by Amy Ruttan
He grinned. “So since you’re on my service, I would like you to do some time in the hospital.”
“You make that sound like a prison sentence.” She smiled and relaxed a bit. “I agreed. Just tell me when you want me to be there.”
Honestly, she was okay with this option and she was glad that he wasn’t doing something foolish, like removing her from George’s case. She was quite fine with working shifts at the hospital and assisting on some pro bono cases—because of her job she didn’t get to do a lot of surgery. Her practice, with the team, was small and limited to sports injuries. It would be nice to get back into the operating room and do some of the surgeries she didn’t often get to do.
Surgeries that had made her want to become an orthopedic surgeon.
The surgeries she excelled at when she was working with Dr. Chin.
There were times she questioned why she had left, but her focus had always been to work with a professional team. That was her goal.
Her grandmother had loved football and they watched it every week. Any time there was a game on, her grandmother liked to take her to tailgate parties.
So working with a professional football team had always been her dream and when she lost the baby it seemed like the time to take the leap and make it happen.
And she didn’t want to admit the real reason why she’d left San Francisco. She hadn’t wanted to lose Calum. She had been afraid if she stayed things would become worse.
That he’d loathe her, like her parents loathed each other.
When they got together they had both had goals.
Goals that were both completely different, even if they were studying the same medical discipline.
Just like her parents. Her mother blamed her father for holding her back and vice versa.
She had never wanted that for her and Calum.
The thought of him loathing her was too much to even contemplate. So she had left.
Sure, he was cool with her, but they could work together. They were both professionals, both at the top of their fields. They hadn’t lost that.
“When did you want me to report to you?” she asked tightly.
“Well, I won’t be there, but show up for midnight. We get severe ortho traumas from local hospitals. Sometimes we get a bunch of cases, other nights we don’t, but we’re on call for them.”
“Midnight is fine.”
It had been a while since she did a midnight shift, but she’d weather it.
“I’m glad you’re on board,” Calum said. “So should we go have something to eat and talk business?”
Pearl smiled. “I’d like that.”
And she would. That’s all she wanted to talk about.
Business.
Not the baby. That was still too raw.
* * *
Pearl had to put away George’s file and make sure her office was locked and that her staff knew where she was going. She liked the idea of grabbing something to eat with Calum, because she wanted to be able to work with him again.
She didn’t want there to be any tension between the two of them while they handled George’s case. Some of the best times of her life had been when they worked together.
He was smart, talented and so sure of himself, but not in an arrogant way.
It would be good being colleagues again. She’d missed that these last five years.
And truth be told, she missed him. Even though it was for the best and she had given him back his freedom, she had missed him.
She’d always missed him. Always wondered what he’d been doing, so she was looking forward to having this lunch with him and talking about cases, like they used to do.
Being with him had been a bright spot in her life. Having a late lunch and discussing a case would be like the good old days, when they had been friends and worked together.
Those were the days she missed.
And even though she didn’t want to admit it, she was lonely.
Loneliness is for the weak, Pearl. Remember that.
Her father’s voice droned on in her head. And she felt bad for feeling that emotion. That keen pang of loneliness.
Calum was waiting in the lobby and her heart skipped a beat as she saw that he hadn’t left, that it wasn’t some sort of ruse, that maybe they could go back to being friends.
And that thought thrilled her. It made her happy.
It also scared her. She took a deep, calming breath before she approached him. She was so used to seeing him in just jeans, a T-shirt and beat-up old sneakers when he wasn’t in his scrubs. The last five years and becoming chief of orthopedic surgery had changed him. He was still wearing jeans, but they weren’t the same worn ones he always wore. These were pressed and new. They were well taken care of.
He was wearing a T-shirt, but a high-end one that complemented the relaxed sports jacket and there were no sneakers. Instead he wore nice dress shoes. He looked put-together and professional.
Calum took her breath away and she couldn’t remember the last time that any man made her feel this way. Calum had been her first and, come to think of it, Calum had been her last.
She’d gone on other dates, but it was never the same.
No one else had made her swoon. Her pulse began to race and she was suddenly so nervous again. She’d forgotten. Forgotten how he made her feel. How he got through all her defenses.
And she was annoyed at herself for still reacting this way.
Get a hold of yourself.
She had to remind herself that she was just here to work. Nothing more. She wasn’t here to rehash their relationship.
Calum understood her and she understood him. It was over between them. It had been over for five years. She was here to work.
He smiled at her and there were a few more lines at the corners of his eyes, but he was wearing his late thirties quite well.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
“I just had to make sure my assistant knew where I was and that I’m not working with any player today and they’re all with my team of physiotherapists. I shouldn’t be paged, but I might be.”
