by Sandi Lynn
“Nice to meet you Gail.” I lightly shook her hand.
“I’ve heard a lot about you. I have a friend who works over at Manhattan Memorial. Dr. John Reddy.”
“Yes, I know John. We worked together in the ER.”
“He had nothing but wonderful things to say about you.”
“I’m happy to hear that. He’s a great guy and an amazing doctor.”
“I hope you’re talking about me.” Jamieson grinned as he walked over to us.
“You’re always the talk of the hospital.” Gail winked at him and placed her hand on his chest.
He gave her a wink back and it made my belly churn. Yep, he’d slept with her.
“Can I get you another beer?” Jamieson asked.
“Actually, I’d like a scotch if you have any.”
“Music to my ears.” He grinned. “Of course I do. Follow me.”
We walked back inside his house and he walked over to his bar and poured me a drink.
“You have a nice place here,” I spoke. “Did you decorate it yourself?”
“No.” He laughed. “I wish I could take all the credit, but I had an interior designer come in.”
He handed me my drink and tipped his glass to mine.
“Welcome to my home, Dr. Harper.”
I gave him a small smile as I brought the glass to my lips.
“Renata told me about Vegas,” I spoke.
“We’re going to have a good time. Once we get through the medical conference, of course. I’m staying the whole weekend since I’m off. How about you?”
“I’m off too. Renata put me on alert about you.” I smirked.
“Not surprised. She already slapped me on the hand. But hey, what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, right?”
After a few hours, everyone was starting to leave. Grabbing my purse, I pulled my phone from it and saw another text message from Sam.
“Don’t do this to me, Grace. I don’t know how much more I can beg you for forgiveness. It’s driving me crazy not seeing you or talking to you. Please, just call me for fuck sakes.”
“Everything all right?” Jamieson asked as he walked up behind me.
“Yeah.” I hurried and closed out of the text message.
“Him again?”
“Yeah.” I sighed.
“Sounds like he’s obsessed with you.”
He placed his hand on my cheek and softly stroked it.
“You should change your number.”
My knees felt weak and I trembled at his touch. Damn those hands.
“I really should get going.”
“You’ve been drinking. I think you should stay.” His eyes stared into mine.
“I only had one beer and a glass of scotch because I knew I had to drive home,” I spoke in a soft voice as his hand continued to stroke my cheek.
“You want to stay and you know it. Plus, you owe me.”
“Excuse me?” I cocked my head.
“Last night you were horny and you asked me to come over. I did, and I happily fulfilled your needs. Now tonight, I’m horny and I’m asking you to come to bed with me.” The corners of his mouth curved upwards.
My trembling skin and the fluttering down below were too much to bear. I couldn’t say no. No matter how much I tried, I couldn’t. My body wouldn’t let me.
“Okay.” I softly smiled.
He took hold of my hand and led me upstairs to his bedroom.
Chapter 16
Grace
I rolled off him and desperately tried to catch my breath as he climbed out of bed and walked into the bathroom. I ran my hand over the fabric of his dark gray satin sheets. I could hear my phone ringing from my purse, which was sitting on his dresser. Getting out of bed, I covered myself with a throw blanket that sat on the end of the bed and pulled my phone out. Anger consumed me when I saw another different number calling.
“What the fuck do you want?” I shouted as I answered.
Jamieson emerged from the bathroom and stood in the middle of the room.
“No. You listen to me, Sam. It’s over. It’s been over since that night. I only told you two months to give me enough time to get the hell out of New York and away from you. There’s nothing to talk about! What part of ‘it’s over’ do you not understand? I don’t care about your damn excuses and I don’t want your apology. There isn’t anything in this world that could ever make me forgive you! If you call or text me again, I will press charges for stalking. I’m done. It’s done. This is the last time you will ever hear my voice!”
I ended the call and threw my phone on the floor as I stood there with my heart pounding out of my chest.
“Hey, are you okay?” Jamieson asked as he walked up behind me and clasped my shoulders.
I jerked away from his grip and wiped the tear that was about to fall from my eye.
“I’m sorry you had to hear that. I just couldn’t take it anymore.”
“Don’t apologize. It was quite entertaining.” He smirked. “If he didn’t get the hint from that conversation, then he’s a complete idiot. What did he do to you?”
I stood there in front of him, wrapped in a blanket, debating whether or not I should tell him. A part of me wanted to and the other part of me wanted to keep it locked tightly away in my mind. I opted to keep it to myself. I wasn’t sure if I could truly trust him.
“It doesn’t matter. What’s done is done and things are different now. I’m away from him, he doesn’t know where I am, and tomorrow, I’m changing my phone number.”
He sighed, climbed into bed, and patted the empty space next to him.
“Are you coming?” He smiled.
The next morning, I awoke to the smell of freshly brewed coffee. Coffee so strong that I could smell the aroma all the way upstairs. Slipping on one of Jamieson’s black t-shirts, I walked down to the kitchen, where I found him sitting at the island eating a bagel.
“Good morning. I didn’t think you’d be up this early. It’s your day off.”
“Morning.”
“Help yourself to some coffee. The cups are in the cabinet above the coffee maker.”
