have been personal, but she’d taken it personally. She’d let it release a flock of insecurities.

Infuriated and stressed, she reached for the book she’d tucked under her pillow.

Why was she so bad at conversation?

And why did she find it so awkward to talk about her parents?

Plenty of people had parents who were divorced. They’re divorced. That was all she needed to say. She didn’t need to deliver any more details. Ethan hadn’t wanted her life history, just a normal to and fro exchange of words.

But, no. She’d had to overreact.

Still clutching the book, she rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling.

It had been more than a decade since she’d left home.

The mere mention of her father shouldn’t send her pulse rate thumping and she certainly shouldn’t find it awkward to talk about it.