glanced up from a plate of pasta and scallops to meet her mother’s gaze across the small table. “Who?”
There was an excited gleam in Vonda’s almond-shaped eyes, which Tamara had inherited—along with her mother’s high cheekbones, chocolate complexion, chestnut-colored hair and lithe, curvy physique. They looked so much alike that men often hit on them at the same time, claiming to mistake them for sisters. Considering that Vonda had only been seventeen when she gave birth to Tamara, it was no surprise that she looked young enough to pass for her twenty-six-year-old daughter’s twin. But as close as she and Tamara were, there’d never been any question of who was the parent and who was the child. After Tamara’s father skipped out on them, Vonda had dried her tears and staunchly committed herself to the task of raising a strong, fiercely independent woman who would never make the mistake of trusting the wrong man.
Tamara owed everything she was, and everything she would become, to her mother.
“Well?” she prompted when Vonda didn’t immediately respond, no doubt trying to draw out the suspense. “Who did you run into?”
“Your high school sweetheart, Morris Richmond.”
“Really?” Tamara exclaimed. “Where’d you see him?”
“At work.”
“Morris works at the Pentagon, too?”
“As of last month. He got a job as a systems analyst for one of the defense contractors, and he’s making good money.” Vonda smiled at her daughter. “Of course he asked about you. I told him you’re doing your residency at Hopewell General. He was very impressed, said he always knew you were going places. Don’t be surprised if he shows up at the hospital one day. You wouldn’t mind, would you?”
“Not at all,” Tamara said easily. “I’ve often wondered how Morris was doing. It’d be nice to see him again.”
Her mother grinned. “He’s looking good, baby. Real good.”
Tamara chuckled, sipping her cold soda. “I’m not surprised. He was one of the cutest boys at school.”
“The smartest, too.” Nostalgia softened Vonda’s expression. “You two were such an adorable couple. I remember how Morris used to come over after school sometimes to study with you. I never had to worry about leaving you alone together, because you were both so studious and focused on your books. Acing your calculus exam was more important to you than getting inside each other’s drawers.”
“That’s what you think.” At her mother’s shocked look, Tamara laughed. “Just kidding, Ma. We never abused your trust like that.”
Vonda harrumphed. “I didn’t think so. I raised you better than that, and Morris was such a sweet, respectful young man. I really liked him.”
Tamara gave her a wry look. “Let’s not forget that he’s also the same one who broke up with me after I was named valedictorian over him.”
“He did, didn’t he?” Vonda pursed her lips for a moment, then shook her head. “It takes a very special man not to be intimidated by a strong, brilliant woman with a higher IQ. You’re a force to be reckoned with, darling. Any man you eventually marry will have to be very successful in his own right so he won’t feel threatened by you.”
For no discernible reason, Tamara thought of Victor, who’d graduated at the top of his class from Stanford and seemed destined to make his mark in the field of cardiothoracic surgery. For all his faults—and he had plenty—Tamara knew that he would never feel threatened by a smart, accomplished woman. He was more than secure in his manhood, and would view someone like her as his equal.
Not that we’re ever going to be in a relationship, she quickly told herself.
“So how are things going at work?” her mother asked, twirling strands of linguini around her fork before taking a bite. “What’s the latest on the lawsuit?”
Tamara grimaced at the reminder of the hospital’s brewing scandal. “They’ve hired someone from New York to handle the lawsuit—some hotshot lawyer named Maxwell Wade,” she explained, though she and her colleagues had been instructed not to discuss the case with outsiders. But this was her mother, whom she’d always confided in. And details of the lawsuit had already been leaked to the media anyway.
“It sounds like your employer is going to need the best legal counsel money can buy,” Vonda remarked.
Tamara nodded grimly. “They are.”
After graduating from Dartmouth, she’d been so excited to return home to Alexandria to begin her residency at Hopewell General, a prestigious hospital that catered to the nation’s power elite. But Hopewell’s stellar reputation had recently come under fire after one of Tamara’s fellow interns, Terrence Matthews, had been shown the door when he was caught stealing drugs from the hospital’s pharmacy. Unfortunately, Terrence was a member of one of Virginia’s wealthiest families, who’d retaliated against the hospital by withdrawing their financial support and filing a lawsuit. The public relations fallout and pending litigation had cast a pall over Hopewell General, putting everyone—from administrators to orderlies—on edge.
“The Matthews family is one of our biggest benefactors,” Tamara continued, poking disinterestedly at her tender scallops. “Losing their financial contributions could really cripple the hospital. They’ve already halted construction on a wing that’s been undergoing renovations for months.”
Vonda frowned with concern. “What about your research grant? How will that be affected?”
Tamara sighed heavily. “I don’t know yet. The hospital’s funding committee is supposed to be meeting tomorrow to decide the fate of several projects, including the research grant. So I should know something by the end of the week.”
Her mother reached across the table and patted her hand. “Think positive.”
Tamara nodded, even as Victor’s deep voice drifted through her mind. Think positive, he’d told her last night when they were searching for an unlocked room in the deserted ward. Since leaving the hospital that morning, she’d been trying to put the whole experience out of her mind. But she couldn’t. Waking up in the arms of her nemesis shouldn’t have felt so damn right. But it had, and she was afraid to examine why.
“No wonder you haven’t been yourself today,” her mother observed, watching as Tamara absently swirled her fork through a puddle of lemon cream sauce. “Ever since you arrived for lunch, you’ve seemed preoccupied with something.”
Or someone, Tamara mused grimly.
“But your mood makes sense now,” Vonda continued. “You’re worried about losing the research grant.”
“Well, technically,” Tamara said ruefully, “I can’t lose something I haven’t received yet.”
Vonda smiled indulgently. “I’m sure you’re going to get the grant.”
“I don’t know, Ma. Victor has as good a shot as I do. His research related to cardiac arrhythmia surgery is pretty amazing. Potentially groundbreaking, in fact.”
Vonda’s sculpted brows lifted in surprise. “Are my ears deceiving me? Did you just say something complimentary about Dr. Aguilar?”
Tamara shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “I’ve said nice things about him before.”
Vonda snorted. “Calling him an ‘egomaniac,’ a ‘narcissistic asshole,’ and a ‘blue-eyed devil’ doesn’t exactly qualify as nice.”
Tamara grinned sheepishly. “Okay, then. Let me go on record as saying that he’s also a brilliant doctor, one that I admire and respect immensely.”
Her mother stared at her for so long, Tamara was tempted to fidget in her chair the way she’d done as a child whenever she was caught doing something she wasn’t supposed to.
As