Love Irresistibly
Page 3
“I’m back,” she told Lindsey, her assistant, who sat at the desk outside Brooke’s office.
“A couple of calls came in while you were out,” Lindsey said. “The first one was from Justin. He asked that you call him back as soon as you get in.”
The message took Brooke somewhat by surprise. She and Justin, aka the Hot OB, had been dating for a little over four months now, and she could count on one hand the number of times she’d talked to him at the office. Both of them were always so busy during the day, it was simply easier to e-mail or text him on her way home from work. “Uh-oh. I hope he’s not calling to cancel tonight. We’ve got reservations at Rustic House,” she said, referring to a nearly-impossible-to-get-into restaurant on the north side that was not in the Sterling family.
“Traitor,” Lindsey said with a grin. She handed Brooke a piece of paper with a phone number on it. “And you also received a call from Cade Morgan at the U.S. Attorney’s Office.”
Now that got Brooke’s attention.
Just about anyone who followed the local news knew who Cade Morgan was. One of the top assistant U.S. attorneys in Chicago, he’d made a name for himself by prosecuting several high-profile government corruption cases—and, a little over a year ago, the famous “Twitter Terrorist” case that had garnered international attention. He had a reputation of being smart, disarmingly charming in front of judges and juries, and tough as nails against opposing counsel.
And what he might possibly want from Brooke, she had no clue.
“Did he say what this was in regards to?” Brooke asked.
“No. Only that he’d like you to call him back as soon as possible. He was very firm about that.”
This unexpected message from the U.S. Attorney’s Office had Brooke feeling a bit . . . uneasy. Cade Morgan was a prosecutor who handled big cases that got a lot of media attention. Whatever this was, it wasn’t a social call. And as general counsel for Sterling Restaurants, her hackles were up.
“Thanks, Lindsey.” Brooke went into her office and shut the door behind her, trying not to get too rattled by Morgan’s message. She didn’t know what he wanted, she reminded herself, so there wasn’t anything worth worrying about. Yet.
Never a dull moment, she thought again to herself as she settled in at her desk and unwrapped one of the tacos. Double-tasking per usual, she took a bite while dialing Justin’s number on speakerphone.
“Hey there,” she said when he answered his cell phone. “I wasn’t sure I’d actually catch you.” She could picture him looking cute in his scrubs right then—an easy image to conjure up since she’d seen him wearing them a few times late at night after one of his shifts.
“I stepped out of the office for a short break,” Justin said. His obstetrics practice was located a few blocks from Brooke’s office, which was nice if they wanted to meet for lunch. Although come to think of it, they’d only met for lunch once, back when they’d first started dating.
He sounded apologetic. “I just sent one of my patients to the hospital to be induced. She’s only a half-centimeter dilated, but she’s forty-one weeks with gestational diabetes. Since it’s her first baby, this could be a long night. Sorry to have to cancel on you like this.”
“Darn babies. Somebody needs to explain to them about date night,” Brooke said jokingly. While she was disappointed not to see Justin tonight, she understood that work conflicts sometimes came up. Heck, she’d had to reschedule two dates so far this month because of last-minute emergencies she’d needed to handle at the office.
“Yeah. Right.” He cleared his throat as if hesitant about whatever it was he wanted to say next. “You and I sure seem to be missing each other a lot these days.”
Aw, the Hot OB missed her. And he was right; it had been a busy month. She’d been in Los Angeles for nearly a week, working on the Staples Center deal, and then had been swamped trying to catch up with everything at work after that. Lately, it seemed the only times she and Justin were both free was between eleven P.M. and five A.M. “So let’s not miss each other tonight, even if we can’t do dinner,” she suggested. “Why don’t you text me when you’re finished at the hospital and come over to my place?”
“That’ll probably be around two A.M.”
“I know. But since that’s the only time we both seem to be available, it’s either that or nothing,” Brooke said.
“Yes, that certainly does seem to be how it works with us. Heaven forbid we ever go on an actual date.”
When she heard the frustration in his voice, Brooke got a sinking feeling in her stomach.
Not again.
She tried to smooth things over. “Look, I know that things have been crazy for me with these back-to-back deals in Los Angeles. You’re a doctor, you know how it is—your schedule is just as bad.” Admittedly, she was feeling a bit defensive right then, and felt the need to note that for the record.
He sighed. “I know. Tonight is my fault. And then next time, something will come up for you.”
“We talked about this when we first met.” Given her less-than-successful track record with relationships, she’d been up front with him from the beginning about the demands of her job.
“You’re right, we did,” he said. “And frankly, back then I thought I’d hit the jackpot. It was great that you never got mad when I had to cancel plans, or when I forgot to call. And you never complain that I don’t take you out enough. Hell, in some ways it’s like dating a guy.”
