Page 47 of Doctor One Night

On my way!

I drag myself to the bathroom to change out of my robe and into real clothes. The house is too quiet, too empty after Saturday night. I try not to think about how I woke up alone yesterday, how Hunter was already gone. I can’t let myself dwell on it, not with Carly on her way over.

By the time I’ve set the table and gotten everything ready, I hear the knock on the door. Carly, even nursing her aches and bruises always brings her full energy. I open the door, and there she is, grinning at me with two cups of coffee in hand and a bag of fresh bagels balanced on top.

“Morning!” she chirps, pushing past me into the house. “If I know you, you haven't had a bite to eat yet today.” She hands me the coffee, smiling, pleased with herself that she is taking care of me.

“Thanks,” I mumble, taking a sip and letting the warmth spread through me. It’s a small comfort, but it helps.

“Let’s take this outside,” Carly suggests, nodding toward the screened-in porch. “It’s too nice a morning to stay cooped up in the house.” I grab the napkins, butter knife and cream cheese.

I nod, following her out to the porch. The air is fresh. With the ceiling fan, there is the perfect amount of coolness that makes it perfect for sitting outside. We settle into the chairs, and I watch as Carly arranges the bagels on a paper plate in the bag on the table, her movements quick and efficient.

“So,” she says, leaning back in her chair and giving me a pointed look. “Let's hear it. I want all the deets.”

“First, how are you feeling? I think you made the right decision staying in, by the way. You didn't miss a thing.”

Carly sighs dramatically. “Oh, for sure. I hated missing the gala, but there’s no way I could’ve handled it. My head was pounding just from watching TV. Staying in was definitely the right call. And I’m finally starting to feel like a human again. Just in time to go back to work this week. Yippee!”

Her sarcasm is infectious and lets me know she is getting back to her old self.

“Good,” I say, genuinely relieved. “I’m glad you’re doing better.”

“Me too,” Carly says, and then her eyes narrow playfully. “But enough about me. I need you to tell me everything about last night. And I mean everything. Best dressed, worst dressed, and all the juicy details in between.”

I take a deep breath, trying to steel myself for the barrage of questions I know is coming. Carly doesn’t miss a thing, and there’s no way I’m going to get out of this without telling her at least some of what happened. But for now, I can keep it light, focusing on the gala itself and not… everything else.

“Well,” I begin, trying to sound casual, “the gala was beautiful. They really went all out with the decorations, and the food was amazing. The band was so-so, but full transparency, I wasn’t out of the dance floor.”

Carly waves her hand, dismissing my attempt to stall. “Please, I don’t care about the food or the music. Who had the best dress?”

I can’t help but smile at her enthusiasm. “Okay, okay. Let’s see…”

Carly’s eyes are trained on me, sharp and focused, as I try to keep the conversation light. I’m giving her the rundown of the best and worst dressed at the gala, but I can tell she’s not buying it. She knows me too well, and her suspicion is growing with every passing second.

“And then there was Mrs. Pembroke,” I say, forcing a smile as I recount the over-the-top feathered dress she wore. “I’m pretty sure she was going for ‘glamorous peacock,’ but it came off more like ‘escaped from a Mardi Gras float.’”

Carly laughs, but her eyes don’t leave mine. “Okay, that’s a good one,” she says, leaning back in her chair. “But enough with the distractions. You’re holding something back, Frankie. And don’t even try to deny it. How did your ‘fuck me’ green dress perform?”

A little too well, I should say. But I’m still hoping to avoid that…

I take a long sip of my latte, trying to buy myself a little more time, slurping dramatically. But Carly’s not letting up. She’s got that look in her eye—the one that says she’s not going to stop until she gets the truth out of me.

“What are you talking about?” I ask, attempting to play dumb, but the words come out too quickly, too defensive.

She raises an eyebrow. “Oh, come on. I know you better than that. You’re avoiding the biggest news of the night. You guys secured a sponsor, didn’t you? That’s huge!”

Oh, phew! She was pushing about the news about the sponsor!

“Yes, yes! You’re right. How could I forget the biggest news of the night?”

“Hmmm. You’ve barely mentioned it. So it must be something surrounding that, or, maybe a certain hot doctor, hmmm,” she says dramatically, narrowing her eyes and tapping her jaw.

I shrug, trying to keep my tone casual and not taking the bait. “Yeah, we did. It was a big win, but I just—” I pause, struggling to find the right words. “There’s a lot on my mind, Carly.”

She narrows her eyes at me, clearly not satisfied with my answer. “Uh-huh. And does this ‘lot on your mind’ have anything to do with aforementioned hot doctor…?”

I bite my lip, as a crawling sensation rises under my skin, prickling with intensity. I should’ve known she’d go there. Carly can read me like a book, and there’s no use trying to hide it any longer.

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