Chapter 214

"Who was that?" Peter Harrison asked, glancing sideways.

Evelyn Carter quickly declined the call. "Telemarketer."

"Real estate agent? Might as well chat. They have good intel."

"No," she tucked her phone into her bag. "Florist."

Just then, Peter's phone lit up.

He put on his Bluetooth earpiece and answered.

He barely spoke during the call, his frown deepening with each passing second.

"Understood," he finally said in a low voice. "I'll head back ASAP."

"Work emergency?" Evelyn asked.

"Yeah," he turned the steering wheel. "Had an interview scheduled this afternoon. Might be late now."

"Job change?" She sounded surprised. "Why the sudden switch?"

Peter chuckled. "Gotta plan for the future. Wedding, kids, school districts—all cost money. State jobs are stable but pay peanuts. Private sector's tougher but doubles the income."

Evelyn's heart skipped.

He'd already mapped out their future so thoroughly.

Yet she...

"Sorry."

"I should be the one apologizing," he kept his eyes on the road. "Jumping straight to marriage talk without even proposing or dating first—it's rushed. Especially after how your last relationship started. Your hesitation makes sense."

Evelyn pointed to an intersection ahead. "Drop me here. Don't miss your interview."

"But you alone—"

"I'll cab back to the hospital."

Peter checked the time and relented. "Text me when you arrive."

"Okay."

The hospital was unusually quiet that afternoon.

Olivia Lightfoot slumped over her desk, glasses askew, a thick medical journal spread before her.

"Dr. Carter!" Olivia groaned, lifting her head. "Save me..."

"Paper rejected again?"

Olivia nodded frantically.

Evelyn skimmed the paper. Their research areas overlapped, so she quickly circled several issues.

"Ugh, kill me now!" Olivia yanked at her hair. "How did you survive this, Dr. Carter? Just the paper alone is torture. Thinking about future promotions makes me wanna jump out the window!"

Evelyn's fingers stilled.

The resort. Alexander Hamilton. Annabelle Taylor.

Memories flooded back.

"Not a pleasant experience."

"Professor Wang needed glasses after writing materials—300 degrees worse!" Olivia whined. "I'm already at 700. By the time I reach your level, I'll be blind!"

"Then take a break."

Olivia suddenly snapped her book shut. "Oh! Dr. Porter's treating everyone tonight. You in?"

"She win the lottery?"

"Getting married! Bachelorette party tonight!"