Calum nodded. “Well, the place I want to go to isn’t far. In fact, you should remember the little Italian place near Buena Vista Park.”
“It’s still there?” Pearl asked, in amazement.
“Yes, Il Polpo Arrabbiato, and the wood-fired pizza is still the same. It’s a gorgeous day and I thought that was a nice quiet spot to go to strategize. And it’s not a far walk.”
“I would like that.”
In fact, she liked that quite a bit. It had been one of their favorite haunts. It was cheap and cheerful.
“Here’s to finishing residency!” She raised her glass of wine.
Calum smiled and clinked his glass with her. “Thank God!”
“And here’s to the tackiest place in San Francisco,” she teased.
“That, too.” He took a sip of his wine, then set down the glass and took her hand.
A rush, a thrill at his touch, made her blush. He made her feel safe. She hadn’t felt like this in a long time. She didn’t pull her hand away. She moved closer and rested her head on his shoulder.
Savoring it.
Savoring the feeling of being held and cared for.
Pearl sighed. She’d forgotten about Il Polpo Arrabbiato.
They spent many a happy time there and going back seemed like they were going home.
Only she wasn’t home. She didn’t have a home or a family.
All she had was herself.
CHAPTER THREE
IT WAS AN ugly restaurant. Even after five years, it still was an ugly restaurant. Il Polpo Arrabbiato, also known as The Angry Octopus, was an Italian restaurant that was tucked in an old Victorian home that overlooked Buena Vista Park. It was painted a bright orange color and loo
ked a bit out of place and not as stylish as the famous Painted Ladies or the Seven Sisters that were usually featured in San Francisco postcards.
It stood out like a sore thumb, but also seemed to fit in for the street.
Locals were used to the garish home. She hadn’t been here in five years, but she’d forgotten how blindingly orange it was.
Even though it was an eyesore it was a wonderful restaurant and a great place to get a piece of wood-fired pizza in the Haight-Ashbury area. She couldn’t even really remember how they discovered Il Polpo Arrabbiato.
And then it came back to her, like a sweet memory she hadn’t been expecting.
“You’ll like this place,” Calum had insisted.
“I don’t know. It’s orange!”
“You said you wanted pizza,” he stated firmly. “This is the best in San Francisco.”
“How? I’ve lived here my whole life and I’ve never heard of or seen this place!”
“You grew up near the Presidio. This is my stomping ground.”
She cocked an eyebrow. “You grew up in the Mission District. How is Haight your stomping ground?”
“Home sucked. I wandered the city a lot.”
She nodded her understanding. Her home sucked, too. “It’s an orange house, though, with an octopus on it. How does this serve the best pizza?”
“Trust me.”
And she had.
She had a hard time trusting anyone. Her parents’ constant broken promises to her left her wary of any kind of trust in anyone, but in that moment she trusted Calum for the first time.
Walking toward the restaurant, Pearl felt like she was stepping back in time.
The last time she’d been here was when they were celebrating the end of their medical boards, the last step to becoming surgeons. It was when they knew they were going to be surgeons. They were done school. It had been her, Calum and their friends Dianne and Jerome.
It had been a great night.
Too many carbs, lots of wine and laughter.
Pearl couldn’t remember the last time she let loose like that.
After that night, things got a little crazy. She was pregnant, they were planning to get married and they were trying to plan their careers. They never went back, because there was no time.
It was a bit strange to be back here now. It was a bit surreal. She stopped just before crossing the street and tried to calm all the racing thoughts in her head. All the emotions she seemed to be losing control of. She took a deep breath, trying to slow her racing heart.
“You okay?” Calum asked. He stopped and looked back at her.
“It’s been a while,” she whispered, hoping that her voice didn’t shake and that he didn’t sense her emotion. Her cheeks flushed in embarrassment, for letting her control slip in front of him.
Her mother had always told her to never let anyone see your weak side. Surgeons needed to be confident and if she wasn’t going to be a cardiothoracic surgeon like her parents wanted, then she had to exude confidence and maintain control. She hated that old tape of her mother that played in her head.
Although, Pearl didn’t necessarily think it was weakness, but it had been so ingrained in her that she couldn’t shake that humiliation that her mother always made her feel when she shed a tear.
“I know. When was the last time we were here?” he asked.
“After our boards,” she laughed softly. “We drank a lot of wine that night.”
Calum’s eyes twinkled. “We did. It was the cheap stuff, too. I had such a hangover the next day.”
“I remember,” she replied dryly. “You know you can overcome a lot when you hear your significant other be sick, and so loudly.”
Calum groaned. “Right. Well, I seem to recall not long after you suffered from morning sickness and it was rough.”
She winced. It stung to think about it. She’d thought she had a cold, but it was pregnancy. At first she didn’t want any help, but Calum had been there, holding back her hair, bringing her cold cloths and water.
