Hotshot Doc(68)

“Not yet.”

There’s a break in conversation, the transition between the reason she called and the reason we’re both still lingering on the phone.

“Y’know, today was the last surgery we have before the holiday break,” she offers, and just like that, she’s saying, I don’t want to hang up just yet. Talk to me. “Ten days with no surgeries—how will you occupy yourself?”

I hum. “I’ll still be up at the hospital most of the time.”

She laughs. “Seriously? You need a break more than anyone. I sort of assumed you’d be taking a beach vacation or something.”

I smile ruefully. “I’m not really the beach vacation kind of guy. I hate sand.”

She finds that incredibly funny. “Actually, that doesn’t surprise me in the least. Now that you mention it, I can’t really imagine you taking any sort of vacation—ever.”

“I have,” I protest. “Just not in the last decade.”

“Well, you’ll at least make it to the Christmas party tomorrow night, won’t you?”

“I hadn’t thought about it.”

I don’t usually go. Forced small talk with my colleagues and their spouses isn’t really my thing.

“Well, you should. I have a present for you,” she says, her voice taking on a slightly seductive edge, though it could just be wishful thinking on my part.

“Can’t you just bring it to the hospital?”

“Maybe I’m trying to bribe you into showing up to the party,” she quips.

Suddenly, I’ve had enough of this dancing around one another, this will-we, won’t-we bullshit game Bailey insists we play.

“What does it matter if I’m there or not?” I push, desperate for honesty.

“It won’t be the same without you.”

I tug my hand through my hair and resist a groan. It feels like she’s being a tease, pushing me away at the same time she’s reeling me in, but Bailey isn’t like that. She’s genuinely being nice, inviting me to the party because she wants me there. Simple as that.

“I’ll think about it,” I promise, swallowing my anger. “Are you bringing a date?”

“No,” she answers quickly. “Wait, are you?”

I laugh and decide on a whim that I’m tired of pretending. She asked the question, she’s going to get the truth. “No, I’m not bringing a date. The only woman I want to ask had me sign a Word doc instructing me to stay away from her.”

I know I should keep pretending I don’t want her, that arm’s length is my preferred proximity, but I can’t. Every day I’m forced to work alongside her and every day she digs a little more under my skin, carving into me so deep I couldn’t get rid of her if I tried.

“Are you referring to our legally binding contract?” she teases.

I don’t laugh. In fact, I nearly growl. “I’m done, Bailey. I’m not abiding by that stupid list of demands anymore. Do you hear that? It’s the sound of me tearing that ‘contract’ in two.”

She stays silent, no doubt contemplating the weight of my words.

I smirk as I continue, “I’ll come to that party tomorrow night. In fact, I’m looking forward to it now. Don’t forget my gift.”





Chapter 25





BAILEY



It’s snowing outside. Big, fat flakes drop from the sky and accumulate on the ground, turning the parking lot into a winter wonderland. It’s fitting considering the interior of the restaurant NEMC rented out has been transformed to match. The party planners spared no expense. There are little Christmas vignettes in every corner of the room, fake deer and Christmas trees and those big, wrapped presents with nothing inside of them. There’s enough food and drink to fill us all ten times over. The heads of the hospital might have protested about spending money on June’s surgery, but they apparently have no qualms about dishing out big bucks for an event like this.

I shake away the thought and try to get into a more festive mood. There are only a few more days until Christmas! I have paid time off for the next ten days! SANTA IS COMING!

It’s no use though. There’s no room for cheer when I’m on high alert, scanning the room every few minutes on the off chance Matt arrived while I wasn’t looking. The event is even more crowded than Dr. Lopez’s retirement party. Every surgeon in the entire hospital is here with his or her family. Kids run around, high on sugar and the fact that they don’t have school in the morning. I’m standing in a group with Megan and Erika and their dates. I don’t have a date. Well, I have Josie. I glance over and find her exactly where I left her: sitting at a table by herself, reading a book and double-fisting bacon-wrapped shrimp. I watch as a cute boy her age—Dr. Richard’s son, if I’m not mistaken—walks over to try to engage her in conversation and she waves him away, not bothering to look up from her book. For my sake, I’m glad she’s currently choosing Harry Potter over boys. I’m not quite ready to play the role of angry, shotgun-toting father.

“No date tonight, Bailey?” Erika asks.

How dare she call me out in front of the whole group?!

For all she knows, I’m actually a loveless loser and not just pining after my angry, hot boss.