by Teresa Roman
I sighed. A lot of these patients who came in with hallucinations weren’t actually mentally ill, but high on methamphetamines. I opened up a chart note and started to fill in as much information as I could glean from my new patient, which wasn’t much considering almost none of the answers he gave made sense.
“So I was wondering if I could ask you something,” Jude said, taking a few steps closer.
“Yeah sure,” I replied, too distracted by my work to even bother wondering what he wanted.
“Do you want to go out to dinner sometime?” His question came out so quietly I almost thought I hadn’t heard him right. I’d been careful not to encourage him or show any signs of interest, so it took me by surprise that he’d just came right out and asked me on a date.
My face flushed. “Um, I don’t know if that’s such a good idea, considering how often you come in here. We’re practically co-workers, things could get weird.”
He frowned. “I’m not in here that much. And it’s just one date.”
“I . . . I don’t know.”
“Listen, all I’m asking for is a chance.”
I wanted to tell him no. I worked a lot, I had no time for dating, and even if I did, I was done taking chances on men. But he’d put me on the spot. I felt flustered and the pleading look in his eyes made it hard for me to say no and outright reject him like that. “All right. I guess.”
As soon as the words were out of my mouth I wanted to take them back, but it was too late for that.
Despite my half-hearted reply, Jude smiled broadly. It made his brown eyes sparkle, and revealed the cutest set of dimples I’d seen in a long time. Liz was right, he was cute. Not that I was going to let that sway me. He scribbled down his number on a small pad he pulled from one of his pockets and handed it to me.
“Can you call me after you get off?”
“Okay,” I said, half-heartedly.
“You promise?”
I nodded, then folded the paper and stuffed it into the pocket of my scrub pants. Jude turned and walked away. After he left I contemplated throwing his number out, but he wasn’t just some stranger I met in a bar that I’d most likely never see again. It was better if I was upfront with him. I’d agreed to one dinner. It couldn’t be that bad. Plus it would give me a chance to prove to him that the two of us were not right for each other, and then I wouldn’t have to deal with him trying to strike up a conversation every time he brought a patient to the ER. And the ultimate added bonus was that it would, at least temporarily, get Tracey off my back.
After getting home from work that evening, I ate dinner and showered, then got my washing machine started so I could run a load of laundry. It was when I emptied the pockets of my dirty scrubs that I remembered promising Jude I’d call him. Just one date, I reminded myself as I dialed his number. I could totally do that.
He answered after the first ring.
“Um, hello,” I said, surprised that he’d gotten on the line so quickly. “This is Dawn. Is Officer Morales there?”
“This is him. Who’s this?”
“It’s Dawn, from the ER,” I said feeling tongue-tied for some strange reason. “I was just calling so you’d have my number.”
“First of all, you don’t have to call me officer. I’ve already told you to call me Jude. And second of all, you’re not getting off the phone already, are you?” he asked. “We still need to figure out when and where I’m taking you to dinner.”
“I’m working for the next two days. Maybe after that.”
“That’s a Thursday, right?”
“Yup,” I said, drumming my fingers nervously on my table.
“Thursday works for me. What part of town do you live in?”
“Pasadena.”
“That’s perfect. I’m in Glendale, so you’re not that far. How about I pick you up at around six?”
Picking me up meant giving him my address, and I wasn’t about to do that since this date of ours was going to be a one-time deal.
“Maybe it’s better if we just met somewhere.”
He hesitated before replying, “Sure. If that’s what you want. Just tell me where.”
“What do you like to eat?” I asked.
“I’m up for anything.”
After a bit of back and forth, we finally settled on a sushi restaurant a few minutes’ drive from my apartment.
From the moment I hung up I couldn’t shake the voice in my head that kept asking me what I was doing. I tried to ignore it and convince myself that I hadn’t just made a huge mistake by agreeing to go out to dinner with Officer Jude Morales.
Chapter 7
Not counting lunch with Eric I hadn’t been on an actual date in so long I wasn’t sure what to wear, but eventually settled on jeggings and a long-sleeved blouse. Not that it mattered. I wasn’t concerned about making a good impression. I got in my car and drove the short distance to the restaurant where Jude and I planned to meet.
After parking, I spotted him waiting for me by the entrance. This was the first time I’d seen him out of uniform, and I wasn’t sure which look I preferred. In uniform he looked tougher, more rugged, maybe because his Kevlar vest made his shoulders look even broader than they already were. But out of it he looked more sophisticated. Either way, he was handsome. His tan complexion, and dark hair and eyes gave him that tall, dark and handsome look that women always fawn over.
“Hey,” he said, smiling and opening the door for me. The skeptic in me wondered if he was only being a gentleman in an effort to impress me so he could get in my pants later. A mistake I’d vowed after Eric I’d never make again. If Jude thought he was going to get me into bed by the end of the night, he was going to be sorely disappointed.
The hostess walked us over to a table where I hung my jacket and purse on the back of my chair before sitting down. She handed us menus and walked away.
