by Adele Hart
I freeze, knowing that most of the people in the waiting room heard her. “Yes, well, who do we have first?”
“Exam room three, drunk girl. Twisted ankle.” She hands me the file and shakes her head.
Without opening the folder, I walk down the hall and into the exam room where I find a very pale brunette passed out on the exam table. It takes me a moment to say anything. I’m too overcome by how lovely she is to speak. She’s wearing a blue coverup but I can see the outline of her bikini through the flimsy fabric. She’s all soft curves and her flowing wavy hair falls across her ample chest. The sight of her stirs something deep inside me, something primal that has been dormant for a very long time. Remembering where I am and who I am, I open the file and read her name. Lila Yates. Lila. A voice pops into my head and says, ‘here she is.’ Telling myself she’s just another drunk girl, I decide to get on with it.
I clear my throat but she doesn’t move. “Lila?”
Nothing. I place my hand on her shoulder and gently squeeze her arm, feeling a jolt of heat work its way through me. “Lila, I’m Dr. Stone. I need you to wake up so I can examine your ankle.”
Rolling away from me, she waves one hand in the air and mumbles, “Not now. So sleepy…”
I raise my voice a little. “Yes, now, Ms. Yates. You’re in the hospital and I need to take a look at your ankle.”
Her eyes slowly open and she manages to focus on me, then smiles. “Did Gina find you for me?”
I sigh, thinking of all those years of med school going to waste. “I don’t know a Gina. Can you tell me what happened to your ankle?”
“Okay, I’ll play along.” Lila grins and giggles. “You’re a stripper, right? Or a gigolo? Gina told you I have a thing for doctors, didn’t she?”
“Ms. Yates, sit up, please. I assure you I am a real doctor and your ankle is very swollen. Even though I’m sure you can't feel it right now because of all the alcohol you’ve ingested.” I grip her upper arms and lift her to a seated position.
She sways a little and laughs, then runs one finger down my chest. “You’re not a real doctor. Doctors don’t look like you.” She smiles. “You’re too hot to be smart. You’re too hot to be real, actually. This must be some funny dream.”
“Not for me, it isn’t. Now focus. How did you hurt your ankle?”
She tilts her head forward to look toward her feet and almost falls off the table. I steady her and then roll a stool over to me with one foot and sit down. Taking her right foot, I prop it up on my thigh.
“Oh,” she says. “That looks bad.”
“Yes, it does. I’m guessing from the shape you’re in, that you have no idea how this happened.” I tenderly touch her ankle and she winces in response.
“Sorry, I’m not normally this drunk. I recently had a bad sexual experience and flew here with a friend to forget about it.” She hiccups. “But I doubt you know what it’s like to fall for someone then have them leave you right after they sleep with you.” She leans toward me a little and whispers, “It really hurts.”
“Your ankle?"
“No, being used and thrown away.” She looks up at the ceiling and says, “My ankle, too, now that you mention it. What happened to it?”
I can no longer contain my smile. She’s not just another drunk. She’s cute and funny and very vulnerable. “If I had to guess, I’d say you fell.”
“I fell all right. I fell for every lie. He just seemed so sincere, you know?”
“Lila, your friend wouldn’t happen to be here, would she? The one who came with you to St. Lucia?”
“Oh, you’re probably interested in her. She’s a real beauty. I don’t think she’s here, actually. She went back to Ryan’s room with him so he could show her his ‘shell collection.’” She makes little air quotes and giggles, then holds one hand next to her mouth, palm out like she's about to tell me a huge secret. “I don’t think he has any shells. I’m pretty sure they’re screwing right now.”
“I imagine you’re right.” I gently put her foot down, then stand. “Let’s get an x-ray of this and see what we’re dealing with. I’ll have an orderly come in and take you down to imaging in a few minutes.”
“Okay, Dr. Gorgeous.”
“It’s Dr. Stone.”
