Surprise Delivery(61)

“But you are,” he insists. “Your very fucking presence is interfering in my world.”

I’m holding myself in check, but he’s really pushing it. I have my limits to how much shit I’ll take from a person, and Brad is definitely reaching the upper threshold of that limit. It’s tough to feel sympathy and compassion for a guy who’s just an outrageous asshole.

“Why can’t you go away again?” he asks. “Why don’t you just go back to Syria and make everybody’s life easier.”

“Make everybody’s life easier?” I repeat, getting dangerously close to that red line in my mind. “You mean your life, don’t you?”

“No, I mean everybody’s life. Alexis is better off when you’re half a world away, I don’t have to deal with the Duncan this, Duncan that, bullshit,” he sneers, as a slow, malicious grin slides across his face. “And you don’t have to worry about running into Alexis and being tormented by something you’ll never have.”

I’m trying to hold my shit together, but Brad is not making it easy. He’s really pushing me. I step closer to him, narrowing my eyes. He flinches, and I can see him fighting himself, forcing himself to stand fast, rather than show weakness by taking a step back from me.

“That’s not my problem,” I growl. “If you’re not enough to keep her attention and keep her from thinking about me, that’s on you, Brad.”

“You have no –”

“No, it’s on you,” I repeat, my tone low and menacing. “Out of respect for you and for her, I’ve kept my distance. I have done nothing to interfere in your life or your relationship. So, if there are problems, you need to get your own house in order instead of coming down here and whining at me like it’s my fault.”

His expression darkens, and he looks like I slapped him across the face. Yeah, the truth is a real bitch, isn’t it?

“I’m warning you, Duncan,” he says, trying – and failing – to sound intimidating. “Stay away from her. She’s mine. Not yours.”

“She’s yours,” I mock. “What is she to you, property?”

He looks taken aback for a moment but quickly gathers himself. “You know what I mean,” he stammers. “Just stay the hell away from her.”

I chuckle and shake my head. He’s clearly not hearing me. I hadn’t even planned on seeing Alexis. But now, I may look her up, if for no other reason than to piss him off.

“Or what, Brad?”

His expression is one of confusion, as if I suddenly started speaking Greek to him or something. “What do you mean?”

God, this guy is dumb. “You warned me. Which, to me, implies some sort of a threat,” I say. “So, if I don’t stay away from her, what are you going to do about it?”

Brad and I are around the same height, but I’ve got about fifty pounds of muscle on the guy. Yeah, I may have grown up in comfort and privilege, but I know how to take care of myself. If it came down to it, I know I’d be pretty good in a fight.

Not that I think Brad is going to take a swing at me. He’s dumb, but he’s not quite that dumb. He has to know he’d come out on the losing end of that one.

“Ju – just stay away from her, Duncan,” he stutters, trying to regain his composure. “Stay the hell away from all of us.”

With that, he turns and briskly walks away from me, heading for the elevators. I stand there for a moment and shake my head. I wonder what Alexis would say or do if she knew he’d come to pay me a visit and deliver a warning to me. There’s a part of me that wants to give her a call and tell her what happened, just to be spiteful. I’m not one who responds well to threats, and I sure as hell won’t be intimidated by somebody like Brad.

Letting out a long, irritated breath, I turn and head back to my office. I need a few minutes of quiet alone time just to clear my head. I have to check in on some patients, but I don’t want to do it as wound up as I am right now. I need to calm down and gather myself before I see or talk to anybody.

Closing my office door behind me, I drop into my seat heavily. I pick up the mug of coffee sitting on the blotter – it’s cold by now – but I take a long swallow anyway.

I understand why Brad is so upset. I get it. And on some levels, I can’t blame the guy. I mean, it has to suck to have the woman you love all hung up on somebody else. But on the other hand, blaming me and getting in my face about it isn’t the way to go about fixing it.

It’s his problem, not mine.

At the same time, I know that I’m as hung up on her as she apparently is on me – and that’s not doing either one of us any favors. I need to get my mind off of her and channel all of my energy somewhere else. If I can’t be with her, if I can’t have her, I might just - well, I’m not sure what I’m going to do.

With a sigh, I pull out my cellphone and punch in a number. I almost hang up before the call connects but force myself to put the phone to my ear as the call is going through. He picks up on the second ring.

“Henry,” I say. “It’s Duncan.”





We’re sitting at a restaurant called Byard’s later that night. It’s an upscale place in the Upper East Side that has decent food and an okay atmosphere. Though it’s not my favorite place in the city, I made the reservations on Henry’s suggestion. He felt I needed to make the right impression. Always concerned about image, that guy.