“Thanks. I couldn’t sleep, and I have a lot to do today.”
“My t-shirt looks great on you.” He took a bite of his bagel.
“Sorry. I hope you don’t mind.”
“No. Not at all. It’s sexy.” He winked.
I gave him a small smile as I poured some coffee into my cup.
“There’s bagels in the bag over there if you want one.”
“I’m not hungry. I’ll grab something a little later.”
“I was going to wake you before I left for the hospital so we could head out together. I really don’t like anyone in my house when I’m not here,” he spoke.
I took a sip of coffee and arched my brow at him.
“I left you in my apartment alone in the middle of the night.”
“I know and it’s not that I don’t trust you. It’s just a thing I have.”
“So you’re telling me that if I was still asleep, you were going to wake me up to kick me out?”
“You make me sound like an asshole when you say it like that. But, yeah, I was going to ask you to leave. In a nice way, of course.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I rolled my eyes, set my cup on the island, and went upstairs.
“Grace, wait a minute,” he spoke as he followed me up. “Are you mad at me? Because that look you just shot me told me you are.”
“No,” I spoke in a harsh tone as I took off his t-shirt and threw on my clothes from yesterday.
“Admit that you are,” he spoke.
“You don’t trust me, Jamieson. I get it. You barely know me. It’s fine.” I sat on the bed and put on my shoes.
“I just don’t like strangers in my house when I’m not home. That’s all.”
I got up from the bed, went into the bathroom, and threw my hair in a ponytail.
“That’s right, I forgot. We are strangers. For som
e weird and crazy reason, I thought we were friends.” I grabbed my purse.
As I walked past him, he grabbed my arm.
“We are friends.” His eyes stared into mine. “It’s just a thing I have. It’s nothing personal.”
“Have a nice day saving lives, Jamieson.”
I walked out the front door, climbed into my car, and drove to the first Starbucks I saw. After getting my coffee, I put the top down on my car, turned up the radio, and merged onto the highway. I was jamming, trying to live in the present moment and put everything else out of my mind, when I looked in my rearview mirror and saw the flashing lights of a police car behind me.
“Shit.” I heavily sighed and pulled over on the shoulder. “Hello, officer.” I smiled brightly.
“Do you know what the speed limit is?” he asked in a harsh tone.
“Sixty-five?” I bit down on my bottom lip.
“Do you know how fast you were going?”
“Seventy?” I bit down on my bottom lip again.
“No. You were doing eighty-five. If you were doing seventy, I wouldn’t have pulled you over.”
“I’m sorry, officer. I didn’t realize.”
“I need your driver’s license and registration.”
I pulled my license out of my purse, handed it to him, and then reached over and pulled my registration from my glovebox.
“You don’t have a California driver’s license? This says New York.”
“Actually, I was on my way to the DMV to get one. I just moved here, and I haven’t had a chance to get there.”
“Sure you were.” His brow arched.
“Listen, officer. I am really sorry, and I didn’t realize how fast I was going. Back in New York, I rarely drove. You know, with the taxi cabs and subway, not to mention the traffic.”
“Doesn’t matter,” he looked at my license, “Grace Harper. This is California you’re in now and you were exceeding the speed limit by twenty over.”
“I was keeping up with traffic.”
“People love to tell me that. I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to write you a ticket. Let it be a lesson, since you’re new to driving and all.” He cocked his head.
I couldn’t believe this. Ugh. So far, this day was sucking big time.
“I’ll be right back,” he spoke.
He began walking to his vehicle, when out of nowhere, shots were fired. I immediately ducked down as a car sped by and someone yelled, “Take that, cop,” and when I thought it was safe, I sat up. I looked behind me and saw the officer lying on the ground. I didn’t have time to think about what just happened and I didn’t have time for my mind or body to process it. Several cars pulled over to the side. I grabbed my medical bag from the back seat and got out of my car.
“Call 911 now!” I shouted at a man who emerged from his car as I ran over to the officer who was lying there shaking and bleeding profusely. “I’m a doctor and I can help you,” I spoke. “Can you tell me your name, because I really don’t want to keep calling you ‘officer’?”
“John.”
I checked his vitals, tore open his shirt, and examined the bullet wound that penetrated his chest. Placing my hand over the wound, I applied pressure to help control the bleeding.
“The paramedics are on their way and you’re going to be fine.”
“Is there anything I can do?” the man who called 911 asked.
“I need you to go to my car over there and get my cellphone. Hurry.”
He ran back with my phone and tried to hand it to me.
“I can’t move my hand from his wound. The passcode is trauma. Go through my contacts until you see Cedars-Sinai ER, dial them, and put the phone to my ear,” I instructed.
He did as I asked, and Jackie answered the phone.
“Jackie, It’s Grace. I’m on the side of the highway with an officer who’s been shot in the chest. The paramedics are on their way. I need you to page cardio and have three units of O neg on standby when we get there. Put the order in for a CBC, electrolytes, and arterial blood gases.”
“Got it, Grace.”
The ambulance pulled up and the paramedics ran over with the stretcher.
“We got it from here, ma’am,” one of the paramedics spoke.
