Moonlight over Manhattan (From Manhattan with Love 6)

In reality it wasn’t his fault that she wasn’t good with strangers.

That was her problem. She was the one who had to deal with it.

She tried to relax the tense knot in her stomach. She tried telling herself he wasn’t a stranger. Not only had he treated her ankle, he was Debra’s brother and she’d known Debra for years. He hadn’t shouted because he was angry with her. He’d shouted because he was angry with himself. Because he hadn’t been able to save that patient.

She couldn’t even begin to imagine how that must feel. She wanted to ask him, but right now he was focused on her.

“How long has it been?”

Taking a slow, deep breath and looking directly at him, she tried again to speak. “A few years.” The words emerged with no problem. No barrier.

“Years?” Ethan put his wineglass down slowly. “Then I’m doubly sorry.”

“Why?”

“Because I triggered something you had under control.”

“It’s my stammer. Not your fault.”

“We both know that’s not true. I was rude, which is inexcusable. I made you anxious.”

“I find it difficult to talk to people I don’t know. I’m not good with strangers. I’m shy—” She hated saying it. Immediately she wanted to follow up by saying that shy wasn’t the same as weak. “And I have no idea why I just told you that. The one thing I don’t do is divulge personal information to people I don’t know.”

“I’m a doctor. It’s different.”

Was that it? Maybe it was.

He sat down on one of the chairs by the kitchen island and gestured for her to do the same.

“Did you see a speech therapist?”

“For a while. Maybe I should do it again.”

“I don’t think you need that. You just need to relax and take your time. And not hang out with guys like me.” His tone was dry. “You’re not alone, you know. Aristotle had a stammer. So did Charles Darwin.”

“King George VI.”

“Marilyn Monroe.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Really? I didn’t know.”

“There’s an interview where she talks about it. So how do you manage with your job? Aren’t you constantly required to talk to strangers?”

“Yes, but my sister does that part. New business, bookings, she handles that side of things.” She slid onto the chair next to him, her fingers grasping her wineglass. She didn’t trust her own powers of speech, and it was an awful feeling. She wasn’t sure if alcohol would make it worse or better. “I live life in my comfort zone.”

“That wasn’t how it seemed the other night when I saw you in the emergency room.”

“That was me trying to leave my comfort zone. You saw how it turned out.” Oh what the heck. She took a gulp of wine and felt it slide into her veins. The words were loose and flowing again. She could almost pretend she’d imagined what had happened. Almost, but not quite. It had happened. And it could happen again. Maybe on one level she’d always known that, but she’d gotten complacent. But maybe complacency was a good thing. Worrying, anxiety, made it worse. “I think we’d both agree I’m a work in progress.”

“But you went on a date with a stranger. You didn’t stammer?”

She put her glass down. “He didn’t give me a chance to talk. But I did manage about four short sentences, which was more than I managed on the date before him.”

His eyes gleamed and he leaned forward to top up her wine. “Sounds as if you’ve had some thrilling dates.”

“The best.” She found herself smiling too. She also found herself wishing someone like Ethan had been her blind date, which made no sense at all because less than half an hour earlier she’d left the apartment and braved snow rather than stay in the same space as him. “I’m done with it now.”

“You’ve finished dating? Aren’t you a little young to give up on love?”