He had always been there. She was the one who left.
“I remember. We never did get back here after that night,” she said, trying to change the subject back.
“No. I suppose we didn’t,” he said wistfully.
Her pulse quickened. She took a step back to center herself.
She shook her head, trying to shake away the remnants of those old times. They were in the past.
“You sure you’re okay?” he asked again.
“I’m fine. I think I’m a little shocked that it hasn’t changed at all.”
“Well, they have a few more octopi decorations inside,” Calum stated, grinning.
“So you come here often?” she asked, a bit hurt because she thought that this was their place and a really awful side to her couldn’t help but wonder who else had been here with him.
Does it matter? You let him go.
Only, it did matter, even if she didn’t want to admit it.
“Not that often, but sometimes.” There was a hint of sadness in his voice, but only a hint and then it was gone. She understood. She was feeling the same way, but maybe, just maybe, they could have an enjoyable, productive lunch.
She wanted to work with him. Just like the good old days.
Even if things had changed.
“Come on.”
She nodded and followed him. They crossed the street and walked inside, where she was blinded by the new octopi decorations. It wasn’t just a few. It was like a kraken had come in, had a bunch of babies and left.
They were everywhere. It was tacky. It was trippy and it seemed completely in place for the Haight-Ashbury neighborhood.
“Goodness, it’s like release the kraken or what in here,” she muttered under breath.
He chuckled. “Is a kraken even an octopus?”
“I have no idea. It’s a mythical creature with tentacles, I think.” She smiled to herself. Even though this place was tacky and ugly, she’d forgotten how much she loved this quirky, offbeat place in San Francisco.
They found their old corner booth, but it had changed. It was outfitted with vinyl that resembled tentacles. Purple tentacles, but it was just something stitched into the vinyl and thankfully not real tentacles.
Calum chuckled and as they both slid in on the opposite sides of the booth.
“What?” she asked.
“You look horrified. Don’t they have tacky places like this in New York?”
Pearl laughed. “I was trying to hide it.”
“Hide what?” he asked.
“My horror,” she said quietly.
“You’re not doing a good job,” Calum whispered.
She leaned over the table, which was painted to look like an eyeball. A big angry krakenesque eyeball staring up at her. It was creepy, but fun. “This place is tackier than I remember.”
“It’s why they’re so popular with tourists. Where else can you have pizza that’s themed with angry octopi?”
“I honestly don’t know and I’m not sure that I want to find out,” she chuckled.
Calum’s eyes were twinkling. “Fair enough.”
She opened the menu, glad to see a lot of familiar items still graced the pages, and she just hoped that the food hadn’t changed that much, either. She was hoping that the pizza didn’t have calamari on it or something.
“I know what you’re thinking,” he said, closing the menu.
“Do you?” she asked.
“You’re wondering if the pizza comes shaped like the decor? No, it doesn’t. They haven’t gone that far. Yet. Don’t put it past them, though—they add more octopi stuff all the time.”
Pearl laughed. “Perhaps. Actually, I was more concerned that the pizza would come with bits and pieces of the decor.”
“Oh, the
re’s one like that. It’s the seafood surprise, but the food is still the same.”
Pearl wrinkled her nose. “Okay, noted. So, I don’t get it.”
“What?” Calum asked.
Pearl set down her menu and folded her hands across the menu. “You said that this restaurant hadn’t changed.”
“Well, there are bits that changed, but the pizza is still good. Even the seafood surprise.”
“You’ve had that?”
Calum shrugged. “One night I was feeling a bit adventurous.”
“And?” she asked, trying not to laugh.
“It was not a great experience.”
Now, she couldn’t help but laugh. It was so easy with Calum. He always knew how to get through her defenses. How to make her happy.
She’d forgotten and that scared her. She couldn’t get hurt again. She couldn’t let herself get carried away with Calum. It was better for both of them.
She knew she’d hurt him when she left, but it was for the best.
It was for the best.
Was it?
Right now, in this moment, she couldn’t remember why she had thought it was best to leave. There were times over the last five years she had thought of coming back, but she had been afraid.
Her parents always made her feel bad about her mistakes and she was afraid of facing this mistake again.
She turned back to her menu, trying to rein in her emotions, her pain. Her heartache.
“You went quiet there,” Calum remarked.
“Did I?” she asked, hoping that her voice didn’t crack.
“You did.”
“It’s nothing.”
“Pearl, it’s clearly something.”
She didn’t want him digging through her walls. She didn’t want to lose control of her emotions again.
“Maybe it is, but you told me you didn’t want to discuss it.”
“What’s that?”
“The baby. Me leaving.”
“No. I haven’t forgotten and you’re right. I don’t want to talk about it,” he sighed. “I can’t.”
