They liked me, I think.
Well, duh. Why else would they bring you all the way out to L.A.? What did you think about the hospital?
It’s really nice. It doesn’t look like the crappy public clinics we used to go to. They were usually understaffed and overcrowded, housed in buildings that looked as sad and worn out as the patients who waited inside.
Apparently the Sterling Medical Center isn’t just a safety-net clinic, but a fundraising organization. Every penny raised goes toward treating anybody who walks through the door, I write, regurgitating information from the first interview.
That’s so noble it’s positively obscene. They’re probably trying to hide something.
I snort a laugh. Only Bennie would be this cynical. But then, we didn’t have the kind of childhood most people have. When your parents fail you over and over again, it’s hard to trust anything—or anyone.
And Bennie hasn’t seen the facility. The brand-new six-story building gleams—big windows letting sunlight pour in, spotless floors and pristine walls covered with glossy posters promoting various ways to stay healthy on a budget. The air has a hint of disinfectant—like every other hospital in the world—and the sound system delivers soothing classical music at a low volume.
Robbie gave me a tour of the center. Doctors in white coats moved briskly, nurses and staff entering information onto slim tablets as they readied for the official opening. Everything at the medical center said money and top-class and our patients deserve the best.
“We take what we do very seriously,” Robbie said during the tour. “It’s a shame that in a country as wealthy as ours, we still have people who can’t afford basic medical care.”
“I know,” I said. “My family really struggled when I was growing up. Not much of a safety net.”
Well, Mom and I struggled. Dad lived fine—he was a rich man who pretended to be poor so he could have my mom as a cheaply kept mistress to fuck whenever he was in the mood. He had a family he provided for in style—his real wife and his real
daughter.
If we’d had better medical care, would Mom have let herself go? Died of an overdose? If she’d received help for depression, anger issues and substance abuse…would she have survived the heartbreak? She couldn’t handle it once she realized Dad would never marry her—that she was nice enough to fuck, but not good enough to wed.
Don’t be a cynic, B, I type and hit send. I want to work there.
You are so gonna work there. I can feel it in the soles of my feet.
I smile at his confidence, although I secretly think he’s probably right. During the initial phone interview, I asked, “Why are you recruiting someone who lives so far away? There must be people in L.A. who can start immediately. Not that I’m ungrateful—I love your mission and what you do, but I’m genuinely curious.”
It isn’t something I would’ve asked normally, but after the whole fiasco with Lucas, knowing that he was using me to acquire art, I really had to know. The hospital didn’t have to take Erin’s referral.
“We liked your résumé,” Robbie answered without missing a beat. “I especially liked your international experience, and the fact that you’ve overcome a lot to be where you are now, as you mentioned earlier. We want someone who’s seen and experienced what the people we’re serving have seen and experienced. We want someone with drive, but who’s also capable of empathy. Does that satisfy you?”
It did.
If they offer, you should take it, Bennie says. Unless you have something better in Charlottesville?
Nope, I respond. Actually, that isn’t entirely true. I have my foster parents Ray and Darcy McIntire…and Mia…but they aren’t enough to help me move on. And Lucas lives in the same closed community they do. Behind the same gates, within the same walls. Being that close to him…
I clench my jaw as pain blossoms again, starting from the center of my heart. It’s been weeks since I discovered his lies, but I hurt as though it just happened moments ago.
The worst thing is that I miss him. Every idle moment I think about throwing away my pride and self-esteem and running to him with open arms for another slice of sweet, poison-laced heaven.
What does that make me other than a contemptible, weak-willed creature? I swore I’d never let a man reduce me to that, but as long as Lucas is within easy reach, I’ll give in. I just know it.
I have to leave.
Chapter Four
Ava
The road is dark as I drive. It feels familiar somehow, but I’m not certain if I’ve ever driven here before. The grass along the edges is shaggy, like hair badly in need of a trim.
Then I see a car—a black Mercedes. Instinctively I know it belongs to a woman, someone beautiful, sophisticated and worthy of a man like Lucas.
My soul shrivels as it stops in front of his house, the engine cutting off. The door opens. I look away, not wanting to see…