“What are you thinking about exactly?”
“What to do. How things would be at work if we explore more. How things will be at work if I tell him we can only be colleagues. All of it.”
“I can’t tell you how he will react if you give friendship or more a chance with him. I know he says he wants to keep things like they are, but I don’t think it’ll be possible for either of you.”
“That’s not a good thing though, right?”
I can hear some rustling, and then the kids and Simon in the background are gone and she sounds louder when she speaks. “It’s not necessarily bad, either. If you two are involved, it will be hard to ignore the feelings at work. You’re human, feelings can’t just be turned on and off on a whim. He’ll probably be nicer when you work together, but he may make sure April works more often with you than he does.”
“She’s his PA, right?”
“She is.”
I take in some air and tilt my head back, letting the sun bathe my face in heat. “What’s she like?”
“She’s really nice, as far as I know. Anytime I’ve ever spoken to her, or called for a consult, she’s been incredibly professional and personable. I heard rumor she liked Dr. Alexander once, but I never confirmed. I try not to spread gossip.”
“Hmmm.” I switch my phone to my other ear. “I’m sure it’s true. It has to be, doesn’t it? I mean, we are talking about him. He’s hot, who doesn’t like him?”
“Beside me? I don’t think I know of any other nurses, techs, doctors, assistants, or any female staff member who hasn’t at least found him attractive.”
“That’s a good sign then, right? He has to know if she liked him, and they work together fine, don’t they?”
“I would assume so.” She chuckles. “You’re really overthinking all of this, aren’t you?”
“I am. It’s awful. I swore I’d avoid people who didn’t want the same thing as me after my ex, Mitch, broke up with me. But now I’m in this weird limbo with Dr. Alexander… I have no clue what I’m doing.”
“Take it day by day, then. You two have some intense interactions, tension, and chemistry. Simon and I could feel it and see it the second Dr. Alexander came into the tent last night. Let nature act for you. You’ll either end up together or things will fizzle. As long as you’re both professional, it’ll be okay. Then hopefully, April becomes your primary point of contact and it’ll take more stress off you, no matter what happens.”
“You’re right.” I adjust my glasses and wipe my forehead. “Thank you.”
“Anytime,” Bridget replies, “If it’s meant to be, it will be, and it will work. If not, well, things will still work out in the end.”
“That’s true. I appreciate your time, but I’ll let you get back to your family now. Have a good day.”
“You too, Dee. Bye.”
“Talk to you later, bye.” We end the call and I set my phone down, thinking on what Bridget said, and realizing how right she really is.
All I can do is let things happen as they are meant to, it’ll all work out in the end the way it is supposed to, whether we explore more, or not.
Twelve
Nate
No amount of working out, no amount of weights, no amount of alcohol, or replaying our conversation over in my head during the past couple days has justified what happened on Saturday, what she said, or the deep feeling of loss, failure, and loneliness I’ve felt since she raked me over the coals in the parking lot.
She was so right, about everything, that just thinking about it causes my chest to constrict and my breathing to feel labored and heavy. I’ve avoided Jackson, I’ve avoided Xavier, even my parents’ call was sent to voicemail, and I know they just got back from a cruise. I’m just not in the mood to rehash why I’m so fucking down, when I should really be on top of the world.
The fundraiser was a hit. The carnival brought in a ton of money, even with us donating so much to the families who really didn’t have the funds to pay for anything. We are able to put that money earned back into the foundation, help more families, and get ready for our auction and gala. I should be ecstatic about it all, and I am, to an extent. I’m ecstatic for the families we helped and will be able to help going forward, but on a personal level, I feel like I’ve lost everything.
It’s strange, really. I never had her to lose. And my life is no different than it was on Friday night, not really.
But I’ve lost me.
I’ve lost who I used to be. I’ve lost who I always dreamed I would be. I lost me long before last night, I was just denying it and avoiding it.
And I was incredibly successful at avoiding it.
Sure, I have the great job, the fancy cars, a nice home, but my life is empty. Where I have all the materials I could ever possibly want, my world is bereft of companionship, love, loyalty.
I never would’ve imagined a conversation in a gravel parking lot with a beautiful, smart, brutally honest woman could turn my life upside down in such a hurry, but it did.
Now, sitting at home alone, when I look around my apartment, it feels barren. It’s clearly the home of an unhappy bachelor. Dark woods line the cabinets, black marble countertops cover white walls, stainless steel appliances provide a stark contrast to the monochromatic black and white feel. It’s a place with minimal furniture or decorations. Even the wood flooring feels cold and impersonal, though it is most practical.
It is very clearly an apartment that lacks the feminine touch. It lacks color, warmth, personality. That’s always been okay with me; now all I can think of, though, is how lonely someone walking in here would think I am. They’d take one look around and see a sterile, still place I use to eat, sleep, and shower in. She would take one look around and know without any doubt she was right.
I am lonely.
It bothers me.
It bothers me she thinks so little of me now.
It bothers me she sees right through every single wall, border, and boundary I have put in place to keep others out.
