Perfect Distraction

by Allison Ashley

  “Is she single?” Jeni asked.

  Andrew shifted in the chair, the movement creaking across the leather material. He glared at Jeni, and she shot him a deceptively innocent expression.

  Mandi paused. “Yes, I think she is.” Her eyes went to Andrew as she answered, like he’d been the one to ask the question.

  He looked at her blankly, not sure how to respond.

  Mandi offered a small smile. “You’re all ready to go. I’ll be back when it’s time to switch them out.”

  “Thank you,” Rhonda said, and Andrew realized he’d almost forgotten she was there. She’d always been the quiet one.

  Maybe she should be his new favorite sister.

  Mandi walked away and Andrew immediately whisper-yelled at Jeni, “I’m going to kill you.”

  The smug expression on her face grated on his nerves.

  “We’ll see about that.”

  Chapter Three

  Lauren exited the infusion center with mixed emotions.

  Gavin had cornered her as soon as she’d arrived, which had put her on edge. He was one of only two male nurses employed on the third floor—the other a graying, fifty-something who was happily married and showed off photos of his grandkids at every opportunity. Gavin was young, single, and clearly ready to mingle, chasing after anything with breasts. He’d dated his way through half of the female nursing staff and a few weeks ago had set his sights on Lauren. At first it had been harmless flirting, but then he’d asked her out.

  Too bad for him, she’d been warned.

  Even if she hadn’t, his arrogant approach wouldn’t have gotten him far. She’d politely declined each invitation for dinner or drinks, but he didn’t seem deterred. It was almost as if her disinterest was a challenge Gavin was determined to overcome, which only deepened her dislike for him. A guy who didn’t know the meaning of the word no was one she wanted nothing to do with.

  And then, not ten seconds after she extracted herself from Gavin’s wandering eyes and condescending chatter, her gaze had landed on Andrew. And her heart had leapt so high, it’d nearly lodged in her throat.

  Not the appropriate response a health care provider should have for a patient. Even one that wasn’t under her direct care. It still felt…wrong, somehow.

  But she couldn’t help but smile when she saw him…and good Lord, his shirt had been pulled up slightly by the IV tubing, and the ridged muscles she glimpsed were enough to make her knees go weak.

  The image flashed through her mind now, as she rode the elevator to the sixth floor.

  Stop. He’s a patient going through a serious illness. Plus, looking like he does, he’s probably just as much a womanizer as Gavin. If not more so.

  Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she glanced at the screen.

  Dad.

  She quickly silenced the call and put her phone away. He knew she didn’t like to answer her phone while she was at work.

  Which was probably exactly why he chose now to call. He wasn’t much for texting, so he’d taken to calling her during work hours and leaving voicemails outlining his requests when he wanted something.

  Lauren reached the office she shared with two other clinical pharmacists, finding the small room empty. One of them was on service at the hospital this month and was never around, and the other was probably still in clinic. As a resident, rather than a full-time employee, Lauren’s desk was the smallest and shoved between a bookcase and the back wall with no room to spare.

  Lauren approached her desk and opened the bottom drawer, pulling out her purse and sliding it over her shoulder in one fluid motion. She didn’t spend more time in here than she had to…preferring to either remain in Dr. Patel’s clinic after hours or leave the cancer center altogether when she’d finished with her patient responsibilities.

  It was just after three o’clock, and there were no patients left to see. But she had a review article for the American Journal of Pharmacy due on Monday, so she stopped at The Grind House before going home.

  She’d discovered the nearby coffee shop during her first week at the cancer center. It was close enough that if they called her in, she could be there within minutes, and offered a less sterile backdrop when studying or working on a research project. The warm, comforting scent of coffee and low hum of conversation were just enough to distract her when she needed a break.

  Ten minutes after she’d settled into her usual table, Tyler plopped down across from her.

  He slid a chocolate chip cookie across the table with wide eyes, one finger against his lips. He would forever be her favorite barista.

  “You’re so good to me,” Lauren said. “On your break?”

  “Yep.”

  “How’s your day going?”

  “No small talk. I need to go make a call, but I had to stop over and tell you.”

  Tyler’s charisma never ceased to make Lauren smile. “Tell me what?”

  “The hot guy came back.”

  Lauren played dumb, despite the fact that every time she walked through the door she thought of Andrew.

  Pre-patient Andrew.

  She’d also gone back to her routine beverage and hadn’t ordered a self-serve coffee since that morning, lest she repeat her clumsiness with some other hotter-than-sin man who might be in the vicinity.

  “Hot guy?” she asked.

  Tyler lifted his eyebrow like it was his job. “Don’t pull that with me. You know exactly who I’m talking about, and he was in here yesterday.”

  “I don’t know why you’re telling me,” Lauren said. Patient privacy laws prevented her from telling Tyler about Andrew showing up at the cancer center, so she had no out other than pretending to be uninterested.

  “Damn, you’re infuriating.” Tyler stood. “Fine, I’ll act like I didn’t notice you checking him out the other day, before and after you spilled coffee on him. And I’ll pretend I didn’t notice him doing the same thing.”

  That got her attention.

  “He did?”