“So what do you recommend?” Jude asked as he scanned the menu.
“Well, it depends on what you like.”
“Um, I’m not really sure since I’ve never actually had sushi before.”
My eyes widened. “How is that even possible?” This was LA, after all—sushi restaurants were everywhere.
“I usually just eat what I know, which is mostly Mexican food and burgers.”
I frowned. “So why did you say yes when I suggested this place?”
“Just because I’ve never had sushi before doesn’t mean I don’t want to try it.”
I looked over the menu searching for something he might enjoy, though it was hard to decide given that I didn’t know anything about Jude other than he was a cop. “Maybe we should order a few things and share. That way if you don’t like something you’re not stuck with it.”
He smiled. “Sounds like a good idea.”
A few minutes later, we gave our orders to the server. After he walked away Jude stared across the table at me. “You look really nice.”
“Thanks,” I replied. “You do, too. But I gotta admit it’s kind of weird seeing you out of your uniform.”
“Weird in a good way?”
“I guess I didn’t really mean weird, I meant different.” I looked over my shoulder, searching for the server, figuring that our meal would be the perfect escape from uncomfortable first date conversation. I hadn’t anticipated feeling this tongue-tied and nervous.
“It’s pretty cold tonight,” Jude said, obviously trying to come up with something to talk about.
“Yeah,” I said, fiddling with my napkin. “Makes me wish I had a fireplace.”
Another awkward silence descended until finally the server returned with a variety of rolls: spicy tuna, California, Philadelphia and one with smoked salmon.
Jude seemed hesitant.
“Go on, try them.”
He pulled his chopsticks out of the paper sleeve they came in and managed to get each roll in his mouth in almost one piece.
“You can always ask for a fork,” I said, trying not to laugh.
“Nah,
I’m fine. I’m already getting the hang of these things.”
“So what do you think?”
“This spicy one is the best,” Jude said, pointing at it with his chopsticks.
“It’s my favorite, too.”
“So that means we have something in common.” His smile, and the dimples they brought out, returned. “We both like spicy food.”
“The spicier, the better,” I agreed.
Jude proceeded to spend the next few minutes of conversation trying to unearth what else the two of us had in common. The more questions he asked, the more uncomfortable I got. I was actually enjoying his company, which set off all sorts of alarms bells in my head. This was how I’d gotten suckered in by Nick, then Eric. I was not about to let that happen again.
“Listen,” I finally said, working up the courage to say what needed to be said. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I just don’t think the two of us are right for each other.”
He looked at me quizzically. “How can you say that when you haven’t really given me a chance?”
“A chance to what? Convince me that you’re a nice guy so I’ll invite you over to my place after dinner?”
“What makes you think that’s what I was planning on doing?”
“I’ve been working in the ER long enough to know what kind of reputation you guys have.”
“By ‘you guys’ are you referring to all men in general or just Mexicans?”
I frowned. “No, it has nothing to do with you being Mexican,” I said, surprised and a little embarrassed at his suggestion. I wasn’t interested in dating him, but I didn’t want him thinking it was because of his ethnicity.
“Then what does it have to do with?”
I took a sip of water, regretting the direction our conversation had headed. I’d put my foot in my mouth and now there was no taking my words back. “All I’m trying to say is that cops and paramedics are known to be players.”
He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms over his chest. “So if I was a doctor instead of a cop, you’d be giving me a chance. Is that what you’re saying?”
My face flushed. “I didn’t mean it like that,” I said. “It’s just that I’m not interested in dating. I’m being honest here. Can we just leave it at that?”
“So why’d you agree to go out with me in the first place?”
“I was at work. You put me on the spot, and you weren’t exactly taking no for an answer.” I spotted the server out of the corner of my eye and flagged him over. “Can we get the check please?” I was ready for dinner to be over.
“Sure, I’ll be right back with it.”
I turned my attention back to Jude. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said what I did about cops and paramedics. I’m sure some of them are perfectly nice.” I just wasn’t usually lucky enough to attract those kinds of men, but I didn’t want to admit that to Jude.
“You want to know what they say about nurses?” Jude asked, still clearly flustered.
“What?”
“That you’re not interested in dating a police officer because you’re too busy hoping some rich doctor will ask you out instead.”
I bristled at his comment. “That’s not true.”
“So you’re telling me that none of the nurses you’ve ever worked with hope to marry a doctor one day?”
“No,” I confessed, “not exactly.” I’d come across a few who’d had that dream. But despite my stupid crush on Dr. Eric Kennedy, I wasn’t one of them. I’d liked him because I thought he was nice and funny, not because he was a doctor.
“Would you have liked it if I assumed you were like that?”
“Point taken,” I said, practically grabbing the check from the server who’d just returned with it. While I reached into my purse to look for my wallet Jude pulled his out of his back pocket and handed a credit card to the server.
“Wait,” I said to the server. “We’re splitting the tab.”
“No. We are not,” Jude said. “I invited you out to dinner, which means I’m paying. Despite what you’ve been led to believe, some of us cops are gentlemen.”