It bothers me I have been so successful at hiding me, my personal life, who I am—who I used to be—that I have become this person.
This life I’ve chosen to live has become so engrained in every part of my day, I don’t even know how to change it now.
There’s only one person I can think of who can help me make sense of all this, who might be able to point me in the right direction. I’m just not sure it’s a call worth making and taking shit over. I’m not sure holding off on making the call and continuing life like this is worth it either.
****
“Cut the shit and tell me why you really called, Nate. Seriously.” He sounds as irritated as I feel right now, and I have myself to blame for it.
“What do you mean?” It’s a stupid fucking question, considering I’ve been on the phone with Jackson for nearly twenty minutes now and haven’t brought up a single thing of any importance.
“I mean I’ve tried blowing you off subtly. I’ve tried blowing you off overtly. I’ve even hung up on your ass once, just to have you call me back thirty seconds later. What the fuck do you need to get off your chest?”
“You dick. You hung up on me?”
“Nate, Bro, cut to the chase or I’m hanging up and turning my phone off. What the hell is wrong?”
“Who says anything’s wrong?” I grab another cold beer from my refrigerator and pop the top off, taking a quick gulp.
“As your brother of thirty years, I know when there’s something on your mind you’re grappling with. So instead of listening to you blather about bullshit any longer, which is what you’re doing, so don’t argue, I’d rather you get on with it so I can enjoy my night before I have to get to bed to get up for another day of trial tomorrow.”
“Law school made you start using fancy, obnox—”
Jackson cuts me off and grates out, “Nate. Get to. The. Fucking. Point. Now.”
I let out a long sigh and take one last fortifying drink. “How the fuck d
o you do it?”
“Listen, I know it’s been a while since you’ve gotten ass, but I’m not having this talk with you,” he chortles.
“You were the one who wanted me to get to the point, asshole…”
Jackson goes silent briefly before I hear him exhale. “Okay, fine, how do I do what?”
“Balance life as Xavier Alexander’s brother and being Jackson Alexander, renowned attorney and eligible bachelor. How do you live life freely, openly, and not get used or kicked to the curb?”
“What happened?”
“I met someone.”
He lets out a low whistle, and I don’t need to see him to know he’s shaking his head with a shit-eating grin on his face. I can practically feel it over the phone. “She must be one hell of a woman to make you finally start seeing the light.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because you have been so fucking closed off since what’s her face, you’re basically living in the dark. Not everyone is out to get X’s dick and fame, Big Brother. And he won’t make the same mistake again, ever. In fact, if you are smart about who you date, and how quickly you let them in or kick them to the curb, you’ll find it’s pretty easy to see who is in it for you, and who’s in it to benefit off our last name and money.”
I walk out onto my balcony overlooking Providence and lean against the railing, holding my beer carefully so I don’t drop it to the sidewalk twenty stories below me. “Why haven’t you said any of that before?”
“You never seemed to need to hear it. What makes this one so different?”
I could tell him it’s the fact she didn’t bat an eye when she realized Xavier is my brother. I could tell him it’s because she’s gorgeous; hell, I could tell him it’s any number of superficial things, but the truth is, it’s all the little things I’ve noticed about her from the first day she ran into me on the elevator, but all of that would only scratch the surface. “So many things, and nothing at all.”
“I’m going to need to know a little more about why you’ve suddenly had this epiphany about finding balance. I’m an attorney, I deal with concrete evidence and facts.”
“Where do I even start?”
“Try the beginning, I’ve found that’s usually the best place.”
That’s where I’ll start, then. I’ll tell him everything from her smart-ass, irritating attitude and mouth, to her kind heart and beautiful grin. I’ll share every little thing and every big, right down to the haymaker she landed on my life and how I live the other night.
Hopefully in the end, he’ll be able to help me navigate this shit.
Thirteen
Dee
Tuesday morning comes far too quickly. I feel like it was just last night my head and heart were tossed into a blender and spun into oblivion where Dr. Alexander is concerned. In reality, it’s been just under sixty hours now. Sixty long hours where I’ve thought too much about him.
Sixty hours with three restless, sleepless nights thrown in.
I was so on edge coming into today I woke up a full hour early, bypassed staying in bed, and came to the hospital early to go over cases and charts from the weekend and for the day. Now I’m on the Med-Surg floor, leaning against the nurses’ station countertop filling out patient notes before moving on.
A piping hot cup of coffee is slid beneath my face and the steam and scent lift to my nose, making me inhale appreciatively.
“I thought you might need some coffee.” I don’t have to look up to know who is offering. Which is a good thing, because I don’t think I could hide the look of shock and confusion I’m feeling from him, or anyone else who may be watching this rare encounter.
“What are you doing?” I whisper as quietly as I can. “You don’t do being nice, especially at work, remember?”
He sets the coffee beside my chart and leans over the counter, grabbing a pen and setting his own chart down beside mine. “Let’s say I had a change of heart… To an extent.”
I glance at him clearly enough for him to catch it. “Meaning?”
