Kissed and Conquered

Chapter Thirteen: Caught in a Lie

Vanessa Kline scoffed, her blonde curls bouncing with disdain. “Oh, please, Harper, drop the act. Chad Wheeler, heir to Wheeler’s Diner Empire? Everyone in A City knows him. There’s playing coy, and then there’s just embarrassing yourself.”

Emily frowned. Wheeler’s Diner? She’d heard of it—a big-deal chain before she’d left for med school abroad. But Chad? Total stranger. Four years in London didn’t exactly keep her up to speed on A City’s who’s who. “Uh… Chad who?” she asked, genuinely clueless.

Chad shifted, looking like a puppy worried he’d chewed the wrong shoe. “Dr. Harper? You okay? I’m not, like, creeping you out, am I?”

“Mr. Wheeler, huh?” Emily said, testing the waters, her tone skeptical.

Chad perked up, sensing an opening. “Yup! My dad’s the CEO of Wheeler’s Diner. Anytime you hit up one of our spots—burgers, shakes, whatever—just drop my name, and it’s on the house. Free food for life, Doc!”

Emily’s eyes lit up like a kid spotting an ice cream truck. “No kidding?” Forget the ten grand she’d shredded—free diner grub was a lifelong jackpot. Score!

Seeing her spark, Chad grinned, thinking he’d cracked her code. “Totally serious! Hey, you must be starving after that marathon surgery. Didn’t eat at Luna’s either, right? Let me treat you to a late-night bite—best milkshakes in town!”

“Milkshakes?” Emily hesitated. Her stomach was staging a full-on rebellion after skipping lunch and powering through an eight-hour OR session. But grabbing food with a stranger—especially a guy—at midnight? Her inner conservative was waving red flags like a matador. Nope, not vibing with that.

Vanessa, smelling blood, chimed in with a smirk. “Oh, come on, Harper. Chad’s practically rolling out the red carpet, and you’re playing hard to get? Don’t worry, we’ll keep your little side hustle hush-hush. Wouldn’t want Dr. Brooks finding out you’re two-timing him.”

“Thanks for the concern, Kline,” Emily said, her eye-roll practically audible. “But I’m good. You keep swinging, though—love the enthusiasm.” Vanessa’s jabs were annoying, but harmless. Emily could handle a little shade.

Chad waited, hopeful, his puppy-dog eyes practically begging. Emily wasn’t sure what his deal was—guilt, a crush, or just rich-kid generosity—but midnight snacks were a hard pass. “Look, Chad, I appreciate the apology, and we’re cool. But I’ve got stuff to handle, so…” She glanced at the door, her please leave vibe crystal clear.

Chad wasn’t clueless. He nodded, a flicker of disappointment in his eyes. “Got it, Dr. Harper. I won’t bug you.” He paused, then added, “You’re the first person to treat me like… a regular guy, even knowing who I am. Kinda cool.” With that, he headed out.

Emily exhaled, relieved. Dodged that bullet. As long as Chad wasn’t planning to stalk her, she was golden.

Vanessa, never one to miss a shot, piped up. “Wow, Harper, letting a catch like that slip away? Don’t tell me you held back because we were watching. Or are you saving yourself for Brooks?”

Emily smirked, unfazed. “Kline, you give yourself way too much credit. You couldn’t sway my choices if you tried. And instead of stirring drama, maybe brush up on your bedside manner. Wouldn’t want the dean bailing you out of another patient complaint, right?” She grabbed her bag, aiming for a dramatic exit, but her sprained ankle turned her swagger into a limp. So much for cool.

Vanessa’s rep preceded her. Emily had heard the gossip before even starting at St. Mary’s—Vanessa flaunted her dean-niece status like a crown, strutting around like she owned the place. Her skills? Barely nurse-level. Complaints piled up, but her uncle’s clout kept her afloat. Annoying? Sure. Dangerous? Not really. Better an open pest than a snake in the grass.

Lost in thought, Emily’s phone buzzed. A text from Nathan Brooks: Done with work? I’ll drive you home.

Her heart skipped, then sank. Drive me home? Was he trying to make their “thing” hospital headline news? Her phone nearly slipped from her sweaty palms as she typed a frantic reply: Oh, bummer! Already in an Uber. Catch ya tomorrow, boss!

She hit send, bolted to the hospital entrance, and scanned the lot like a spy in a bad thriller. Spotting no sign of Nathan, she flagged a cab and dove in, slamming the door. “Go, go, go!” she urged, half-expecting Nathan to pop up like a rom-com villain.

As the cab pulled away, Emily glanced out the window—and froze. A sleek black Bentley idled by the curb, window down. Nathan, smirking like the cat that ate the canary, gave her a cheeky wave.

Her phone pinged. Another text from Nathan: What a coincidence 😏

Caught red-handed. Emily groaned, slumping in her seat. Why’d I lie? Lies always backfired, and now Nathan knew she was dodging him. Maybe he’ll take the hint and back off, she hoped, but her gut said otherwise.

The cab dropped her at her tiny apartment, the quiet a stark contrast to the hospital’s chaos. Alone, her bravado crumbled. The day’s weight—Nathan’s flirting, Vanessa’s snark, Chad’s drama, and her own dumb lie—hit like a tidal wave.

On her nightstand sat a framed photo of her and Jake Callahan, taken before her four years abroad. She’d clung to it through lonely nights in London, a lifeline to home and love. Four years of long-distance longing, only to return and find Jake shacked up with Brittany Baxter.

“Jerk!” Emily snarled, hurling the frame to the floor. The glass cracked, mirroring her heart. She pictured Jake and Brittany’s smug PDA at Luna’s and stomped the frame for good measure. “Take that, you cheating loser!”

Panting, she straightened, wiping tears. “You’ll regret dumping me, Jake Callahan. I don’t need you—I’m gonna live bigger, better, and way more epic without you.”

She sniffed, squared her shoulders, and headed for the shower. Cry’s over. Time to sleep and slay another day.