to. Maybe she’ll find her on the very next page.
*
Reilly relaxed as Liz took her Audi through the tight, twisting turns of Lincoln Drive. She often worked weekends because work was a welcome respite from too many hours with nothing to do but think. This weekend, though, she was glad she was free.
She enjoyed the sensation of someone else being in control for a while. In the operating room, even in the dojang, she was always in charge. Responsible for others. It was nice not to have to do anything for a few minutes, and although they didn’t talk as Liz focused on the road, the silence was comfortable. The narrow road hugged Wissahickon Creek as it meandered northwest from Center City, and the air grew noticeably cooler and clearer as they traveled deeper into the huge stretch of parkland. At the speed Liz was going, they’d reach Reilly’s car in another few minutes. Reilly didn’t really want to get there. Thinking about the long day stretching before her, and the even longer night, and then almost another whole day before the late afternoon game Sunday, she felt a pang of loneliness. “What are you doing the rest of the day?” Reilly asked.
“I don’t know,” Liz replied, keeping her eyes on the road. “I can tell you what I’m not doing. I’m not going to the office. I might not even check my messages.”
Reilly laughed. “Sounds pretty rebellious.”
Liz flicked her left turn signal and veered onto the street where Reilly had left her car. “Actually, I expect Julia will have left messages or paperwork for me, or else had her attorney do it, considering she didn’t get any satisfaction from me this morning. When she wants something done, she’s relentless.”
“It has to be difficult. I’m sorry.”
“That’s nice of you to say.” Liz braked to the curb opposite the neighborhood bar and restaurant where the teams had gathered the night before. She cut the ignition and turned in her seat. “Considering I’m as much to blame as she is.”
“Were you having an affair too?” Reilly asked.
“Only with my caseload,” Liz said dryly, “but apparently some people consider work a form of infidelity.”
“I know these situations are always more complicated than they look,” Reilly said, “but I don’t see how you can blame yourself.”
“It’s probably not a bad thing,” Liz said, trying to make light of it. “A little self-reflection is good for the soul.”
Liz’s smile didn’t hide her sadness, and Reilly had an overwhelming urge to find the insane woman who had hurt her and shake her. On the other hand, she had absolutely no desire for Julia to reappear, which left her feeling very confused. Liz’s face was pale, her eyes softly wounded, and Reilly acted without thinking, spurred on by Liz’s sadness and her own familiar loneliness. She leaned across the narrow space between their seats and slid her arm around Liz’s shoulder. Liz’s lips parted in surprise, her searching eyes filled with questions.
“Like I said,” Reilly murmured, watching Liz’s irises deepen from pale green to forest darkness as she slowly lowered her mouth toward Liz’s.
Liz had never been so aware of being about to be kissed in her life. Her lips actually tingled. Reilly’s arm behind her back was tight as a steel band, and Reilly’s fingers, where they circled Liz’s upper arm, were hot. Reilly’s mouth would be hot, too, she was certain of it. Her dark eyes were molten, so intense that Liz shivered.
Reilly brushed her mouth over Liz’s, lightly but not at all tentatively. “Your ex was crazy to let you go.”
Liz skimmed her fingers along Reilly’s arm and over her shoulder to the back of her neck. She twisted a thick strand of dark hair between her fingers, resisting the desire to grasp a handful and drag Reilly’s body closer.
When Reilly groaned quietly, Liz parted her lips, allowing her entrance a tiny fraction. She was right, Reilly’s mouth was hot, her tongue softly
*
Reilly relaxed as Liz took her Audi through the tight, twisting turns of Lincoln Drive. She often worked weekends because work was a welcome respite from too many hours with nothing to do but think. This weekend, though, she was glad she was free.
She enjoyed the sensation of someone else being in control for a while. In the operating room, even in the dojang, she was always in charge. Responsible for others. It was nice not to have to do anything for a few minutes, and although they didn’t talk as Liz focused on the road, the silence was comfortable. The narrow road hugged Wissahickon Creek as it meandered northwest from Center City, and the air grew noticeably cooler and clearer as they traveled deeper into the huge stretch of parkland. At the speed Liz was going, they’d reach Reilly’s car in another few minutes. Reilly didn’t really want to get there. Thinking about the long day stretching before her, and the even longer night, and then almost another whole day before the late afternoon game Sunday, she felt a pang of loneliness. “What are you doing the rest of the day?” Reilly asked.
“I don’t know,” Liz replied, keeping her eyes on the road. “I can tell you what I’m not doing. I’m not going to the office. I might not even check my messages.”
Reilly laughed. “Sounds pretty rebellious.”
Liz flicked her left turn signal and veered onto the street where Reilly had left her car. “Actually, I expect Julia will have left messages or paperwork for me, or else had her attorney do it, considering she didn’t get any satisfaction from me this morning. When she wants something done, she’s relentless.”
“It has to be difficult. I’m sorry.”
“That’s nice of you to say.” Liz braked to the curb opposite the neighborhood bar and restaurant where the teams had gathered the night before. She cut the ignition and turned in her seat. “Considering I’m as much to blame as she is.”
“Were you having an affair too?” Reilly asked.
“Only with my caseload,” Liz said dryly, “but apparently some people consider work a form of infidelity.”
“I know these situations are always more complicated than they look,” Reilly said, “but I don’t see how you can blame yourself.”
“It’s probably not a bad thing,” Liz said, trying to make light of it. “A little self-reflection is good for the soul.”
Liz’s smile didn’t hide her sadness, and Reilly had an overwhelming urge to find the insane woman who had hurt her and shake her. On the other hand, she had absolutely no desire for Julia to reappear, which left her feeling very confused. Liz’s face was pale, her eyes softly wounded, and Reilly acted without thinking, spurred on by Liz’s sadness and her own familiar loneliness. She leaned across the narrow space between their seats and slid her arm around Liz’s shoulder. Liz’s lips parted in surprise, her searching eyes filled with questions.
“Like I said,” Reilly murmured, watching Liz’s irises deepen from pale green to forest darkness as she slowly lowered her mouth toward Liz’s.
Liz had never been so aware of being about to be kissed in her life. Her lips actually tingled. Reilly’s arm behind her back was tight as a steel band, and Reilly’s fingers, where they circled Liz’s upper arm, were hot. Reilly’s mouth would be hot, too, she was certain of it. Her dark eyes were molten, so intense that Liz shivered.
Reilly brushed her mouth over Liz’s, lightly but not at all tentatively. “Your ex was crazy to let you go.”
Liz skimmed her fingers along Reilly’s arm and over her shoulder to the back of her neck. She twisted a thick strand of dark hair between her fingers, resisting the desire to grasp a handful and drag Reilly’s body closer.
When Reilly groaned quietly, Liz parted her lips, allowing her entrance a tiny fraction. She was right, Reilly’s mouth was hot, her tongue softly
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