Page 7 of The Maine Event (Romancing the Workplace #2)

Pushing open the glass doors, I’m met with the unmistakable scent of antiseptic and the low murmur of voices from a TV playing a nature documentary in the waiting area. A bored-looking receptionist glances up from her computer as I approach.

“Hi,” I start, trying to keep my voice steady. “I’m looking for a patient who was brought in earlier. An elderly woman named Marjorie. She collapsed at Julie’s Diner.”

The receptionist’s face softens a little, and she nods. “Are you family?”

“Uh… no. Just a friend, I guess. I just wanted to make sure she’s okay.”

She hesitates, clearly weighing the rules against whatever empathy she’s managed to hold on to during the night shift. Eventually, she offers a small smile.

“Hang on. I’ll check for you.”

As she types something into the computer, I fidget with the strap of my bag, my mind still racing. What am I even doing here? Am I overstepping? But I couldn’t just go to bed without knowing.

After a few moments, the receptionist glances up. “She’s stable and awake. Room 204. Visiting hours are technically over, but… if you’re quick, I don’t think anyone will mind.”

“Thank you,” I say, relief flooding through me.

I follow the signs down a corridor lined with faded diabetes awareness posters and finally find Room 204. I’m just about to knock when I hear familiar voices inside.

Pushing the door open cautiously, I peek in—and freeze.

Dan is sitting in one of the plastic chairs by the bed, talking softly to Marjorie, who’s propped up on the pillows looking surprisingly chipper. Chloe is perched on the edge of the bed, holding Marjorie’s hand and nodding along with whatever story she’s telling.

Dan looks up when I enter, his eyebrows rising in surprise. “Rachel?”

“Oh,” I mumble, feeling suddenly awkward. “I… I just wanted to check on her. Make sure she’s okay.”

Marjorie’s face lights up when she sees me. “Oh, hello.”

I step inside fully, offering a hesitant smile. “I just… I was at the diner tonight. Couldn’t stop thinking about you. Wanted to make sure you were alright.”

Marjorie waves a wrinkled hand, dismissing my concern. “I’m fine, sweetheart. Just a little spell, that’s all. Doctor says I’ll be out of here by tomorrow morning. You young folks made quite a fuss over me.”

Chloe grins up at me from her spot on the bed. “We brought her some flowers,” she says proudly, pointing to a small, slightly wilted bouquet still in a 7-Eleven bag. “Dad said they’re good for cheering people up.”

“They’re lovely,” I say, glancing at Dan. “Good call.”

He catches my disparaging look. “Choices were limited at this time of night.”

Marjorie’s eyes flit between us, her smile turning sly. “You two make a lovely couple,” she says.

Dan’s head jerks up, his mouth opening to protest, but I beat him to it. “Oh, no, we’re not?—”

He cuts in, clearing his throat. “Just friends.”

Marjorie gives him a look that says she doesn’t buy it for a second. “Well, you ought to be. She’s a keeper, that one.”

I feel my cheeks heating, and I glance at Dan, whose expression has shifted to something almost unreadable. He doesn’t respond, just looks away, his jaw tightening.

The nurse pops her head in, giving us a stern look. “I’m sorry, but visiting hours are over. You’ll have to say goodnight.”

Marjorie waves her off, and sees the worry flit across my face at the thought of leaving her alone. “Oh, don’t you worry about me, dear. I’ll be just fine. You’ve done more than enough already.”

I give her hand a gentle squeeze. “Take care of yourself, Marjorie.”

She pats my hand warmly. “You too, sweetheart. Don’t let this one get away,” she adds, giving Dan a pointed look.

He rolls his eyes, muttering something, but there’s a faint smile there too.

We file out of the room, and as we walk down the hall, Chloe pipes up, “See if she’s hungry, Dad?”

Dan glances at me. “Did you get anything to eat earlier?” he asks, almost cautiously.

The truth is, I’m famished. But I hesitate, my mind spinning with the implications. Dinner at a stranger’s house? It feels too intimate, too personal.

“I don’t know. It’s been a long day. I’ve kind of lost my appetite and I should probably just head back to the motel…”

“Of course, I understand. You must be exhausted. I just thought… Well, never mind. Another time maybe.”

I chew on my bottom lip, torn. It would be so easy to say no, to retreat to the safety of my solitude. But something in Dan’s eyes, in the earnest set of his shoulders, makes me pause.

When was the last time I let myself slow down? When was the last time I just did something for the fun of it?

I think of the endless string of late nights at the office, the bare shelves in my refrigerator, the takeout containers piling up in my trash can.

Maybe it’s time to try something different. Maybe it’s time to not think about clients and work and pitches, after the day I’ve had…

I meet Dan’s gaze with a tentative smile. “You know what? Sure. I’ve barely eaten all day.”

The grin that breaks across his face is blinding, and I feel an answering warmth blooming in my chest. “Fantastic. It will make me feel like I’ve made amends for barging into your room. And, just to manage expectations, I make a mean grilled cheese.”

I laugh, shaking my head in mock disbelief. “Grilled cheese? You sure know how to woo a girl.”

He winks. “Don’t mock it until you’ve tried it.