“A couple of calls came in while you were out,” Lindsey said. “The first one was from Justin. He asked that you call him back as soon as you get in.”
The message took Brooke somewhat by surprise. She and Justin, aka the Hot OB, had been dating for a little over four months now, and she could count on one hand the number of times she’d talked to him at the office. Both of them were always so busy during the day, it was simply easier to e-mail or text him on her way home from work. “Uh-oh. I hope he’s not calling to cancel tonight. We’ve got reservations at Rustic House,” she said, referring to a nearly-impossible-to-get-into restaurant on the north side that was not in the Sterling family.
“Traitor,” Lindsey said with a grin. She handed Brooke a piece of paper with a phone number on it. “And you also received a call from Cade Morgan at the U.S. Attorney’s Office.”
Now that got Brooke’s attention.
Just about anyone who followed the local news knew who Cade Morgan was. One of the top assistant U.S. attorneys in Chicago, he’d made a name for himself by prosecuting several high-profile government corruption cases—and, a little over a year ago, the famous “Twitter Terrorist” case that had garnered international attention. He had a reputation of being smart, disarmingly charming in front of judges and juries, and tough as nails against opposing counsel.
And what he might possibly want from Brooke, she had no clue.
“Did he say what this was in regards to?” Brooke asked.
“No. Only that he’d like you to call him back as soon as possible. He was very firm about that.”
This unexpected message from the U.S. Attorney’s Office had Brooke feeling a bit . . . uneasy. Cade Morgan was a prosecutor who handled big cases that got a lot of media attention. Whatever this was, it wasn’t a social call. And as general counsel for Sterling Restaurants, her hackles were up.
“Thanks, Lindsey.” Brooke went into her office and shut the door behind her, trying not to get too rattled by Morgan’s message. She didn’t know what he wanted, she reminded herself, so there wasn’t anything worth worrying about. Yet.
Never a dull moment, she thought again to herself as she settled in at her desk and unwrapped one of the tacos. Double-tasking per usual, she took a bite while dialing Justin’s number on speakerphone.
“Hey there,” she said when he answered his cell phone. “I wasn’t sure I’d actually catch you.” She could picture him looking cute in his scrubs right then—an easy image to conjure up since she’d seen him wearing them a few times late at night after one of his shifts.
“I stepped out of the office for a short break,” Justin said. His obstetrics practice was located a few blocks from Brooke’s office, which was nice if they wanted to meet for lunch. Although come to think of it, they’d only met for lunch once, back when they’d first started dating.
He sounded apologetic. “I just sent one of my patients to the hospital to be induced. She’s only a half-centimeter dilated, but she’s forty-one weeks with gestational diabetes. Since it’s her first baby, this could be a long night. Sorry to have to cancel on you like this.”
“Darn babies. Somebody needs to explain to them about date night,” Brooke said jokingly. While she was disappointed not to see Justin tonight, she understood that work conflicts sometimes came up. Heck, she’d had to reschedule two dates so far this month because of last-minute emergencies she’d needed to handle at the office.
“Yeah. Right.” He cleared his throat as if hesitant about whatever it was he wanted to say next. “You and I sure seem to be missing each other a lot these days.”
Aw, the Hot OB missed her. And he was right; it had been a busy month. She’d been in Los Angeles for nearly a week, working on the Staples Center deal, and then had been swamped trying to catch up with everything at work after that. Lately, it seemed the only times she and Justin were both free was between eleven P.M. and five A.M. “So let’s not miss each other tonight, even if we can’t do dinner,” she suggested. “Why don’t you text me when you’re finished at the hospital and come over to my place?”
“That’ll probably be around two A.M.”
“I know. But since that’s the only time we both seem to be available, it’s either that or nothing,” Brooke said.
“Yes, that certainly does seem to be how it works with us. Heaven forbid we ever go on an actual date.”
When she heard the frustration in his voice, Brooke got a sinking feeling in her stomach.
Not again.
She tried to smooth things over. “Look, I know that things have been crazy for me with these back-to-back deals in Los Angeles. You’re a doctor, you know how it is—your schedule is just as bad.” Admittedly, she was feeling a bit defensive right then, and felt the need to note that for the record.
He sighed. “I know. Tonight is my fault. And then next time, something will come up for you.”
“We talked about this when we first met.” Given her less-than-successful track record with relationships, she’d been up front with him from the beginning about the demands of her job.
“You’re right, we did,” he said. “And frankly, back then I thought I’d hit the jackpot. It was great that you never got mad when I had to cancel plans, or when I forgot to call. And you never complain that I don’t take you out enough. Hell, in some ways it’s like dating a guy.”