The poor server stood there for a moment looking like he wasn’t sure what to do. I didn’t like the idea of Jude paying for the entire dinner, especially since our date hadn’t gone well, but I wasn’t about to sit there and argue with him, either. “Fine.”
We sat there silently—both of us clearly uncomfortable—while we waited for Jude’s credit card to be returned. After it was, I got up and put my jacket on. Jude followed me outside.
“It’s dark out. Let me walk you to your car.”
“That’s not necessary,” I said. “I’m not parked that far away.”
I took off before he could protest, sparing him only a quick glance over my shoulder as I pressed the unlock button on my car key. He stood exactly where I’d left him, watching me, no doubt to make sure I made it safely inside my car, but I was too angry to appreciate his gesture and too busy feeling sorry for myself to care. The only thing I wanted to do was get as far away from Jude Morales as I could and put our date from hell behind me.
Chapter 8
Early the next morning I woke to the sound of my phone ringing. I groaned when I saw Tracey’s number on the screen, knowing she was calling to ask how my date went, but pressed the phone to my ear anyway.
“So, how’d it go?” she practically chirped in my ear.
“How did what go?” I asked, toying with her.
“Oh, come on. You know what I’m talking about. Your date with the hot cop.”
“You mean the one you pushed me to go on, even though I told you it was a huge mistake? It went horribly. Worse date I’ve ever been on, in fact.”
“What?” She sounded incredulous. “Why? I swear he seemed like a nice guy.”
“So did Eric,” I reminded her.
“What happened? Did he try sleeping with you? What an asshole.”
“Actually, no. It wasn’t that,” I said, replaying the stupid argument Jude and I had gotten into in my head. I’d had a chance to cool down and now that I thought about it, I realized how ridiculous I’d behaved. I should have just told him I wasn’t interested in dating and kept my mouth shut about police officers being players.
“Then what happened?”
“Nothing,” I said, not wanting to get into details with Tracey. “We’re just not right for each other, that’s all.”
“And you know this for sure based on one dinner?”
“Yes.”
“But—”
“Don’t even think about trying to set me up with anyone else. No sending any guys my way, no telling them I’m single and that they should talk to me. None of that. Got it?”
“Okay, okay. Don’t bite my head off. I was just trying to help.”
“I know,” I said, softening. “But I already told you I’m not looking to get involved with anyone right now.”
“I swear, girl, you’ve got more walls around you than a medieval castle.”
“Can we just talk about something else?” I said. My walls were there for a reason. I’d let them down for Eric only to wind up getting burned. I would not make that mistake again
“Um, actually no. My mom is on the other line so I gotta go.”
After getting off the phone, I let out a deep sigh and lay back down on my bed. I didn’t stay there for long though. Lying there doing nothing only made me think about Jude and our disaster of a date and all the things I’d said to him that I now regretted. I looked at my phone, tempted to call him and apologize, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it, worried he’d get the wrong idea. Instead I got out of bed and blended up a protein shake, even though I didn’t particularly like them, and then got dressed. I spent an hour in the gym in my apartment complex and another in the pool swimming laps before returning home.
For the next two days, I couldn’t stop my mind from wandering back to my date with Jude. I contemplated calling him about a half dozen times, but could never
quite work up the nerve to apologize until I finally decided that I’d rather get it over with sooner rather than later and over the phone rather than at work where someone might overhear our conversation.
I was nervous as I dialed his number. Saying sorry wasn’t something I’d ever been particularly good at.
“This is a surprise,” he said, after answering.
“Um, yeah. I’m calling because . . . well, I wanted to say sorry. I shouldn’t have said what I did the other day.”
“I’m sorry, too,” Jude said. “And I’d really like if we could put it behind us.”
“That would be . . . great.” I waited for him to reply, when he didn’t I continued. “Listen, the thing is, I haven’t had much luck with guys lately, which isn’t your fault, but—”
“We’re not all the same, you know.”
“Right, I know that. But—”
“You’re not ready to date,” he said, finishing my thought.
“Yeah.”
“I understand.”
“Well, I should probably go,” I said, glad that I’d gotten that off my chest.
“Okay,” Jude replied. “I guess I’ll see you around.”
I sat there for a moment trying to process my strange mix of emotions. I was relieved that Jude hadn’t tried to talk me into another date, but at the same time I felt sad and empty—a feeling that stayed with me until I went to bed, though I wasn’t quite sure why. I fell asleep looking forward to the distraction that work the next day would bring.
I got stuck working with Eric again. I grumbled when I saw his initials up on the board. We were short on nurses because two of them had called in sick, which meant the chances of being assigned one of Eric’s patients was greater than ever. It also meant that he’d be in a bad mood. Fewer nurses meant fewer open beds, and fewer open beds meant patients had longer wait times, which always put Eric on edge because his performance was partly measured by how quickly patients were seen.
We managed to stay out of each other’s way for most of the morning. Still, I couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief when my lunch break finally came. Halfway through my microwave meal Liz walked into the break room.