“As in your muscles are hard as stone under that lab coat? Or you stay as hard as stone when you’re…you know.” She grins as she lays back down. “I’ll just have a little nap until it’s time for my x-ray.”
I leave Lila to sleep it off for a few hours before I put in the request for her x-ray. I turn her on her side and tuck a few pillows behind her to keep her from rolling onto her back, then check on her several times. It’s well after midnight when I get the film from the imaging department. I walk back into the exam room and leave the lights low while I have a look. Lila stirs and sits up. “Is it broken?”
I shake my head and smile. “Just a bad sprain.”
“Good.” She rubs her head a little and her stomach growls loudly.
“Forgot to have supper?”
“That’s what I was about to do when I fell.”
“Oh, so you remember falling now?”
“Yes.” Her face turns bright pink. “I also remember thinking you were a gigolo.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“I’m really sorry. I’m not much of a drinker so it hit me hard today.”
“I could tell.” I give her a little grin. “Listen, let me go scrounge up a bandage and some crutches for you so you can go get some food.”
“Thanks.”
“Do you want someone to try to reach your friend?”
Lila shakes her head. “No, I’ll just grab a cab back to the resort.”
“Sounds good. I’ll be back in a minute.”
I make my way to the medical supplies closet and find what I need, regret filling me that I’m going to discharge her, and I’ll never get to see her again. But it’s not like I can ask her out. I’m her doctor and she’s my patient. And even if it was okay for me to date her, she’ll be leaving the island in a week, never to return.
When I get back to the room, she’s sitting up on the examining bed, and she gives me a shy smile.
I sit down on the stool and get to work on her ankle, wrapping it as carefully as I can. “I can send you back to the resort with some painkillers but only if you promise no more drinking.”
“I’m done for the week, I think. Today was enough booze for me for a year.”
Five
Lila
I stand in front of the hospital, propped up on the crutches Dr. Stone gave me, feeling the warm tropical air against my skin. It’s hard to imagine that it’s almost three o’clock in the morning and yet it’s so hot out. I’ve been waiting for almost twenty minutes for a cab, but there are no signs of one coming. The nurse who called the cab company for me said that they usually take at least an hour at this time of night. My stomach growls loudly, reminding me that I haven’t really eaten a meal since I arrived in the Caribbean. I wonder what kind of food is available at the resort at this hour, if anything. God, I hope it’s French fries.
My mind wanders back to Dr. Stone as it has about a million times since I hobbled my way out of the exam room. He was some kind of hot. And really nice, too. I’m sure he’s probably married or has a gorgeous girlfriend waiting for him back at some fabulous place here on the island. I sigh, thinking about Trey, reminding myself that I’m not one of the beautiful people. Maybe, if I’m really lucky, I’ll find some nice, plain guy who will want to spend his life with me.
The doors to the ER slide open behind me, and I turn in time to see Dr. Stone coming through them, dressed in jeans and a white T-shirt. Oh, God. Do not look at him! It’s like looking at the sun—hot and potentially dangerous.
“Oh, Lila. You’re still waiting for a cab?” he asks, stopping next to me.
“Shouldn’t be long now,” I say, trying to look hopeful.
He stares at me for a moment, then says, �
�I shouldn’t do this, but I don’t like the idea of you standing out here alone at this hour. Do you want a lift back to the resort?”
“No, I couldn’t put you out like that. I’m sure your wife is waiting up for you. Thanks for the offer though.”
“There’s no one waiting up for me, and I’d like to drive you. Seriously.”
I give him a skeptical look. “Why would you want to do that? You must be really tired.”
He stares at me for a moment, his grey eyes soft. “Because I’d like to make up for the horrible welcome you’ve had to St. Lucia. So far, your dream vacation has been a bit of a nightmare. I’d like to fix that so you’ll come back again soon.”
“Do you work for the tourism board on the side?” I ask with a little grin.
Dr. Stone chuckles. “I would if I could make sure all the tourists were like you.” He holds up his car keys. “You coming or not?”
