Just One Last Night.... Amy Andrews

arm back. She would not break down in front of Brent.

      In a public cafeteria.

      For God’s sake, she hadn’t seen him in two decades!

       It was ridiculous.

      And if she started to cry now, she didn’t know if she could stop. And then he would haul her into his arms and the way she was feeling right now, she’d go willingly.

      Absurdly, he’d been the one she’d secretly craved most after Julie’s death. Having him so near now was dangerous. Her life was complicated. Chaotic.

      There wasn’t room for any more.

      ‘Thank you,’ she said stiffly, refusing to acknowledge the flash of emotion she saw in his hazel eyes at her rejection of his touch.

      ‘What happened?’

      Grace filled him in briefly on the accident. ‘Doug died instantly,’ she concluded. ‘Julie was cut free but died shortly after arriving at the Royal.’

      Brent frowned. ‘I must have been on holidays when it happened.’ He thought back. Yes, he had been. He’d gone skiing in France with friends. ‘I wish I’d been there when she came in.’

      Grace sucked in a husky breath. She wished he had too. It would have made it somehow easier to bear to know that Julie had had a familiar face with her that night. To know that maybe she might not have been so frightened.

      It should have been her.

      If she’d been there, maybe she could have saved her sister. Maybe Brent could have.

      ‘Me too.’

      Brent nodded. She was hugging herself now, so removed, so shut down. It was clear she was hurting and it killed him. He’d do anything to take her pain from her. But she was as closed off, as forbidding as that day she’d told him she was leaving and excised him from her life.

      And it hit him—any thoughts he’d been harbouring deep down that they might have a chance at rekindling their relationship were utter fancy.

       She was no closer to committing now than she had been back then.

      And he was no sadist. In the aftermath of their devastating break-up and two failed marriages he’d hardened his heart to relationships and happily settled into a life of playing the field.

      After a childhood of being pushed from pillar to post, Brent knew all about loving the one you were with.

      He wasn’t about to lose his head to her a second time. She’d walked away last time. And he was damned if he was going to allow nostalgia open the door to her again.

      ‘I wish I’d known,’ he said, falling back on polite socially acceptable conversation. ‘I know it’s probably too late but is there anything I can do …’

      Grace shook her head. ‘You already have. I’m very thankful that you offered me this job when I didn’t get yours. Not many places offer part-time work at my level and I really appreciate it.’

      Grace had been devastated when she’d been informed she hadn’t been successful. And had rejected Brent’s job offer that had come soon after. But then Tash had gone AWOL after school a few days later, scaring the absolute daylights out of her, and as much as she knew it would be challenging for them to work together again, she’d known she needed to come home.

      So she’d swallowed her pride and emailed him.

      He shrugged. ‘I want the Central’s emergency department to be the best. It makes sense to hire the best.’

      Grace paused, trying to decide whether to mention the elephant in the room or not. But she’d always believed in tackling things head on. ‘I appreciate that it’s not easy, given our history. I know it’ll be awkward to start with.’

      Brent nodded. Then he held out his hand. If they set the boundaries at the beginning, they’d both be on the same page. ‘So let’s make a pact. The past is the past. Today is a new page. Friends?’

      Grace’s heart thunked in her chest as her hand slid into his and his warmth flowed up her arm and through her body. ‘Friends.’

      Brent felt it too and quickly withdrew his hand. ‘We kinda skipped that part, didn’t we?’

      Grace gave a half-smile. They certainly had.

      She suddenly felt on steadier emotional ground. She looked at her watch. ‘Gosh. I have to go.’ She stood. ‘Thank you. For … being so understanding.’

      He shrugged. ‘What are friends for?’

      Grace smiled, picked up her tray and departed. Brent watched her walk away. The sway of her hips drew his gaze to their hourglass curve and her cute bottom and he had to remind himself of the pact he’d made just a few seconds before.

       Friends.

      CHAPTER FOUR

      GRACE was pleased to get her first day in the actual department started. She loved emergency medicine and even a few weeks away from it had left her yearning for the hustle and bustle.

      It was the sort of work that was completely absorbing, leaving no time to worry about anything in the outside world. And now she and Brent had agreed to be friends, there was no reason for apprehension.

      It was actually a respite for Grace to come to work.

      She’d been too free to over-think her situation over the last few weeks, and the problems with Tash and the uncertainty of what would happen next had been unsettling.

      She never felt unsettled at work. At work there was certainty.

      And control.

      As she entered Melbourne Central’s emergency department via the sliding doors fifteen minutes before her official start time of eight a.m., Grace pulled in a deep lungful of hospital air. The smell of antiseptic and floor polish was as familiar to her as her own minty toothpaste breath and she almost sighed out loud.

      She wanted to stop in the middle of the all-but-deserted waiting area with its rows of hard plastic chairs and announce, ‘Honey, I’m home.’

      She smiled to herself as she kept walking, nodding to the nurse at the triage desk as she made her way to the empty staffroom. Stowing her bag in the locker she’d been allocated, she fixed herself a quick cup of coffee at the kitchenette and wandered out to the handover room where she knew the night medical staff would be passing on information to the day doctors.

      The handover room, used by both medical and nursing staff, was an office off the main medical station that formed the central hub of the department. It wasn’t very large and consisted of an overflowing desk, crammed bookshelves weighed down with medical texts and several chairs.

      There were two large glass windows so comings and goings could be watched, and on one wall was a large fixed whiteboard with various patients’ names and conditions corresponding with the cubicle number they currently occupied.

      Grace introduced herself to the assembled residents and registrars. A large glass jar that sat on the desk containing assorted lollies was passed around and the handover began. Two minutes later Brent strode into the room.

      ‘Sorry, I’m late,’ he apologised. ‘Bloody traffic is getting worse. Terrible impression to give the new kid on the block. Sorry, Grace, I know how you hate tardiness.’

      Grace bristled as she felt the force of several speculative gazes. Yes, she did abhor tardiness. Growing up in a family of twelve, they’d rarely been on time anywhere, and punctuality was one of the things since flying the nest that she’d always prided herself on.

      But the familiarity of his greeting, not to mention the way his damp hair curled around his collar and the distinct soap and aftershave aroma he’d brought into the room with him, rankled.

      He’d