Page 6

I rolled my eyes. “We’ll all have to persevere, I guess. Hey, I’ll be your date.”

Michael lowered his mask to glare at me with dark brown eyes. “Smooth talker is not my type.”

“Ouch,” I grinned. I nodded to a mother bringing her toddler in for what looked like a cold if the globs of snot on the kid’s face were any indication, and then I swerved into my office. A small stack of files waited in the middle of it, and that was to be expected. Usually, when one of my patients went to the hospital or saw another provider, I received a report about the incident. I also had patients who needed to update their medical files which needed to be reviewed at the end of the day.

I ignored them for now, knowing I would have time after my house calls to get the boring paperwork portion of my job done. It made for long hours, but as the disaster with Kiss-Met had perfectly highlighted, I didn’t have anyone to go home to, anyway.

Depressingly.

That brought to mind startled, blue-gray eyes behind tortoiseshell glasses. I scowled at the memory.Dr. Coldwell. Doctor she may be, but expert in her field, she is not.I couldn’t believe she had actuallyrunfrom me. What kind of professional did that?For that matter, what kind of professional did such a shitty job in the first place? Heat simmered in my blood, and I threw my bag onto my desk more forcefully than I’d meant to.

I had half a mind to march back to that building and hunt her down again if only to vent my frustrations. At first, I’d wanted to know what software they were using and why they claimed to have someone with a doctorate making matches, butoh no.Theydidhave a doctor. She was just incompetent.

And pretty. Really pretty. Absurdly, devastatingly cute, in fact. If I hadn’t been so livid with her, I probably would have been brought up short by those bouncy, shoulder-length curls and blinking, animated eyes. Fortunately, my rage had carried me through, and I hadn’t let the fact that she had a bright ring of yellow around her pupils stop me from threatening her.

Stop thinking about her eyes.

Bringing myself back to the present, I threw a few paper records into the side pocket of my medical bag and then snatched it back up to take it to the supply room. I had two elderly patients who needed lidocaine injections in arthritic joints, one disabled patient who was due for a bi-yearly checkup, and a few hospice patients for my rounds this afternoon. Fortunately, that didn’t usually require a multitude of supplies, and that was what made my at-home initiative so doable, really. There were so many patients who needed at-home care, and all it took was a provider who gave a damn.

I headed down the hallway, passing exam rooms as I went, and scanned the supply list I’d printed out along with mypatients. As I passed by the rounded desk at the nurses’ station, Harper gasped from where she sat in front of one of the computers. “Cal! I just got an email.”

I paused mid-step. “Okay?”

“From Kiss-Met.” Her eyebrows bounced suggestively above her monitor screen. “They’re changing the proctor for the speed dating session tonight.”

I hated speed dating. Or… I hated the idea. I’d never actually been to one, but they sounded atrocious. Wasn’t that basically what we did in college? “Hi, my name is Cal. I like birdwatching and photography. Yes, unironically. Sure, I’ll get the check.” My entire undergrad had been one blur of speedy dates that either ended in a one-night stand or with one party more interested than the other and a resulting awkward text later. I’d gotten to the point where I couldn’t remember how many partners I’d been with and how many dates I’d been on, but I was definitely more of an expert at dating than abysmal Dr. Possibly Blind in Both Eyes for Missing Obvious Facts Coldwell.

Medical school had brought a couple of long-term girlfriends into the mix, but we hadallbeen doctors. We’d all been too busy to give the time and attention to the other person they deserved, and in the end, my interest in the practice of dating had fizzled out before I’d completed my residency.

I leaned on the desk and peered at her monitor. “So?”

“So,” Harper replied with a flare of her fake lashes. “It’s thedoctor. She’s going to be there organizing this entire fucking event. How does that make sense?”

My eyelids cinched together. “Really. They listed Dr. Coldwell as the proctor for the event?”

“Yes.” Harper clicked the link, and then she let her fingers hover over the black keyboard. “I can’t decide if I want to go out of morbid curiosity or if this is a terrible idea all around.”

A devious smile crept up to my eyes. “RSVP for me. I’m going to pay Dr. Coldwell a visit.”

Chapter three

Ruth

Ruth

The ice in my frappe had melted by the time I worked up thecourage to speak with Janice. It was probably just as bad of an idea to speak with Janice about resigning as it had been to drink a sugary frappe on an empty stomach before lunch, but here we were. I’d made both choices, and there was no going back now.

My stomach gurgled unhappily as I approached Janice’s office down the hall from mine. Although our company operated on the second floor of a corporate building, Janice had turned her personal space into a strange oasis that defied time or style. It was, quite simply,Janice. She had placed knickknacks and travel souvenirs from around the world on every available surface, and textiles in bright hues and busy patterns hung from the walls in the form of shawls, rugs, and tapestries. Soft lightinghaloed her long, dark hair as she turned my way from where she stood in front of her standing desk.

Even though it was like entering a gentle counselor’s office, I couldn’t help the dread that tugged at my heart. I gave her a weak wave. “Hey.”

“Dr. Coldwell.” Janice removed her bright blue reading glasses and balanced them on her head like a headband. “How can I help you? Have you been outside today? The breeze is marvelous. I rather expect it to bring something fortuitous in its wake, don’t you?”

Janice was so nice butsoweird sometimes. “Eh,” I laughed nervously. “Yeah, totally. Hey, can I talk to you?”

“Always,” Janice smiled, spreading her arm out to invite me over to the pair of padded damask chairs in the corner. Janice had a very “I eat sugarless granola” kind of vibe to her appearance, with sun-tanned wrinkles devoid of makeup and a thin build she swathed in flowing floral fabrics. Her long, gray-streaked hair hung straight down her back, and the bangles on her arm tinkled as she let her arm fall. She came to join me, and we both sat in the chairs.

I eyed a particularly creepy-looking bronze monkey statue over her shoulder before forcing my nervous gaze to settle on my boss. “I think I need to resign,” I said without preamble.