Page 23 of Doctor One Night

Still on for this evening? I'm pulling up to UAB now.

I can’t help but smirk. Even though today was slower than usual, I know our meeting isn’t going to be a cake walk. Working with Frankie has been interesting, to say the least.

The tension between us is like a live wire, buzzing with every interaction. And the more time we spend together, the harder it is to ignore.

Yeah. Meet me in the lab room in 30?

I tuck the phone back into my pocket and head toward the elevator. Even though all I want to do is sit in my apartment and sip on an expensive scotch and do nothing, I’m not about to let that stop me from getting some genuine work done on this project.

The pacemaker trial is at a critical stage, and while my surgical schedule usually means late meetings, I’m not complaining. If anything, it’s an outlet outside of my normal surgeries and patients.

The lab is quiet when I get there, the usual hum of the hospital replaced by the muffled sounds of the evening shift taking over. Frankie must have made another stop before coming because I beat her here.

I set up my laptop and start pulling up the files we’ll need, trying to focus on the task at hand. Against all my efforts not to, my mind keeps wandering back to the last time I was in here with Frankie.

Our meetings have all been in the conference room. We are meeting here to look at some of her slides in person. I didn't prepare for the sense of déjà vu I’d have coming in here again. Damn, this woman should be paying me rent. She is taking up that much space in my head.

She walks in a few minutes later, looking as composed as ever. She arrives with her hair pulled back, dressed in her usual professional attire with a skirt peeking out of the bottom of her lab coat. The soft lighting catches the warmth in her eyes. I shake off these thought as she sets her things down and sits across from me.

“Long day?” she asks, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

“Not too bad,” I reply, leaning back in my chair. “Slower than usual, but it seems like I’ve been here forever. I actually had time to breathe today. Only four routine surgeries.”

“That’s rare for you,” she says, flipping through some notes. “Maybe that’s why you actually aren't scowling tonight.”

I raise an eyebrow. “I don't scowl,” I say as I scrunch my forehead.

“If you say so, Mr. Grumpy Pants.”

“Who says I'm grumpy?”

She looks up, her smile widening. “Literally everyone.”

I let out a short laugh, shaking my head. “I’m just focused. There’s a difference.”

“Is that what you call it?” she teases, but there’s a lightness in her tone that makes it hard not to smile back.

We get to work, diving into the data that’s come in from the latest tests. The pacemaker is showing promise, but there are still a few hurdles we need to clear before we can move forward. Frankie is meticulous, pointing out details I might have missed, and I have to admit, her attention to detail is impressive.

As we go over the results, we shift the conversation to the technical aspects of what we will explore in the trial: how the pacemaker interacts with different heart conditions, and how we will monitor and chart the potential side effects.

It’s fascinating work, the kind that reminds me why I love exploring and learning about how the heart works, and why, sometimes, it doesn't. But the more we talk, the more I realize how much I enjoy these moments with her—how much I look forward to our meetings, even when they’re late and I’m exhausted.

“Okay, so if we adjust the algorithm to account for variable heart rates, we might be able to reduce the risk of arrhythmias post-implantation,” Frankie says, tapping her pen against the table thoughtfully. “This was a big issue with our animal trials.”

I nod, leaning in to look at the data on her screen. “That makes sense. But we’ll need to test it thoroughly before we make any changes to the protocol. The last thing we need is for this to backfire in human trials.”

“Agreed,” she says, meeting my gaze. There’s a moment of silence, the air between us thick with unspoken tension. It’s like we’re both waiting for something, though I’m not sure what.

“So, you think you can handle more evening meetings like this?” I ask, breaking the silence with a smirk. “It would be hard to cover all of this during day, although I can carve out little bits of time here and there.”

She arches an eyebrow. “I’m not the one with the packed surgery schedule. Can you handle it?”

“Touché,” I reply, chuckling. “But seriously, this project is important. I’m in it for the long haul.”

Her expression softens, and for a second, I see something in her eyes that I can’t quite place. “I know you are. And I appreciate it. This trial… it means a lot to me. This has been my main focus for over two years. You know, that night you came by…”

The mention of that night, the elephant in the room, is like stepping on a land mine.

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