Hotshot Doc
Page 36
I check the weather on my computer in my office, scowling when I see the little image of snowflakes falling from clouds every hour for the rest of the day.
I curse and it must be pretty loud because Patricia pokes her head into my office. “What is it?”
“Do we not pay Bailey enough? Why can’t she get a damn car?”
“What are you talking about?”
She’s confused, for obvious reasons.
I sigh and try to get back to my paperwork so I can get out of the office at a decent time. This is slightly hilarious on my part. I pretend like I want to hurry up and finish so I can leave and enjoy my life, but this is my life. In the last few years, I’ve spent more time in this office than I have at my house. I ignore that cold hard truth and forcefully open the file on my desk.
For the next hour, I work for fleeting moments between checking the weather, looking at my phone, glancing out the window, and then chiding myself for being distracted. At this rate, I won’t finish my work until Monday.
The office clears out. Patricia scolds me for staying late on her way out, and yet here I sit, throwing my toy basketball up in the air and catching it over and over again. It’s helping me think. Also, it’s keeping my hands occupied. For some insane reason, I have the urge to pick up the phone and call Bailey. Her cell phone number is in her file, which is still housed in my desk drawer. I wrote it down on a sticky note and stuck it to the edge of my computer screen. It’s taunting me.
I want to check in and see if she got home okay.
The phone call would be short, just a few seconds really.
I reach for my phone and dial her number before I think better of it.
She answers after a few rings.
“Hello?”
Her voice sounds different.
“Bailey?”
“No. This is Josie. Bailey’s in the shower. Who’s this?”
I sit up and reposition a few papers on my desk, not sure how to proceed. I should hang up, but instead, I reply, “This is Dr. Russell.”
“NO WAY. Hold on.” Then she tilts her head away from the phone and shouts, “BAILEY HURRY UP—YOUR HOT DOCTOR IS ON THE PHONE!”
There’s rustling on her end and muffled conversation.
“I don’t believe you,” Bailey says, clearly enough for me to hear. She must be out of the shower now. “You’re not funny.”
“Oh my god. She thinks I’m playing a prank on her,” Josie says to me.
“Josie, you’re not even that good at acting,” Bailey continues. “I know no one is on the phone.”
Josie laughs. “I swear he is! Here.”
There’s more rustling and I assume Josie is handing her the phone because a moment later, Bailey speaks, and it’s much easier to hear her now. “Ha ha, very funny,” she says, sounding confident she’s caught Josie in a lie. “Hello Dr. Russell, I’m so happy you called because I was just daydreaming about you in the shower.”
I chuckle and she screams.
“There is someone on the phone!” she shouts.
“I told you!” Josie responds.
Bailey clears her throat, attempting to compose herself. When she speaks again, it’s calm and measured. “Um, hello?”
“Bailey? It’s Matt.”
“Oh hello, Dr. Russell. Please ignore everything I just said. I was just joking about the, err…daydreaming.”
I smirk and decide to go easy on her. “I was just calling to see if you got home okay in the snow.”
“Really?” She seems shocked.
“It looked like it was getting pretty bad out there,” I say, suddenly self-conscious. I look out the window and there’s not a hint of snow on the ground. It melted as quickly as it fell.
“Yup. Safe and sound,” she says before speaking inaudibly to Josie. There’s a heavy groan and then a slammed door. “Sorry, I was just kicking my little sister out of my room.”
I lean back in my chair and stare up at the ceiling. “Does she answer your phone often?”
“She doesn’t have a phone of her own, and she must have been browsing Instagram when you called. She’s obsessed with the Hadid sisters.”
“Who?”
“The models? Oh whatever. I won’t keep you. We’re back home. Thanks for checking in on me.”
“Wait!” I don’t want her to hang up. “How did Josie’s appointment go?”
She’s slow to respond, like she’s not quite sure she wants to. “Fine. Though she likes to complain about my cooking, she’s growing normally and all that. Did you honestly just call to talk about this stuff or is there something else?”
Oh, you want the truth? The truth is that I’m alone in my office on a Friday night and maybe that used to be enough to satisfy me, but now suddenly, it’s not. I want to know what pajamas you’re going to put on now that you’re out of the shower. I want to know what you’ll make for dinner, if you’ll watch a movie after or if you’ll hang more candy canes on that stupid tree. I want to know what it feels like to kiss you again, but you won’t let me so I’m calling you under the guise of checking in and maybe I’m more transparent than I think because I don’t say any of this and I’m pretty sure you still hear it because your tone softens when you speak again.
“Is everything okay, Matt?”
I jerk forward and shake my head. “It’s fine. I’ll see you at work on Monday.”
I slam the phone down onto the receiver.
