Page 33 of Dr. Weston

I could invite my brother, but they have three kids now. Who would he leave home? Deep down, I already know the answer. I’d be going alone. Sipping my lemonade, I ponder whether I could do it. Could I fly to Jamaica by myself and spend five days at a resort surrounded by happy couples and families enjoying the life I want?

The question has me kicking myself again, second-guessing whether I did the right thing, turning Broadie Weston down for a date. Honestly, his question caught me so off guard I wasn’t sure what to do. The man is gorgeous. He’s a well-respected surgeon who has a heart of gold. Or so it seems. But this job is my lifeline. It’s honestly the only thing sustaining me. It forces me to get up and face the day when I’d rather sulk. My job challenges me each day in a brand-new way. I feel accomplished when I can meet a patient’s needs.

I can’t help replaying Dr. Weston’s words, just as I have several times since that fateful day in the ER.

She’s a dedicated, extremely knowledgeable pharmacist, and St. Luke’s is lucky to have her. I hope your behavior won’t cause her to look elsewhere.

I practically swooned when he said,If you ever speak to Poppy that way again, I’ll have you fired!

That was quintessential book-boyfriend material right there.

Momentarily, I let my mind picture Broadie Weston wearing nothing but a pair of swim trunks and that darned dimple.

“Poppy? Did you hear me?”

Frank’s voice startles me back into the here and now. “Oh, sorry. What were you saying?”

“Can you take this soap suds enema to the second floor? Abbie’s at lunch, and the nurses on the Ortho floor say they’re out.”

Well, if that won’t bring me back to reality, nothing will.

CHAPTERTHIRTEEN

BROADIE

“You made it,” Gianni greets me as I approach our usual seating area in DPG.

“Good to be here, G. Can’t believe it’s been a month already. But I’ve been looking forward to this all week.”

“Come, sit. I’ll have one of the girls bring you a scotch. I’m afraid I may be tied up for a bit.”

I raise a brow at him, wondering if he means literally or figuratively. It could go either way in a club like this.

“Sadly, it’s all business, I’m afraid.”

“Broadie. How are you, man?” Derek ‘Bedrock’ Hart stands and gives me a pat on the back. “It’s amazing we work in the same hospital, yet I never see you.”

“Agreed. But I guess you’re in the cath lab while I’m in the OR.”

A striking blonde wearing a slinky gold sequined gown bends down to offer me a two-finger pour of what I’m assuming is top-shelf scotch.

“Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome.” I notice a strong southern drawl. There was a time I’d find this sweet, but looking at her makes me long for another blonde. One who quickly shut me down.

“Where are Devon and Becket?”

“Over there, by the dance floor.” I follow Max’s finger to find the two sitting side by side, each with a girl on their knee.

“They didn’t waste any time,” I say. Looking up, I find Gianni has already walked away. I hope everything is okay. Pulling out my cell phone, I text Stu to let him know something’s up with Gianni tonight, just to keep him in the loop. I’m not naïve enough to think some shady shit doesn’t go down in this place. At least Stu can be one step ahead if something is afoot.

10:20 p.m.

Stewart

On it, boss.

Another beautiful server dips low, carrying a tray of appetizers. Reaching over, I grab a napkin and what looks like a skewer of meatballs.

---