“I’m a trauma surgeon. He has a gunshot wound to the chest with no exit wound. He’s bleeding pretty bad and if I remove my hand, he’ll bleed out.”
The paramedics placed an oxygen mask over him and quickly loaded him into the ambulance. I rode with them as I kept pressure on his chest and carefully watched his vitals. John started to cough up blood and his pressure began to drop.
“His BP is dropping, Doctor Harper.”
“His chest is filling with blood. I need to insert a chest tube. Ten-gauge scalpel,” I spoke as I held out my hand. “Take over applying pressure.”
I inserted the chest tube and his vitals started to rise. We arrived at the hospital, where my residents were waiting outside for me as we pulled up.
“BP is 100/80 and pulse is 120. Where’s cardio?”
“Dr. Williams is in surgery. We paged his resident, but he isn’t answering.”
I stayed on the stretcher with the patient, continuing to put pressure on the wound as the paramedics rolled us into the ER. I looked over at the nurses’ station and saw Jamieson staring at me.
“Are you okay?” he asked as he followed us to trauma room four.
“I’m fine. I need a portable CT in here now!” I shouted.
Five hours later and performing surgery with Dr. Williams, a cardiothoracic surgeon, Officer John was stabilized and ready to be closed up.
“Excuse me, Dr. Harper, there are some police officers down in the ER that need to speak to you,” Jamie, one of the nurses, spoke as she walked into the operating room.
“Tell them I’ll be down in a minute.”
“Go ahead, Dr. Harper. I’ll take care of the rest. It was a pleasure doing surgery with you.” Dr. Williams smiled.
“Thank you.” I nodded as I took off my scrub cap and gown and walked out of the room.
After scrubbing out, I went down to the ER, where I saw Jamieson walk out of one of the rooms and two officers standing at the nurses’ station. Walking up to them, I introduced myself.
“I’m Doctor Harper.”
“I’m Officer James and this is Officer Greggs. Do you have a few minutes to answer some questions about the incident on the highway?”
“Of course.”
I answered their questions the best I could.
“Thank you for your time, Dr. Harper,” Officer Greggs spoke. “And thank you for saving John’s life. He’s very lucky you were there. We are all very appreciative of you.”
“You’re welcome.” I gave them both a small smile. “By the way, do you think you can give me a ride back to my car?”
“Yeah, of course,” Officer James spoke.
“Thank you. I just need to grab my purse. I’ll be right back.”
I walked into the doctors’ lounge and Jamieson followed behind.
“So much for your day off.”
“Yeah. What can I say? The life of a trauma surgeon.”
“Are you still upset with me about this morning?”
“It is what it is. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go.” I walked out of the lounge.
Chapter 17
Jamieson
I sighed as I watched her walk out of the hospital with the two police officers.
“I think she’s mad at me,” I spoke as I glanced over at Jackie.
“Why? What did you do?” Her brow raised.
“She spent the night at my place last night. By the way, we missed you. You missed one hell of a get-together. Anyway, she got up this morning and I told her that I was going to wake her up so we could leave together.”
“Leave together? Why? It’s her day off. She didn’t have to come to the hospital with you.”
“I don’t like people in my home when I’m not there.”
> “It’s Grace. If I recall, she left you in her apartment all night, by yourself.” She pursed her lips at me.
“It’s just a thing I have. I told her not to take it personally. But I think she did anyway.”
Jackie reached over and hit me with a chart.
“You idiot. Of course she did. For future reference, when you’re done having sex, send them home.” She rolled her eyes and walked away.
“Hey, Jamieson,” Logan spoke. “There you are. I was looking for you.”
“What’s up?”
“Drinks tonight? I really need to get my mind off Riley and this baby.”
“Sure.” I smiled as I patted his shoulder.
After my shift ended, Logan and I headed to The Dive, a popular bar near the hospital. Despite its name, it was an upscale place.
“What can I get you two handsome doctors?” Paige smiled as she walked over to our table.
“I’ll have a scotch, Paige,” I spoke.
“And I’ll have a double scotch and an order of the pretzel bites,” Logan spoke.
“Coming right up.”
“Seriously, Jamieson. What am I going to do? I don’t want a kid. Maybe things would be different if I loved Riley. I barely know her.”
“Then I suggest getting to know her, since she’s going to be in your life for the next eighteen years.”
He leaned forward and placed his forehead on the table.
“That’s eternity. I feel like I’m being punished.”
“Grace is mad at me because I was going to kick her out this morning before I left for work. Plus, I accidentally said that I don’t like strangers in the house when I’m not home.”
“Are you really surprised she’s mad? She’s a woman. They always take things the wrong way. Somehow, it’s always our fault. Just like Riley getting knocked up. Totally my fault, she said, even though she said it was okay not to use a condom.”
“Two scotches and an order of pretzel bites.” Paige smiled.
“Thanks, Paige,” I spoke.
“Do you even care if she’s mad at you? It’s not like you’re into her or anything. Or are you?” Logan’s brow raised.
“No. Of course not. I like the sex and she’s a nice girl, but that’s it. Renata is sending us to Vegas next Thursday to speak at a medical conference.”
