Private Practice

chapter Sixteen


Ellie stared into her bedroom mirror and adjusted the strapless top of the short, red scarf of a dress she’d chosen as her drive-Roger-wild outfit—just one more detail of her meticulously orchestrated evening. During the past forty-eight hours she’d reaffirmed her ability to push distractions aside, stay the course, and stick to a damn plan. Of course, it helped that she’d had a zillion things to accomplish in preparation for tonight.

No time for worries about where Frank had been Saturday evening when she’d stopped by, or hours later when she’d driven past his darkened house on her way home from Tyler’s. She’d shoved those concerns to the back burner and strategized every nuance of her date with Roger, from the menu, to her outfit, to, most importantly, which chapters she’d employ to prove she was his ideal woman.

Whenever her irrational internal debate about what, if anything, Tyler had thought of her heat-of-passion outburst Saturday night threatened to interrupt her efforts, she’d ruthlessly silenced those voices. The questions had absolutely no bearing on tonight. He didn’t belong in her head. Right now she needed to give her entire focus to her Win Roger Plan, because tonight’s date represented a critical milestone.

She touched up her makeup and ticked through her mental checklist for the evening. Seductive hair? Check. The tousled updo artfully suggested she’d just gotten out of bed and could be talked back in with very little effort. Enticing outfit? Check. The wispy little dress looked like a stiff breeze could blow it off. The super-high red heels she’d bought to go with it screamed “Screw me. Now.” Basically, she’d never worn a sexier ensemble in her life.

Too bad she’d never felt less sexy, or more nauseous. Nerves or…something…had sunk a cold ball of dread in the pit of her stomach. The ball rolled uneasily every time she thought about Roger here, in her bedroom, or the two of them delving into any of the chapters she’d mastered. Performance anxiety? Maybe. She blotted the sweat on her forehead and told herself to calm down.

Then the doorbell chimed and calm officially left the building. She forced her lips into a smile and hurried to the door.

Roger stood there, pale under his golden tan, hands smoothing his white linen shirt over his khaki pants.

“Hello, Roger. Please come in.” God, she sounded like an undertaker.

“Thanks. Oh, my goodness.” He blushed to the roots of his hair. “You look so…gosh, what’s the word?”

For some reason, his stammering reaction only ratcheted up her tension. She felt like she was sitting on a roller coaster perched at the top of the very first drop, and suddenly realized she didn’t want to take the plunge. All this time she’d been following her plan, so bent on achieving her goal that she’d ignored every click of conscience warning her she was going farther and farther along the wrong track. The Roger she wanted was a fantasy of her own creation, not a real man. In reality she barely knew the man standing on her doorstep, and she certainly wasn’t in love with him.

“Ellie, I think maybe you’ve got the wrong—”

“Roger, I’m so sorry, but I can’t—”

Their words overlapped and they both stopped short, leaving a deafening silence. Roger broke it with a weak laugh. “Sorry. Ladies first.”

“No, I’m the sorry one.” She sighed and let out a long breath. “I know you’re expecting wild, Slap & Tickle-style sex tonight—and I wanted you to think that’s exactly the kind of woman I am—but I’m not and, I’m sorry, I just can’t. I’m an idiot for dragging you out here under false pretenses.”

She glanced at him from beneath her lashes, surprised to see his jaw relax and a faint smile tug at his lips. “I think when it comes to false pretenses, I win the prize.”

“I don’t understand.”

“No, but you deserve to. Can we sit down and talk?”

So much for hostess of the year. “Of course,” she said quickly, and led him into the front room, turning on lights as she went and blowing out the ridiculous candles she’d placed everywhere. They sat on the sofa, facing each other. If he noticed the soft, sax-heavy music oozing from the sound system or the iced bottle of champagne and duo of flutes on the end table, he didn’t comment. Instead he took her hand in his and stared into her eyes. “I didn’t ask to see you tonight because I expected for us to have sex. I’m…” He exhaled and looked away. “This is harder than I imagined.”