  A smug grin settled across Tyler’s features as he nodded.

  Lauren filed that tidbit away to think about later. For now, she said, “Well, be that as it may, I don’t know the guy, and I’m sure he’s not interested in me. No matchmaking, okay?”

  Tyler snorted and turned away.

  Lauren jolted up and grabbed his arm. “Tyler, I mean it. Promise me.”

  Tyler held up three fingers before he left, and Lauren giggled at the image of him as a pre-teen in a Boy Scout uniform.

  She stayed for another hour before starting her commute home.

  When she’d first started pharmacy school at UMKC College of Pharmacy, she’d lived in an apartment nearby and could have walked home from here. But halfway through the four-year program she’d decided to rent a house farther south in Waldo. Living near downtown had been fun at first, but she preferred something quieter. Now, her drive was twenty or thirty minutes, depending on traffic, but the charming ranch-style home she’d found, built in the 1940s, was worth it. With a soft gray-blue exterior, white shutters, and a yard full of mature trees, the twelve-hundred-square-foot home was the first place she’d ever called her own.

  She realized as she checked her mailbox—empty, as usual—and pulled into the partially shaded driveway that she’d lived in this house nearly four years now, with almost nine between the states of Missouri and Kansas, if she counted undergrad at KU.

  By this point, she rarely thought of her prior life in Oklahoma. Other than a few good friends who kept in touch, there wasn’t much left for Lauren in the state where she was born. Her only contact with her mother was a call on her birthday. She spoke to her dad more frequently, but she certainly wouldn’t consider them close.

  Lauren fished her phone from her purse and pulled up the voicemail as she walked through the dappled sunlight to the front door.

>   Might as well get it over with.

  “Lauren, it’s Dad. I was just calling to ask if you were planning to come home for Thanksgiving or Christmas. Several of my staff asked for the holidays off, and I was hoping you might be around to cover some shifts at the store. It’s a good idea to keep up your familiarity with the system, you know, if you decide to—”

  Lauren cut the message off, silencing her father’s nasally voice and the guilt-ridden thoughts that arose in her own head. She’d deal with that later.

  She stepped into her house. Enough sunlight streamed through the sheer curtains in the entry and living room that she didn’t even flip on a light switch. Ever practical, she’d chosen furnishings that were neutral-colored and cozy, and she felt a sense of calm each time she walked through the door.

  She changed clothes, warmed up leftover pizza, and ate in front of the television. Just after seven, her phone buzzed with an incoming message.

  Emma: Let’s go out tonight.

  Lauren: Meh.

  Emma: Come on. I know you’re just sitting on your couch watching some weird ass documentary.

  Lauren: Am not.

  She was sitting in the oversized armchair.

  Emma: What are you doing, then?

  Lauren: I don’t wanna say.

  Emma: I knew it.

  Emma: We’re young, hot twenty-something’s who work hard and deserve a night on the town.

  Lauren: But I’m already in my Netflix pants.

  Emma: Please? I’ll bring you a Danish from Annie’s on Monday.

  Lauren: Damn you.

  Emma: McNellie’s at eight?

  Lauren: Fine.

  She remained in her chair for a few minutes before dragging herself from the living room to her bedroom and stood in front of the open closet. She was a natural homebody, but she needed to put herself out there if she ever wanted to meet new people in this town. She’d made several friends in pharmacy school, but most had moved away after graduation. The first year of residency had been grueling, and she’d barely had time for a social life, but the second year felt more relaxed.

  She had been lucky to be assigned the lymphoma clinic early on, because she’d immediately hit it off with Emma and Kiara. If it weren’t for Emma, she doubted she’d ever leave her house other than for work. Even though it sometimes took convincing to get her out, she usually enjoyed herself.

  Lauren chose a black top that went with jeans, finishing the look with a pair of heels. She grabbed a dark gray cardigan and stuffed it into her oversized handbag, anticipating that the October evening would turn chilly as the night wore on.

  The low-key pub was in the River Market district, an up-and-coming area popular with young professionals. McNellie’s was one of Lauren’s favorite places to go, because it felt more like a place to hang out with friends than a place to see and be seen. The décor was eclectic, the servers were friendly, and televisions were mounted throughout, playing whatever game was on that night.

  Unsurprisingly, Lauren arrived before Emma. Punctuality was a habit Lauren couldn’t seem to break, despite knowing that Emma would be ten minutes late to her own wedding.

  Lauren found a two-person high-top table near the bar and ordered a beer while she waited. She took a sip and her gaze roamed around the low-lit room. Several yards away, a man wearing a fitted long-sleeved navy shirt and jeans leaned casually on the bar. His shoulders were broad and his brown hair was just barely visible underneath a worn baseball cap on his head.

  From the back, he looked an awful lot like Andrew. Without conscious thought, Lauren straightened, a vibration of excitement zipping through her. Just as quickly, she pursed her lips and scolded herself for her reaction. She forced herself to look away, focusing on the basketball game playing overhead. Yet her eyes kept drifting down, hoping he’d turn so she could really see him. Was it…?

  “Sorry I’m late.”

  Lauren jumped at the sound of Emma’s voice and twisted around just as her friend hopped onto the stool beside her.

