Page 41 of Doctor One Night

He chuckles, the sound low and warm, and it’s strange how it makes the butterflies in my stomach flutter even more. “And here I thought you were the one who was going to charm him into funding our project.”

“Oh, I’ll charm him all right,” I reply, my tone playful. “But you’re the one with the surgeon’s hands. He’ll want to hear from you, too.”

Oh, those hands. Why can’t I stop thinking about them running over me?

Hunter smirks, setting his glass down on the bar. “Theo said Mr. Rich Guy would meet us here. He’s probably schmoozing somewhere with the other bigwigs. Ready to go find him?”

“Absolutely,” I say, but there’s a part of me that’s not quite ready for the evening to get underway. For now, I’m content to stand here with Hunter, sharing this light-hearted banter, pretending like we’re two people unburdened by the weight of our careers.

As Hunter and I make our way through the glittering crowd, my mind drifts to last week's meeting with my father. It was our second time seeing each other since his unexpected return to my life, and I'm surprised to find myself feeling okay about it.

We met at Shain Park downtown, just as the evening was settling in. The fading sunlight painted everything in soft, warm hues, lending a surreal quality to our encounter. As we strolled along the winding paths, the tension that had defined our first meeting seemed to dissipate slightly.

This time, it felt less like confronting a ghost from my past and more like... getting to know a stranger who happens to share my DNA. We talked about simple things—his work at the car dealership, my research at the hospital. Nothing too deep or painful.

I'm not ready to let him fully into my life yet. A couple of meetings don't erase the years of absence and hurt. But I can't deny that these encounters have been good for me. Good for both of us. It's like slowly draining an old wound I didn't even realize was still festering.

As we walked, I found myself noticing little things—the way he gestures when he talks, how his eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles. It's strange to see echoes of myself in someone I've spent so long trying to forget.

I shake myself out of my reverie as Hunter and I approach a group of well-dressed individuals. This isn't the time to be lost in thoughts about my complicated family situation. Right now, we have a job to do.

10:27 pm

The music in the background fades as Mr. Remington, the potential sponsor, smiles broadly, extending his hand to both Hunter and me.

“You’ve convinced me,” he says, his voice full of warmth and authority. “I’ll have my people draw up the paperwork first thing Monday, but consider your project funded. It’s not every day I come across something so innovative, with people as passionate as the two of you behind it.”

I'm blown away for a moment and find I can't speak. I know I'm smiling like a dummy. My cheeks hurt from the broadness of it. Years in the making, and Mr. Remington has just committed to bringing this to trial. Finally.

The weight of the world lifts off my shoulders. Hunter and I exchange a look—one of triumph, relief, and maybe even a hint of disbelief. I’ve been working so hard for this—we've been working so hard. Now, in a moment that is almost surreal, we’ve actually done it.

“Thank you, Mr. Remington,” Hunter says, shaking his hand firmly. “We won’t let you down. Now, the real fun begins.”

“I’m sure you won’t,” Mr. Remington replies, then with a final nod, he turns to Theo Bench, who’s been standing nearby, grinning like a proud father. The two of them start talking logistics, and Hunter and I step back slightly, taking a moment to breathe.

“That just happened,” I whisper, mostly to myself, but in his ear. The reality of it is still sinking in.

“It did,” Hunter replies, a slight grin on his face. “We’ve got it, Frankie. Fuck, yeah. This is happening.”

I nod, as a rush of excitement mixed with the overwhelming relief that comes after a long-fought battle envelopes me. Just as I’m about to bask in the victory, something tugs at the back of my mind, a nagging thought about three crucial changes I need to make before we meet on Monday.

“Wait,” I say, turning to Hunter. “I need to go back to the lab. The proposal details—there’s some data we need to confirm and a file I need to send. We should have it all ready to go first thing on Monday. I don't want anything to hold it up.”

Hunter raises an eyebrow, clearly not thrilled about the idea of cutting the celebration short. “Can’t it wait until tomorrow?”

I shake my head, the pressure already creeping back in. “No, it’s better if I do it tonight. Besides, my work here is done. I want to get it done while everything’s fresh in my mind. I’d rather get it done.” The truth is, I won't be able to enjoy myself anymore, anyway. I'm too excited about this. I want to go take care of it.

He sighs, glancing around the room as if looking for a way out, too. “Well, if it’s gotta be done, you stay here and enjoy yourself, I'll go do it,” he says, giving me a playful smirk. “You’re not sneaking out early and leaving me to deal with all this.”

I raise an eyebrow, crossing my arms. “Oh, no. I’m not letting you off that easy. You don’t get to skip out on the rest of this night by volunteering to take care of things. If anyone’s leaving, it’s me.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Nice try. I’m doing it.”

I narrow my eyes at him, trying to keep a straight face. “We both know you’re just looking for an excuse to get out of here, and I am not about to let you have it.”

“Sounds like we’re at an impasse, then,” he says, grinning. “How about we both go? That way, neither of us has to stick around, and we can get it done twice as fast.”

I pretend to consider it, tapping my chin. “Fine. We both go. Let’s get out of here before Theo or Remington pulls us into another round of schmoozing.”

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