“You’re not some sort of serial killer who’s going to dump my body in the sea, are you?”
“Would I tell you if I were?”
“No, but I figure that I’ll be able to see some signs of it if I ask.”
“So? Any signs of me being a psychopath?”
“Not that I can see.” My stomach rumbles again. “But a girl can never be too careful.”
He leads me to his Jeep, walking slowly beside me as I get used to my crutches. He opens the door for me, then helps me get in, sending waves of warmth through my entire body when he takes my hand. My lady bits now fight my stomach for what my brain should focus on.
“You okay?” he asks when I’m settled in the passenger seat.
“Yes, good, thanks.” I smile at him, then watch as he closes the door and puts my crutches in the back.
“Where to, Miss?” He says as he gets in the driver’s seat.
“The resort is called the Puesta del Sol.” I say in my horrible Spanish accent.
“Oh, that’s where most of our patients come from. That place is wild.” He starts up the engine and pulls out of the parking stall.
“Yeah, I noticed. I didn't exactly research it before I booked. It was cheap and I needed to escape for a while.”
“What were you hoping for?”
“Somewhere quiet to read my way through my Kindle.”
“Ahh, I see.”
We drive in silence for a moment until my stomach speaks up for me.
Dr. Stone looks over at me. “How long has it been since you ate?”
“Airplane food at lunchtime.”
“Yikes. Do you want to stop for something on the way? There’s a diner that serves breakfast all night a few blocks from here, and there’s literally no way I could kill you after we’re seen out in public together.”
“Good point. It would be too risky.” I nod. “Let’s go.”
“Denny’s? They have Denny’s here?”
“Yup. Just opened last year.”
“I can get Moons Over My Hammy! It was my favorite post-drinking meal in college.” I grin excitedly as he makes a right into the parking lot. Trey’s look of disgust pops into my head and my heart drops, realizing I probably should skip the ham and eggs.
A few minutes later we’re seated at a booth across from each other. My leg is propped up and I’m sitting sideways on the soft bench. The waitress, who has a tag that says, ‘I’m Henrietta, Ask Me About Our Free Drink Refills,’ slaps two menus down on the table and says, “Coffee, right?”
Dr. Stone says, “Yes, please. You, Lila?”
“Sure, a decaf, please.”
Henrietta writes on her order pad and mutters, “One coffee and one what’s-the-point?”
She’s about to walk away, when Dr. Stone says, “Can we also trouble you for a bag of ice and a dish towel for her ankle?”
She pauses and glares at him for a second, but then his gorgeous, warm smile wins her over and she relents. She turns and calls over her shoulder, “All right, but you’re going to owe me!”
I open my menu to look for a healthier choice than what I’m really craving. “So, where are you from, Dr. Stone?” I ask, keeping my eyes on the menu in front of me.
“Call me Ben.”
“Okay.” I feel my face go red at the sound of his name. Ben. I can imagine that name escaping my lips in the throes of passion. Hoping he can’t read my mind, I say, “Where are you from, Ben?”
“Boston. Born and raised.”
“I thought I detected a bit of a New England accent.”
“Did you? When I go home to visit, my dad says I sound like a damn foreigner.”
“He’s just jealous that you get to live here and he’s there.”
Ben grins. “That could be. What about you?”
“Chicago, but I moved to New York three years ago for work.”
Henrietta brings our coffees and a plastic bag filled with ice, along with a dish towel. “There you go, Princess.”
“Thanks.” My face heats up with embarrassment.
She flips open her order pad and gets her pen ready. “What can I get you to eat?”
Ben answers for both of us, “Two Moons Over My Hammy, please.”
I shake my head. “Make that one. I should stick with a yogurt and fruit cup.”
She nods and walks away.
As soon as she’s gone, Ben narrows his eyes. “I thought we were reliving our college days?”
“I’m too old for that. I don’t have a teenage metabolism anymore. Not that I ever did.”
“What are you talking about? You’re not overweight.”
I roll my eyes. “Uh, yeah, I am.”
