Mrs. Ross chided. “Scott picked it out especially for you.”
Could he feel any more awkward? Yet as the parents beamed at him with gratitude, the feeling fragmented. He took the velvet bag Mr. Ross held out and tipped the contents onto his palm.
“It’s Saint Luke,” Mrs. Ross said. “Patron Saint of Physicians. We got it on Naxos. They make them from the crumbling stones of the Gateway to the Gods.”
“It’s beautiful,” he said, turning the cool stone figurine over in his fingers. Intricate carvings detailed the ancient saint’s intricately folded robe and beard. He had a beatific expression on his lined face and he held a thick book in his hand.
A wave of emotion hit the back of Matt’s throat. “Tell Scotty it’s perfect.”
“We will. You know he wants to be a doctor when he grows up?”
He nodded. “He’ll make a good one.”
After another hug and handshake, they left. And Matt was left standing there in the cool corridor, completely undone.
He remembered everything so clearly, every moment he’d spent in their company, deflecting their grief and uncertainty with hard facts, then with uncomplicated amusing stories of his sister’s travels. They were good people, easy to talk to and relax around. Eventually conversation had turned to his own hopes, his plans to travel and see the world—plans that were merely a pipe dream considering his insane workload and commitment to the hospital. And the Rosses had regaled him with their ten-year-old’s antics, his love of science and classic Doctor Who episodes, his obsession with all things ancient.
Had it really been four years ago? The desire had been planted then, only months before his brother Jack’s death, before his life had taken a one-eighty and he’d turned his back on his parents’ demands, his career and his marriage.
Matt dragged a hand through his hair and stared down the long corridor. He’d finally seen the world, been to places he’d desperately wanted to go. He’d spent a whole year doing nothing except experiencing life. These days, GEM ensured his travel bug was sufficiently fed: he handpicked his assignments and delegated the rest to his capable staff.
He’d achieved all his goals. Well, except one. One deep desire that burned in the back of his mind, one so powerful that it had contributed to his marriage’s downfall, turned Katrina so bitter and angry that she’d demanded way more in the divorce than she was legally entitled to. Wracked with guilt, he’d given it to her.
I don’t want kids. She’d made that clear from the very start. And he’d agreed. He’d witnessed the devastation of losing a child, seen the agony and pain every day. You couldn’t escape it in a place like this. Plus, where would they find the time to devote to parenthood? Their entire lives revolved around equally demanding careers.
Then Jack had died and life as he knew it came crashing to a halt.
No, Katrina had said calmly when he’d broached the subject. I told you. We agreed.
I know, he’d replied, unable to meet her accusing eyes. But I’ve changed my mind.
She’d sighed. Look, we should take a break. I’ll get Kylie to book us a holiday.... We could spend a few days in Bali—
I don’t want a holiday, he’d shot back. I want you to consider us having a baby.
Oh, the look he’d gotten from that! And when she’d slowly crossed her arms in that I’m-tired-of-this-topic way of hers, he knew before she opened her mouth that his marriage was over.
That will never, ever happen, Matthew.
His phone beeped, breaking into his thoughts. He glanced at it. He was five minutes late. Katrina hated tardiness.
With a sigh, he approached the conference room door and knocked, then walked straight on in.
“I’m sorry...do you have another meeting, Matthew?”
Matt glanced up from his watch to meet Katrina’s cool gaze before leaning back in his seat and crossing his ankles beneath the conference table. “No.”
Suddenly Matt and his ex-wife were the sole focus of attention in the room as the department heads’ soft chatter came to a halt. Matthew remained impassive in the silence. Sure, for most of the staff his history with Katrina was a nonissue, but there were a few who gleefully anticipated a domestic incident every time they assembled to discuss his company’s staffing needs, which Saint Cat’s played a large part in fulfilling.
They obviously didn’t know her. Or him. Their divorce had been polite, dispassionate and completely professional—just like their marriage.
He cocked one eyebrow up, inviting her to press the issue. She blinked a slow and icy dismissal before continuing with the agenda.
He furtively eyed his watch again. Half past one. Jeez, he hated these meetings. Every year admin rehashed the same concerns about working with GEM—low staff numbers, budgetary constraints, rostering conflicts—before finally signing on the dotted line. So as Katrina’s people squabbled over the same issues, he stared out the window and let his thoughts drift back to AJ.
Five days had passed. Five days of meetings, flights and a hundred other professional commitments that had succeeded in keeping his mind firmly on work. Not on a certain redhead who’d invaded his downtime and strengthened his interest despite her unceremonious rejection.
He shifted in his chair and crossed his arms, his gaze going to the stunning view of Sydney Harbour out the window of the twentieth-floor conference room.
Man, he’d been right, though. AJ had changed. She’d gone from a spontaneous free spirit to...what? She’d never talked about her dreams, her wants. Never even mentioned family. Until the wedding he’d had no idea she had a sister. Yet they’d been together six months. Surely they’d talked, right?
What he knew about her could fit on the head of a pin. Prior to working at the local café near his Central Coast house, she’d traveled up and down Australia from northern Queensland to Victoria, doing seasonal fruit picking, waitressing and cleaning. Her nomadic existence fascinated him, given all his plans and constant schedules.
He remembered calling her on his last shift and, no matter what the time, she’d be on his doorstep when he got home. They’d end up in bed, then eat, make love some more, and in the morning she’d be gone. And then there was the way he’d handled their breakup, which was, he admitted, sudden and with little finesse.
No wonder she shut you down.
When the meeting broke up ten minutes later, Matt sighed in relief and headed straight out the door, checking his phone messages as he went. Delete. Delete. Answer. Ignore.
He stopped abruptly, staring at the screen.
AJ was at GEM. He checked the time of his office manager’s text, then his watch. She’d been waiting in his office for two hours.
“Now that’s interesting,” he murmured.
A burst of anticipation quickened his blood, and he frowned. Forget it. You took a cold shower, spent the rest of the day in a black mood then moved on.
Apparently not.
* * *
He’d barely got a handle on his curiosity when he pushed through his office door at GEM’s Mascot headquarters half an hour later.
He paused, noting her small start before she swiveled in her seat and looked up at him with wide blue eyes. Tellingly, she’d chosen the rigid-backed visitor’s chair next to his desk instead of the comfy sofa flanking the far wall.
“Hi, Matt.”
He let silence do the talking as he cataloged her appearance, from the worn blue denims, plain white V-neck