“I brought coffee in for the entire floor this morning, even passed a few out to people I work directly with. So, you’re not special here, not obviously for everyone else to see.” He clears his throat and then speaks louder, in a volume meant for everyone to know this is just business as usual, “You worked with Mrs. Porter already, right?”
“Yes, Dr. Alexander.” I tip my head and raise my brows in his direction, letting him know my tone, the choice of words, is intentional and I’m getting his message loud and clear. “She did very well. Her daughter is coming in later today, she will be taking over care when her mom gets discharged.”
The coffee is too tempting, and I don’t need to appear bitchy, so I take the warm cup in my hand and sip it slowly, careful not to burn myself. “Thank you for the coffee.” I lower my voice again, “I’m going to need you to elaborate on the whole ‘to an extent thing’”
He reaches over and turns my chart to him, pretending to read over my notes for our patient, and speaks under his breath. “Meet me for lunch later? I should be out of surgery by two. The pizza place down the street?”
I turn the chart back to me and nod my head, answering him silently before I give in and take the olive branch he’s clearly trying to offer. I know he doesn’t want people here involved in his personal life, and as crazy as he makes me, I respect that, so I’ll play by the unspoken rules. “I’ll be sure I fix that when I input everything on the medical record at the end of my shift. Thanks for the coffee, and everything else.”
I close the chart and put it back where it belongs in the filing system for the nurses then walk away, sipping my coffee, and feeling his eyes pinned to me until I turn the corner and am out of sight.
Fourteen
Nate
I don’t know if she will come or not. I haven’t seen her since she walked away from me this morning. She passed my first test though. She stayed as quiet as she could when it came to speaking about anything other than our patients, and she even covered for me.
I’m climbing out on a limb, hanging over a drop that could very well kill me if I fall, and she’s the only one who can send out a rope and pull me in. I thought long and hard about what my brother said. I thought constantly about what she said, how she was right and I am lonely, and I’m willing to take a chance. I’m not willing to go all-in for everyone to know, but I’ll open up to her if she lets me. I’ll trust her piece by piece as she earns it and see where it takes us.
Assuming she shows up for lunch today.
I glance down at my watch, seeing the digital seconds ticking by and giving way to minutes passing, and she’s still not here. I can’t wait forever; I have to get back to the hospital. I know she can step away for a lunch break. She told me her supervisor covered for her last week so she could get a bite, I don’t think that’ll have changed by today.
Just as I’m standing from the table I’m at so I can order me a slice to go, I glance out the window and see her jogging up the sidewalk. Her hair is swiping back and forth against her neck as though it were a windshield wiper going in the rain. The headband she usually has pushed to the front of her forehead when she wears her hair this way is slipping backward, and she reaches up to adjust it when she makes it to the pizza shop door. With one hand reaching for her hair, and the other extended to the handle, she looks a little frazzled and irritated.
At least until she looks up and sees me watching her. Her look softens and her eyes seem to dilate just the slightest. Maybe she’s happy to see me here still. I really can’t think about it long because she’s through the door in another second, and her chest is heaving as she works to catch her breath from her jog.
“Do you know what happens when a post-op patient, who should only be getting out of bed with assistance, decides to try to walk to the bathroom alone before you can get a belt around them?”
I do. I’ve seen it many times, but I don’t need to say it. “I’m assuming it wasn’t one of
my patients?” I can’t help the smile that plasters over my face as she rolls her eyes.
“I would have paged you and saved myself a roughly two block run had it been one of yours.” With both hands on the back of the chair beside mine, she dips her head and hunches over a little, letting the last bits of her exhaustion recede. “It was Dr. Kim’s patient. And it took four of us to get her back into the bed. That’s why I’m late. I wasn’t standing you up.”
She glances my way, letting me see deep into her dark, chocolate brown eyes. “I thought you might be, so thanks for explaining.”
“I thought about it. I’m still not entirely sure what we are doing here. Want to fill me in?”
It’s a fair question. I even intend to answer. But I want to show her I can be different, at least a little. “I will. Slowly. Mostly, I wanted to apologize for Saturday night, and I want to get to know you, preferably over your favorite type of pizza, which would be…”
She pulls her chair out carefully, attempting to keep the legs from scraping loudly over the concrete floor. “Thin crust, extra cheese, and pepperoni.”
“How do you feel about banana peppers being added?”
She ponders momentarily then chuckles. “I like them in my sandwiches so I suppose I can agree to them on my pizza. Why? Do you like them?”
I stand up and shrug. “Your pizza with my banana peppers added is my favorite pizza. If you don’t want them I can order by the slice.”
“Nah, just get a pizza for us to share. You can take the rest home for dinner tonight.” It’s interesting she says I can take it, she didn’t expect me to just give it to her. “Let me know how much I owe you for half and a drink?”
I shake my head. “This one is on me, Dee. I was an asshole on Saturday, I owe you.”
The look on her face conveys I’ve been an asshole more times than just Saturday, but baby steps. I can’t change the past or what I did; I can only apologize and try to be better.
Doctor Desirable: A Hero Club Novel Page 8
