“Bye, Eric,” she said quietly and turned away.
All it would have taken was one word, one small question, to ask if she still wanted to try. If she cared, or wanted to go on a date, or whatever. But he hadn’t said anything. He’d made all these great and tough changes in his life. Surely he could have said how he felt.
But he’d said nothing, and that said it all.
She gathered her dignity and walked away.
* * *
He’d blown it.
Eric sat in his temporary office in Waltham and put his head into his hands. It had been going so well at lunch, and then he’d watched the shadow fall over her face and she’d completely closed off. Then he hadn’t known what to do. The timing had been all wrong to open up about his feelings, and the more the lunch went on, the more he’d panicked about what to say. In the end he hadn’t said half of what he’d wanted to, but what was the point if Molly wasn’t interested?
He simply didn’t understand. She’d looked so happy to see him, and then in the middle of lunch she’d just looked...disappointed. What had he done wrong?
There was a knock on the frame of his door and one of the office assistants poked her head inside. “Mr. Chambault? There’s a Dr. O’Neill here to see you. He’s a bit early for his appointment.”
“That’s okay. Send him in.”
“Would you like some coffee, sir? I can bring some in.”
“That would be great, Megan. Thank you.”
She beamed, seemingly pleased by the simple fact that he’d remembered her name and been polite. Good heavens. What had their work environment been like before?
When Dr. O’Neill stepped inside Eric’s office, Eric recognized him immediately. He’d wondered why the name sounded familiar—now he knew. He’d been Molly’s date at the benefit. And the one to ask her to work with them to save the facility.
He shouldn’t be jealous, but he was. This man and Molly were friends. Heck, maybe they were more than friends. But he was also one of the top vascular surgeons in the country. He cared a lot about the future of Atlantic Bionics and had a wealth of knowledge to share.
“Come in, Dr. O’Neill. Megan’s coming back with some coffee. Is there anything else you’d like?”
They shook hands—a good firm handshake—and then O’Neill shook his head. “No, I’m fine. I got off shift a while ago and grabbed a bite at the hospital. I see you’re settling in.”
“I am. I head back to Montreal at the first of the week, but I’m going to keep an office here, too, so I can be hands-on now and again. This is all new territory to me.”
“So I gather. We were surprised to hear you were going to stick it out, to be honest.”
“No more surprised than me,” he admitted, gesturing toward a plush seating area. “But sometimes life throws us curveballs. Good ones.”
“Like Molly Quinn?”
Eric stilled, but O’Neill took a seat in one of the chairs and crossed his ankle over his knee.
Eric followed suit, relaxing his face into an easy smile. He’d been in business too long to let his weaknesses show. “Of course. Molly’s great. And she was right about this place.”
“Eric... Can I call you Eric? And you can call me Ryan. I didn’t come to see you about the business. Not today, anyway.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Ryan, if this is about Molly... I’m not about to talk about my personal life. If you want to talk about the consultancy...”
Ryan waved a hand and wrinkled his brow, looking annoyed. “Yeah, yeah. You know I’ll help with that. This place has potential that has never been fully realized. It needs your business acumen and my medical expertise. Or others like me. You might not want me after I say what I’ve come to say.”
Megan picked that moment to interrupt with coffee. She put the tray down on the coffee table and quietly left. Both men picked up their cups and sipped, leaving their coffee black.
“Clearly you have an agenda, so you’d better say your piece.”
“All right. Molly is a damn fine woman. She’s tough when it comes to the courtroom and a marshmallow underneath. She’s got ethics coming out of her ears and she truly cares about people.”
“You sound as if you’re half in love with her.”