so I'll take that as a compliment."
"Anyway, I'm not in love with Drake. I just don't want things to end like this..." She trailed off, her conflicting emotions confusing her. How would she know love, anyway? Maybe Drake was right to want to go slow.
"Were you worried about Virginia's treatment of Charlie when you first met her in the ER?" Adeena asked. Cassie looked up in surprise. "You weren't, were you? I know you. Things start to go badly with Drake, so what do you do? Find the first lost child that needs help, a cause you can throw your energies into, anything easier than dealing with Drake."
She stared at the linoleum, reluctant to admit that Adeena might be right.
"Go home. Get some rest. You look like you need it. I'll keep an eye on Charlie, let Sterling know you only had his best interests at heart." Adeena pushed open the door leading back to the ICU corridor.
Cassie continued down the steps and paused at the door leading to the ER. Usually she'd give her boss, Ed Castro, a heads up when she upset someone like Sterling. But Ed was in Washington, trying to raise funding for a community clinic that he was setting up in Drake's building in East Liberty.
The building was the former home of the Liberty Times newspaper back when the Pittsburgh neighborhood had rivaled Harlem during the jazz age. Drake was slowly rehabbing the sorely neglected building and had given Ed the space for free, but Ed still needed a large chunk of change before he could start.
She stopped, her hand frozen against the doorway. Ed was meeting with a bunch of politicians during his trip to DC. One of them was the senator from western Pennsylvania, George Ulrich.
Had to be a coincidence. It couldn't be the same family, could it? Ulrich wasn't that uncommon of a name. There was also a lawyer in Richard's brother's firm named Ulrich. Cassie went through the door, oblivious to the chaos swirling through the ER as she made her way to the woman's locker room. Had her impetuousness endangered the clinic, a life-long dream of Ed Castro's?
The sunshine ambushed her when she emerged outside. April had just arrived, and Pittsburgh was celebrating with a glorious succession of mild, sun-filled days. Cassie turned her face to the sun, squinting at her guardian angel beside the entrance. She'd hoped she'd be having a celebration dinner with Drake. Peace and quiet, a little wine, a little conversation–about something more important than the weather or baseball.
That wasn't happening anytime soon. She blew her breath out in exasperation. If she hadn't over-reacted, misinterpreted his words earlier, she could be with him right now, his arms wrapped around her, sharing their strength...
Standing around never solved anything , she thought, mimicking Gram Rosa, and started down Penn Avenue.
A few blocks away, between Three Rivers Medical Center and the precinct house Drake worked out of, was the Blarney Stone, a bar owned by Drake's first partner. Andy Greally was tending bar himself when she entered.
"Why, it's the good Dr. Hart." He guided her to a bar stool with a jovial smile. "It's nice to see you again. You doing all right?"
"Fine, thanks," she replied, gratified by his warm greeting. She hadn't been here since the shooting and wasn't certain how Drake's comrades would accept her presence. Her gaze darted around the brightly lit space with its dark oak and brass trimmings.
"DJ's not here," Andy told her. Drake had joined the force while his father was still working and so was known throughout the police bureau as Drake Junior or DJ. "But Tony Spanos is in the back room playing pool." He leaned across the bar toward her. "Don't go leaving on his account. I'd throw that bum out before I'd let a pretty girl like yourself leave." He patted her hand. "Now, what can I get you?"
Cassie debated leaving anyway. Spanos was a uniformed cop who'd made
"Anyway, I'm not in love with Drake. I just don't want things to end like this..." She trailed off, her conflicting emotions confusing her. How would she know love, anyway? Maybe Drake was right to want to go slow.
"Were you worried about Virginia's treatment of Charlie when you first met her in the ER?" Adeena asked. Cassie looked up in surprise. "You weren't, were you? I know you. Things start to go badly with Drake, so what do you do? Find the first lost child that needs help, a cause you can throw your energies into, anything easier than dealing with Drake."
She stared at the linoleum, reluctant to admit that Adeena might be right.
"Go home. Get some rest. You look like you need it. I'll keep an eye on Charlie, let Sterling know you only had his best interests at heart." Adeena pushed open the door leading back to the ICU corridor.
Cassie continued down the steps and paused at the door leading to the ER. Usually she'd give her boss, Ed Castro, a heads up when she upset someone like Sterling. But Ed was in Washington, trying to raise funding for a community clinic that he was setting up in Drake's building in East Liberty.
The building was the former home of the Liberty Times newspaper back when the Pittsburgh neighborhood had rivaled Harlem during the jazz age. Drake was slowly rehabbing the sorely neglected building and had given Ed the space for free, but Ed still needed a large chunk of change before he could start.
She stopped, her hand frozen against the doorway. Ed was meeting with a bunch of politicians during his trip to DC. One of them was the senator from western Pennsylvania, George Ulrich.
Had to be a coincidence. It couldn't be the same family, could it? Ulrich wasn't that uncommon of a name. There was also a lawyer in Richard's brother's firm named Ulrich. Cassie went through the door, oblivious to the chaos swirling through the ER as she made her way to the woman's locker room. Had her impetuousness endangered the clinic, a life-long dream of Ed Castro's?
The sunshine ambushed her when she emerged outside. April had just arrived, and Pittsburgh was celebrating with a glorious succession of mild, sun-filled days. Cassie turned her face to the sun, squinting at her guardian angel beside the entrance. She'd hoped she'd be having a celebration dinner with Drake. Peace and quiet, a little wine, a little conversation–about something more important than the weather or baseball.
That wasn't happening anytime soon. She blew her breath out in exasperation. If she hadn't over-reacted, misinterpreted his words earlier, she could be with him right now, his arms wrapped around her, sharing their strength...
Standing around never solved anything , she thought, mimicking Gram Rosa, and started down Penn Avenue.
A few blocks away, between Three Rivers Medical Center and the precinct house Drake worked out of, was the Blarney Stone, a bar owned by Drake's first partner. Andy Greally was tending bar himself when she entered.
"Why, it's the good Dr. Hart." He guided her to a bar stool with a jovial smile. "It's nice to see you again. You doing all right?"
"Fine, thanks," she replied, gratified by his warm greeting. She hadn't been here since the shooting and wasn't certain how Drake's comrades would accept her presence. Her gaze darted around the brightly lit space with its dark oak and brass trimmings.
"DJ's not here," Andy told her. Drake had joined the force while his father was still working and so was known throughout the police bureau as Drake Junior or DJ. "But Tony Spanos is in the back room playing pool." He leaned across the bar toward her. "Don't go leaving on his account. I'd throw that bum out before I'd let a pretty girl like yourself leave." He patted her hand. "Now, what can I get you?"
Cassie debated leaving anyway. Spanos was a uniformed cop who'd made
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