Page 2 of Between Our Hearts

She and that blue cross had developed a tormented relationship.

The glimmer of excitement that should have accompanied a positive pregnancy test had been immediately decimated by fear. Because of this, she’d decided not to tell her husband, Clark, right away. Sadie didn’t want to watch the hopefulness in his breathtaking blue eyes turn over to despair—the same emotion that seemed perpetually etched into her organs.

In a moment, however, she’d have to share the news with Parker. Sadie had exactly enough time to run her hand over her lavender blouse in an attempt to settle herself before her friend walked to the table.

Truthfully, Parker only walked in the hospital; when she was out at night like this, shesauntered. Parker’s favorite thing was to discard the dark long-sleeved T-shirt she wore under her surgical scrubs and showcase the extensive artwork on her body. Parker loved the shock factor. When her long, dark brown hair was tied into an efficient knot at the back of her neck, no one knew that most of the skin under her cuffs and beneath her scrub pants was inked with intricate images.

Tonight, her tattoo artist’s hard work was evident as Parker wore a barely-there sleeveless mini dress with a squared neckline. Complex images decorated her arms, legs, and even the tops of her toes peeking through strappy heels. She slid onto her high-top seat as their already besotted server followed close behind.

“Hey,” he breathed.

“Sazerac, thanks.”

The twenty-something hovered, eyes glued to Parker, and cleared his throat. “And for you, ma’am?”

Sadie tried to hide her cringe at the word ma’am. “Soda with extra lime.”

He blinked and turned in halting degrees before seeming to regain his focus once Parker wasn’t in front of him, burning out his retinas.

Parker waited until he was ten feet away before reaching over the wooden tabletop to grip her hand. Softer brown eyes caught Sadie’s and held them silently. She didn’t need to speak. Sadie not ordering her standard Vesper was all Parker needed to hear to know that Sadie was going into proverbial battle again.

Over the last eleven months, this had been the third time that Sadie had ordered soda with extra lime. Each time after, within weeks, she was ordering her Vesper with hollowed resignation.

When the bridge of her nose congested and liquid sheened her eyes, Parker released her grip. Sadie knew her friend didn’t want to be the cause of her spilling water all over the table.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Sadie shook her head.

“Do you want to hear about the pretzel boy from my last call night? Riding a motorcycle drunk with no helmet, the idiot.” Parker rolled her eyes.

“Yes. Tell me,” Sadie said eagerly.

Most people thought her penchant for the gruesome was distasteful, but Parker’s smile only lifted because sheunderstood. There was nothing more beautiful than taking a nearly dead, broken person and putting them back together.

Five years ago, when Sadie was called for a consult in the ER, Parker was the lead trauma surgeon on the case. Within seconds of excitedly talking over each other regarding the best way to fix the smashed woman’s body, a kinship had been formed. They’d also bonded over the fact that they were the only female surgeons in their respective services.

When they’d gone to medical school, statisticians had boasted that fifty percent of graduates were women, but when it broke down into specialties, most of those new female doctors went into pediatrics, obstetrics and gynecology, or dermatology. Not that there was anything wrong with any physician’s choice of practice, but it was just more than eighty percent of orthopedic surgeons were men—similar numbers for trauma surgeons. But like Sadie, Parker didn’t shy away from a fight, and they’d both tenaciously clawed their ways to respective successes at Durham Medical Center. A little more than a year ago, Sadie had broken two barriers, becoming not only the first female orthopedic surgery director but the youngest, at thirty-eight.

Parker barely lifted her eyes to the salivating server when he dropped off her drink but stopped to say thanks amid the long list of broken bones meticulously detailed for Sadie’s benefit.

Already Sadie was fantasizing about the myriad ways she’d have fixed each break as Parker continued with the quick, abbreviated medical jargon-laden speech that would’ve made an intern’s head spin. To the casual eavesdropper, they might as well have been conversing in an alien language.

“Excuse me,” a handsome man in his mid-forties wearing an immaculate three-piece suit interrupted.

Parker gazed up with irritation before her look morphed into something slightly softer. “Hello.”

“I can see that you ladies are obviously busy, but I wanted to give you this.” He slid a slick business card on the table-top in front of Parker. “My cell’s on the back.”

Parker’s eyes darted to it briefly before returning to his. “I’ll take it under consideration.”

The man’s confident smile rose. “I look forward to hearing from you.”

Parker unabashedly watched his toned backside as he walked away.

“You’re going to climb that, right?” Sadie asked.

“Sadie Love Carmichael. Saying such things about other men. You’re a married woman,” Parker teased.

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