Been There Done That (Leffersbee #1) - Hope Ellis Page 0,3

sagged. “I didn’t mean for this to happen. Not like this. I tried—”

“There you are!” Over-bright chirping I recognized all too well reached us, accompanied by the strident staccato of high heels.

Baffled, I craned my neck to see behind him. What in the world is going on?

Nick leaned forward. “I wanted to talk to you. Just the two of us.” His voice was tight, his delivery urgent.

“We thought we’d lost you, Mr. Rossi.” The owners of the disembodied voices materialized at my office door, as three of Tennessee State University’s highest-ranking administrators stood in a half-circle behind Nick.

“Dr. Leffersbee, you’re here!” Nellie Abrams, Director of Development, stepped forward with her customary toothy grin. “We were just taking our new friend on a tour.”

This couldn’t get any worse.

Nick flinched as her red acrylic nails settled on his sleeve as though they were talons. She gifted him with a blinding smile. If I wasn’t already convinced that God had blessed her with more teeth than the standard set of thirty-two, that smile would have cinched it.

“Yes. Here I am,” I said the words robotically, my chest filled with cement. I’d seen this dog and pony show before. Hell, I’d been the pony. But what were they doing with Nick?

What alternate universe had I stumbled into?

Nellie’s smile wilted at my deadpan tone. “Well, we certainly didn’t intend to interrupt. I didn’t expect you to be here.” Her gaze traveled over my third best pair of exercise leggings and the faded Tennessee State University lettering on my oversized shirt. “Campus is always a ghost town this time on a weekday.” She flicked a sidelong glance at Nick. “Just goes to show you how hardworking our faculty is.” She nudged his arm with her own, a somehow intimate gesture.

I blinked. I would have laughed at the muted look of alarm Nick aimed her way if my intestines hadn’t crawled up my throat.

“Mr. Rossi, this is Dr. Zora Leffersbee.” She gestured to me with a grandiose wave of her hand. I wondered if it was just my chronic sleep deprivation that made her smile and widened, wheeling eyes seem vaguely frightening. “Zora is faculty here. Her research involves improving communication between patients and their physicians. She’s done a lot of really interesting studies with our patients, and she’s done great work training our docs. I just know she’ll be able to help.”

What? Help?

Nellie turned back to me. Outside of Nick’s line of sight now, she further widened her eyes at me as if imparting something significant. Here it came. Most development officers I knew were a little slick, but Nellie’s delivery reminded me of a used car salesman.

“Zora, this is Nick Rossi. His company is at the forefront of really exciting, cutting-edge health care technology. You know how you can take your EKG at home, or on your watch? His company pioneered that technology. He’s been telling us about his newest venture into telemedicine as a way of further providing better accessibility to health care. We here at the School of Medicine and our partners at Knoxville Community Hospital are interested in adopting his program. We’ve been talking about having him partner with our surgical departments to pilot the app, but we’re still working out some of the details about communication protocols. So, we thought you might be able to help us think through some of that.” She threw him another sidelong glance, followed by another nudge that startled him and broke the connection of our gazes. Nick turned his attention to her, lips thinned.

“And, if that wasn’t enough,” Nellie continued, “he’s indicated an interest in making a gift to our medical school. Isn’t that exciting?”

I only registered half of what she said. My gaze moved over him. “Rossi?” He’d changed his last name?

“That’s right. Nick Rossi.” Nellie nodded.

My pulse came to life in my ears, thrumming loudly. Slow down, Zora. Proceed with caution.

Nick’s chest visibly lifted with a sigh as he leaned against the doorway. The sight of him shoving his hand through his hair ignited a memory. Impressions streaked across my brain like quicksilver. Nick as a kid, looking away, scowling, mouth pinched when he was scolded. Nick as a teenager, raking his hand through the thick waves of his hair as we both sat silent, hip to hip, sobered by the realization that life had become more complicated than we ever could have imagined. Nick as a young man, his lanky arms pinning my back against his chest, the hollow reverberation of his