  “I’m used to it by now,” Lauren said.

  Emma laughed and reached over to rotate the bottle of beer. She regarded the label and made a face. “I don’t know how you drink that stuff. I need a cocktail.”

  As Emma opened the drink menu, Lauren glanced at the bar once more.

  The guy was gone.

  She looked around but didn’t see anyone wearing a navy shirt and a hat.

  A server approached, and Emma placed her drink order.

  “Thanks for coming out,” Emma said. “I really need to let off some steam. This week was rough.”

  “It was,” Lauren agreed. Clinic had been packed full with new patient visits, and they’d received the sad news that two of their patients had passed away. “I must have written twenty chemo orders this week.”

  “Before you came along I was the one writing them.” Emma’s eyes went wide. “I don’t want that job back, okay? Finish your rotations and come back. Don’t leave us for good.”

  “I’m trying not to.”

  “Any updates on a job opening?”

  Lauren shook her head. “Dr. Hawthorne said there’s a budget meeting in late November, and he’ll propose adding a third full-time clinical pharmacist. If they approve the position, I can apply for it.”

  Emma frowned. “Can’t they just grandfather you in?”

  “I guess not. But there aren’t that many oncology specialists running around, so hopefully I won’t have much competition.”

  “You’d better be right. Intelligence aside, I doubt we’d find another pharmacist who’ll drop bad puns all day to keep us laughing. It’s gotta be you.”

  Lauren laughed and took a drink of her beer. “Laughter is the best medicine.”

  When the server returned with Emma’s drink, Emma made a show of scoping out the room. “Any cute guys here tonight?”

  It was on the tip of Lauren’s tongue to say she’d seen one before Emma arrived. “I’m not sure.”

  Emma rotated on her seat, tapping her chin as she went. “What am I looking for? What’s your type?”

  “I don’t really have one.”

  “That’s not helpful.” Emma paused. “Actually, maybe it is. Any guy is fair game?”

  “Emma, what are you doing? I don’t want you to find me a guy.”

  “Too bad.”

  Lauren shook her head. “What about you? Has one even seen your newest additions, yet?”

  “I got them for me, not for men.” Emma shimmied her shoulders, and Lauren couldn’t stop her eyes from dropping to the ample cleavage on display.

  “So you say. But you sure were eager for me to bring my coffee shop guy to work a few weeks ago.”

  What would Emma think if she knew that guy was Andrew? The “hot patient” who all the women in the clinic now fawned over? Anyone who had a hand in his care would remember him.

  Emma waved a hand in the air and made a sound of dismissal. “I was kidding. Besides, I’m not the one who hasn’t gone on a date in two years. Gotta prioritize, here.”

  Lauren grimaced. “You make me sound like such a loser. I’m focused on my career.”

  “And now that you’re this close”—Emma held up her thumb and forefinger a centimeter apart—“to locking down a job here, it’s time to get back out there.”

  “I haven’t gotten an offer yet,” Lauren reminded her. She went back to the original point. “Besides, I’m perfectly content with my life right now. I’m doing just fine on my own. What do I need a man for?”

  “Do you really want me to answer that?” Emma said with a quirk of her brow. “There are several things I like to use a man for—”

  “I get the idea,” Lauren interjected with a laugh. She wrapped one hand around her beer bottle. “I guess I just want to meet a nice guy, for once. I seem to be a magne
t for jerks…guys who get by on charm and always get what they want. My first serious boyfriend cheated on me in college, and then in pharmacy school I dated a third-year medical student. Just when I thought things were going well he ghosted me out of nowhere. Found out later he started dating the daughter of the Chief of General Surgery, which happened to be the residency program he wanted to get into. Just once, I’d like to date a guy who’s honest, dependable, and kind. One who likes me for me, not for what he can get from me. You know?”

  “Yeah. If only we could all be so lucky,” Emma said. “Until then, I’m gonna have my fun, and use guys for what they can give to me.” She waggled her eyebrows up and down.

  Emma resumed her perusal of the room, and Lauren regarded her friend with envy. Lauren hadn’t had good luck in love, and as a result kept her guard up pretty high. Why can’t I be more like Emma? More carefree with men and the dating scene?

  The truth was, she’d always taken relationships pretty seriously, even from the start. She didn’t understand Tinder or Bumble, had found that sex wasn’t something she could treat casually, and wanted a guy who supported her career aspirations. She’d spent a lot of time on her own growing up, feeling like an outsider even within her own family. Independence was a trait learned early, and except for her father’s willingness to pay her way through pharmacy school—she wasn’t an idiot to say no and rack up student loans if she didn’t have to—she’d put in the hard work to get where she was. She wasn’t the kind of woman who wanted to rely on a man to support her.

  Or vice versa. She wanted a partnership.

  It wasn’t that she thought there wasn’t someone out there for her…she just hadn’t had the time or energy to find him.

  Some days it felt like an insurmountable task. Couldn’t fate intervene on her behalf—just this once—and drop the perfect guy into her life?

  Was that really too much to ask?

  Chapter Four

  “How’d it go?”

  “Not as bad as I thought it would be.”