She put a hand on his arm. “You can tell me anything.”

His eyes met hers again. “I’m gay.”

Gay? Roger was gay? Her mind went blank, and then replayed a montage of scenes that took on new and completely obvious meaning. She remembered how wistfully he’d spoken about his friend from New York the evening she’d removed his splinter, and how uncomfortable he’d been introducing Doug at Slap & Tickle. Lord, she’d been so blind.

“You and Doug?”

He nodded. “Yes. I’m sorry. I thought you figured it out the night you saw us together at Slap & Tickle. Doug said no, but I was paranoid. We both realized Tyler knew, and I figured he’d out me, though I shouldn’t have. He’s not that kind of person. When you and I spoke the next morning at Jiffy Java, your responses made me think you knew. That’s why I asked if we could get together and talk. I wanted to explain—to tell you I’m trying really hard to keep my orientation private. Hardly anyone here knows.”

“But…Melody?”

Roger offered a pained smile. “Yes, she knows. Knew before I did, actually. She asked me a couple years ago if maybe I was gay. I didn’t want to be, and I didn’t want to let her go, so I told her no. But when I moved home earlier this year, I couldn’t hide from the truth anymore. I missed Doug so much, even though we never…I mean, I was engaged to Melody and I always honored our commitment, in body if not in heart. She saw my misery, though, and for obvious reasons our relationship wasn’t exactly her dream come true either. So I finally opened up to her about everything. We talked, cried, promised we’d always be friends, and then we called off our engagement.”

His eyes glistened as he talked, and Ellie got an instant picture of how painful the last few months had been for him. And Melody. God, she owed Melody a huge apology for misunderstanding her reaction. All she’d been trying to do was prevent Ellie from embarrassing herself.

This is what you get for eavesdropping, her conscience chimed in, reminding her why she’d hatched the whole insane plan in the first place. “When I got back into town, one of the first things I heard, well, overheard technically, was that you two broke up because you wanted a high-adventure sex life and Melody didn’t.”

“Yeah, the story was Mel’s idea. We both knew the news of our broken engagement would cause a rustle in the local grapevine. After a ten-year engagement, an explanation like ‘It just didn’t work out’ doesn’t quite satisfy people. She thought spreading the rumor about my wild, insatiable sexual appetites would distract the rumor mill and help me keep the real reason under wraps. I’m truly sorry, Ellie. I never dreamed you had any romantic interest in me, or I would have been honest with you right away.”

“Don’t apologize. I had the truth staring me in the face and chose not to see it because I was too busy chasing a fairy tale.”

“Now I don’t understand.”

“It’s hard to explain, even to myself, but I created an idealized image of you in my mind, based strictly on my needs, and I wouldn’t let little things like reality intrude. I thought if you and I fell in love, we’d live happily ever after and…poof…all the frustrations and disappointments in my life would magically disappear. You come from such a perfect, loving family, and I wanted to be part of one so badly, I put together an elaborate scheme to win you. I tried to change myself into your fantasy woman.”

“Sweetie.” He rubbed her arm. “My family isn’t perfect. We’re no prize. One of the reasons I’m paranoid about news of my being gay leaking is because I’m pretty sure Dad would have a coronary. Mom would go straight to Bluelick Baptist and pray. I’m too much of a coward to tell them the truth, but I’m too selfish to stay here pretending to be something I’m not. Instead, I’ll disappoint them by moving back to New York, and they’ll never understand why. They’ll think I rejected their love and everything they worked so hard to give me, when in reality, I don’t deserve it.”

She took his hands and waited until his tortured eyes locked on hers. “You deserve the things they want to give you, including their love. You’re a good son, a talented lawyer, and a compassionate person. But you’re also an adult, entitled to lead your own life. Lead it honestly and proudly. Tell your folks. Their reaction might surprise you. But more importantly, you’ll respect yourself.”

He blinked hard and swallowed. “You sound just like Melody.”

“Melody’s awfully smart.” Ellie squeezed his arm and then rose.