“No, you’re not. I’m so sick of women thinking they have to have a thigh gap to be beautiful. You’re lovely—and healthy—the way you are.” He gazes at me for a moment, then says, “I like a woman with a little something to hold onto.”
My entire body turns to mush and I find myself not knowing where to look while I try to hide my smile.
Ben turns and waves down Henrietta just as she’s passing by with a pot of coffee. “Can you change our order? Make it two Moons Over My Hammies?”
She sighs, then shakes her head at me. “You’re one high maintenance young lady.”
“Not normally,” I say as she walks away, but she’s already gone. I look at Ben with a sheepish expression. “I actually don’t like it when people make a fuss over me.”
“Which means you’re exactly the type of girl that everyone should make a fuss over.”
The sun is completely up by the time we leave Denny’s. When we step out of the restaurant, the early morning heat and humidity wrap around me, reminding me I’m about as far from New York as I could be. I fill my lungs with the fragrant air and smile. I’m really here in St. Lucia, and even though my ankle is throbbing, I’ve just had the longest, most wonderful conversation with a man in my entire life. At Denny’s, but still. At Denny’s in St. Lucia.
“I can’t believe we sat there for so long. You must be exhausted,” I say as we make our way to the Jeep again.
“I’m not. For some strange reason, I’m filled with energy this morning.”
“Must be the moons.”
“Or the hammies.”
We laugh a little and it occurs to me that I never did laugh with Trey. Not once. He didn’t seem to get my jokes, but Ben does. When we get to the Jeep, he opens the door and takes my hand to help me. I stare up at him for a moment, memorizing his perfect, chiselled face, suddenly terrified that I’ll never see him again. In the last three hours, I’ve shared more with him about myself than I ever did with Trey in weeks of dating. It wasn’t just because I was rambling, but because he kept asking question after question, never seeming to tire of finding out about me.
He glances down at my lips for a second, then seems to think better of it. “I should get you back to your resort. Your friend will be worried by now.”
“Doubt it. She’ll be passed out ‘til noon, I’m sure.”
“Sounds like a great friend.”
“She
is, but she’s not the type to mother anyone. With Gina, it’s every woman for herself.” My words trail off as I take in the expression in his eyes. There’s an intensity there that draws me in and scares me at the same time. “Well, I suppose I should let you get some sleep. You probably have to work later.”
He shakes his head. “I have a few days off, actually.”
“Oh, that's nice. What do you plan to do?”
“Not sure yet. Haven’t really thought about it.” He swallows hard, then leans down a bit. “Would you…like to do something, maybe?”
“I would.”
“I was hoping you’d say that.”
“I was hoping you’d ask.” He lowers his face to mine, and I know he’s about to kiss me. My heart pounds in anticipation. I close my eyes and our lips meet and I find myself being kissed like I never have before. There’s a passion that flows through us that could provide power to the entire island. His tongue finds mine, and I moan with pleasure. Lust and longing flow through me as he leans me against the Jeep and lets his hands run down my curves. He grips my hips and moves in closer, pinning me to the vehicle, his body pressed up against mine. I feel his stone-hard erection against my stomach and feel myself becoming wet and ready. I don’t care if we’re in a parking lot in the early morning sun. I don’t care if anyone is watching. I want this man. Now.
Just then, a voice comes from across the parking lot. “Dr. Stone? Is that you?”
We turn to see a short man staring at us. He glances at my crutches then back to Ben, then shakes his head.
Ben pulls away from me a bit and says, "Oh, hi Dr. Harper. I didn't see you there."
"I suppose you wouldn't have." He looks at me and says, "Aren't you the sprained ankle from last night?"
I nod, feeling like a kid who just got caught smoking in the boy's room.
Dr. Harper narrows his eyes at Ben. “I’ll see you in my office first thing on your next shift.”
He turns and gets in his sedan, then shakes his head at us as he pulls out of the stall.
“Shit,” Ben says, raking one hand through his hair.