Chapter 20
BAILEY
After Matt hangs up on me, Josie and I dissect his call from every possible angle.
Maybe he just really wanted to make sure we got home okay.
Maybe he had something important to tell me but he chickened out.
Maybe it was just a friendly call, nothing more.
Friendly. Friends. Friend. I suddenly hate the word in all its forms.
I spend the rest of the weekend thinking of him when I shouldn’t be. I consider how nice it was for him to offer up his car and to let me leave early on Friday. I think of how sexy he sounded on the phone. His voice was rich and deep, unforgettable. I make homemade Boston cream pie, savoring it for as long as possible only because it reminds me of him. It’s stupid, I know. When Josie eats the last of it on Sunday night, I nearly weep.
I think I’m losing it.
I wonder if repressing sexual attraction can turn you into a crazy person.
Honestly, if I’d known he would respect my wishes in regards to that contract, I would have thought about it a little more before I forced him to sign it. I was overwhelmed. A lot had happened in a short amount of time and maybe I was a little scared. I wanted a chance to assess the situation with a clear head, but my head is anything but clear. If anything, it’s foggier than ever, filled with thoughts of Matt and our kiss and annoyance over the fact that he’s actually abiding by the terms of that phony contract.
It’s Monday and we’re in the middle of operating and I’m trying very hard to keep my focus on the procedure, but it’s not easy. Today’s case is more routine than most. I could assist him with my eyes closed, which means my mind is wandering in ways it shouldn’t be. I want to know how Matt spent his weekend. He’s a handsome guy. His scrubs do nothing to dull the rugged, masculine strength pluming off him like smoke. In this setting, he’s a god. I wonder what women think of him out in the normal world. If he went to a bar, there’s no way he’d go home alone. The thought makes my stomach turn. I wonder if he ever visits Smooth Tony’s. It’s right across the street. I bet he goes there to unwind after a long day. After all, that’s where he was going to meet Cooper all those weeks ago.
If he sat alone at the bar, women would flock to him. He’d have to beat them off with a stick.
I feel queasy and suddenly I need answers.
“Did you have a good weekend, Dr. Russell?” I ask, adrenaline coursing through my veins.
He eyes flick up to mine. The surgical glasses do nothing to temper his piercing blue gaze. “It was fine. Productive.”
Productive?! What does that mean? Did he sleep with more than one woman? I feel faint.
“Oh yeah?” I persist. “Did you get a lot of work done?”
I curse and it must be pretty loud because Patricia pokes her head into my office. “What is it?”
“Do we not pay Bailey enough? Why can’t she get a damn car?”
“What are you talking about?”
She’s confused, for obvious reasons.
I sigh and try to get back to my paperwork so I can get out of the office at a decent time. This is slightly hilarious on my part. I pretend like I want to hurry up and finish so I can leave and enjoy my life, but this is my life. In the last few years, I’ve spent more time in this office than I have at my house. I ignore that cold hard truth and forcefully open the file on my desk.
For the next hour, I work for fleeting moments between checking the weather, looking at my phone, glancing out the window, and then chiding myself for being distracted. At this rate, I won’t finish my work until Monday.
The office clears out. Patricia scolds me for staying late on her way out, and yet here I sit, throwing my toy basketball up in the air and catching it over and over again. It’s helping me think. Also, it’s keeping my hands occupied. For some insane reason, I have the urge to pick up the phone and call Bailey. Her cell phone number is in her file, which is still housed in my desk drawer. I wrote it down on a sticky note and stuck it to the edge of my computer screen. It’s taunting me.
I want to check in and see if she got home okay.
The phone call would be short, just a few seconds really.
I reach for my phone and dial her number before I think better of it.
She answers after a few rings.
“Hello?”
Her voice sounds different.
“Bailey?”
“No. This is Josie. Bailey’s in the shower. Who’s this?”
I sit up and reposition a few papers on my desk, not sure how to proceed. I should hang up, but instead, I reply, “This is Dr. Russell.”
“NO WAY. Hold on.” Then she tilts her head away from the phone and shouts, “BAILEY HURRY UP—YOUR HOT DOCTOR IS ON THE PHONE!”
There’s rustling on her end and muffled conversation.
“I don’t believe you,” Bailey says, clearly enough for me to hear. She must be out of the shower now. “You’re not funny.”
“Oh my god. She thinks I’m playing a prank on her,” Josie says to me.
“Josie, you’re not even that good at acting,” Bailey continues. “I know no one is on the phone.”
Josie laughs. “I swear he is! Here.”
There’s more rustling and I assume Josie is handing her the phone because a moment later, Bailey speaks, and it’s much easier to hear her now. “Ha ha, very funny,” she says, sounding confident she’s caught Josie in a lie. “Hello Dr. Russell, I’m so happy you called because I was just daydreaming about you in the shower.”