Roger rose as well and followed her to the front door. He paused at the threshold. “There’s something I’m curious about.”

“What’s that?”

“You thought Melody and I broke up because I wanted, as you put it, a high-adventure sex life, and you decided to turn yourself into the kind of woman who could deliver high adventure. I’m wondering exactly how you went about that?”

She winced. “Believe me, it wasn’t easy. I had a lot to learn.” Tyler’s sexy grin popped into her head.

“Was visiting Slap & Tickle with Tyler part of the learning curve, by any chance?”

Heat swept into her cheeks. “Yes. Poor Tyler. I made him give me lessons on how to drive a man wild.”

Roger’s eyes widened and then he fanned his face. “When you come up with a plan, you don’t mess around, do you? Go straight to the hottest guy in town and say, ‘Show me the ropes!’”

He looked so astounded and impressed she had to laugh. “Yeah, I’m a real class act.”

“Class-schmass. If I was single and could think of a way to convince Tyler to show me the ropes, I’d do it in a heartbeat. But, unfortunately, he’s not into me, so he’d find a charming way to turn me down, because under the cocky exterior, he’s a decent, fundamentally good guy.”

He was all of those things and much more. She couldn’t deny the truth anymore…she loved him. But Saturday night, when her feelings had bubbled to the surface, she’d run away like a scared little girl, hell-bent on chasing her fairy tale instead of taking a real-life risk on happily ever after.

“Interestingly,” Roger went on, “he didn’t turn you down, so I’m guessing he is into you.”

“I don’t know.” Making guesses about Tyler’s motives caused a flood of guilt and anxiety. She prayed his offer to talk still stood.

Roger grinned, a little mischievously. “He showed you the ropes, didn’t he?”

She couldn’t suppress a smile. “He sure did.”

“Now you’re just bragging, so I’m going to take off. Thanks for being so understanding. I hope we’re still friends.”

“Absolutely.” Framed by the doorway, she rose onto her tiptoes and hugged him. He hugged back, wrapping his big arms around her and pulling her close.

“Give me one of those ‘show me the ropes’ kisses, Sparky,” he whispered. “It’s the closest I’ll ever come to kissing Tyler.”

Laughing, she cupped Roger’s cheeks, stared into his magnificent blue eyes, and planted a big, fat kiss on his lips. Good-bye, handsome prince. He swept her into a dramatic dip. She squealed and held onto him.

He raised his head and he winked at her. “Wow. You’re one lucky woman. And something tells me if he plays his cards right, Tyler’s one lucky guy.”

An engine revved, interrupting her reply. Even from her upside-down vantage point in Roger’s arms, she could make out the blur of a motorcycle racing away.

“Oh, shit.” Roger slowly straightened. “Mr. Lucky just raced off into the night. I think maybe he got the wrong idea. Want me to go after him and explain?”

Shit. Shit. Shit! She tamped down the panic threatening to choke her and shook her head. “No, I need to talk to him about…a lot of things. This is mine to fix.”

“Okay.” He touched her cheek lightly and then stepped away. “Let me know how things turn out. I’m rooting for you.”

“Same goes. I’m rooting for you, too, no matter what you decide to do.”

He smiled and headed out into the warm summer night. Inside the house, Beethoven’s Fifth sounded. With a final wave, she went in and answered the phone.

She didn’t usually get calls in the evening except from her service. The display, however, read “Unknown Number.” As soon as she picked up, a hesitant female voice said, “Dr. Swann?”

“Yes, this is she.”

“Hello, Dr. Swann. My name is Sharon Greene. I’m a friend of your father’s. I’m sorry to ambush you this way, but I need to let you know Lexington Memorial Hospital admitted him this evening after he became ill at our meeting.”

“Oh, God. Is he okay? What’s the diagnosis?” She cursed herself for not calling him yesterday. He probably wouldn’t have picked up, but still, she should have tried.

“I don’t know, Dr. Swann. He gave me your name and number before the paramedics took him away, and asked me to call you. Can you come?”

“I’m on my way.”