I chuckle and she screams.
“There is someone on the phone!” she shouts.
“I told you!” Josie responds.
Bailey clears her throat, attempting to compose herself. When she speaks again, it’s calm and measured. “Um, hello?”
“Bailey? It’s Matt.”
“Oh hello, Dr. Russell. Please ignore everything I just said. I was just joking about the, err…daydreaming.”
I smirk and decide to go easy on her. “I was just calling to see if you got home okay in the snow.”
“Really?” She seems shocked.
“It looked like it was getting pretty bad out there,” I say, suddenly self-conscious. I look out the window and there’s not a hint of snow on the ground. It melted as quickly as it fell.
“Yup. Safe and sound,” she says before speaking inaudibly to Josie. There’s a heavy groan and then a slammed door. “Sorry, I was just kicking my little sister out of my room.”
I lean back in my chair and stare up at the ceiling. “Does she answer your phone often?”
“She doesn’t have a phone of her own, and she must have been browsing Instagram when you called. She’s obsessed with the Hadid sisters.”
“Who?”
“The models? Oh whatever. I won’t keep you. We’re back home. Thanks for checking in on me.”
“Wait!” I don’t want her to hang up. “How did Josie’s appointment go?”
She’s slow to respond, like she’s not quite sure she wants to. “Fine. Though she likes to complain about my cooking, she’s growing normally and all that. Did you honestly just call to talk about this stuff or is there something else?”
Oh, you want the truth? The truth is that I’m alone in my office on a Friday night and maybe that used to be enough to satisfy me, but now suddenly, it’s not. I want to know what pajamas you’re going to put on now that you’re out of the shower. I want to know what you’ll make for dinner, if you’ll watch a movie after or if you’ll hang more candy canes on that stupid tree. I want to know what it feels like to kiss you again, but you won’t let me so I’m calling you under the guise of checking in and maybe I’m more transparent than I think because I don’t say any of this and I’m pretty sure you still hear it because your tone softens when you speak again.
“Is everything okay, Matt?”
I jerk forward and shake my head. “It’s fine. I’ll see you at work on Monday.”
I slam the phone down onto the receiver.
Chapter 20
BAILEY
After Matt hangs up on me, Josie and I dissect his call from every possible angle.
Maybe he just really wanted to make sure we got home okay.
Maybe he had something important to tell me but he chickened out.
Maybe it was just a friendly call, nothing more.
Friendly. Friends. Friend. I suddenly hate the word in all its forms.
I spend the rest of the weekend thinking of him when I shouldn’t be. I consider how nice it was for him to offer up his car and to let me leave early on Friday. I think of how sexy he sounded on the phone. His voice was rich and deep, unforgettable. I make homemade Boston cream pie, savoring it for as long as possible only because it reminds me of him. It’s stupid, I know. When Josie eats the last of it on Sunday night, I nearly weep.
I think I’m losing it.
I wonder if repressing sexual attraction can turn you into a crazy person.
Honestly, if I’d known he would respect my wishes in regards to that contract, I would have thought about it a little more before I forced him to sign it. I was overwhelmed. A lot had happened in a short amount of time and maybe I was a little scared. I wanted a chance to assess the situation with a clear head, but my head is anything but clear. If anything, it’s foggier than ever, filled with thoughts of Matt and our kiss and annoyance over the fact that he’s actually abiding by the terms of that phony contract.
It’s Monday and we’re in the middle of operating and I’m trying very hard to keep my focus on the procedure, but it’s not easy. Today’s case is more routine than most. I could assist him with my eyes closed, which means my mind is wandering in ways it shouldn’t be. I want to know how Matt spent his weekend. He’s a handsome guy. His scrubs do nothing to dull the rugged, masculine strength pluming off him like smoke. In this setting, he’s a god. I wonder what women think of him out in the normal world. If he went to a bar, there’s no way he’d go home alone. The thought makes my stomach turn. I wonder if he ever visits Smooth Tony’s. It’s right across the street. I bet he goes there to unwind after a long day. After all, that’s where he was going to meet Cooper all those weeks ago.
If he sat alone at the bar, women would flock to him. He’d have to beat them off with a stick.
I feel queasy and suddenly I need answers.
“Did you have a good weekend, Dr. Russell?” I ask, adrenaline coursing through my veins.
He eyes flick up to mine. The surgical glasses do nothing to temper his piercing blue gaze. “It was fine. Productive.”
Productive?! What does that mean? Did he sleep with more than one woman? I feel faint.
“Oh yeah?” I persist. “Did you get a lot of work done?”
