Page 44 of Doctor Charmer

We’re sitting at the dining room table in his condo, a smorgasbord of lunch options on the table in front of me. “And I should never leave you alone in the kitchen again.” I wave at the four-inch-high stack of grilled chicken breasts, three different types of pasta, a salad, and roasted fingerling potatoes. “Is that a roasted Cornish hen?”

He dismisses me with a wave. “Yeah, you were gone for three hours. I was bored.” I roll my eyes and kick the bag of McDonald’s that I brought back after stopping at the hospital and spending the morning with the kids. Chelsea is scheduled to be released tomorrow. “You’re changing the subject.”

“And you’re not listening to my brilliance. Sarah is a woman. She thinks he’s in love with her. We show her he’s not.” The plan came to me at the drive-thru window when I spotted a couplein the car in front of me kissing every time they pulled their car forward two feet.

“He’s not. Everyone knows this but Sarah.” Reggie places a glass of water next to the empty wineglass I refused to indulge in at this hour. “I should have come to the hospital with you.”

“Yes, you should have.” I steal a sip of water. “Oh wait, you can’t be because you’re suspended.” I poke at another wound he carries. “Reggie, it’s okay to let others help out. Angie is holding down the ER. I can help you figure a way out of this mess. It’s okay to let go of the wheel and trust those around you.”

He shakes his head. “I left the ER to Dr. Harriman for three months. Look where it’s gotten me.”

I feel his frustration. I was forced to stand on the sidelines and watch other athletes represent our country at the Olympics, all the while lamenting how different things might be if I were the one on the court.

“I look much better in a dress than Dr. Harriman ever will.”

Reggie slices the Cornish hen, spearing a large slice and placing it on my plate next to the avocado salad. “I made gravy from scratch. It’s on the stove cooling.”

I tap the back of his hand to prevent him from racing away. “You know you have a serious problem.”

His gaze meets mine. “I’ll figure out this suspension.”

He misses my point. “I meant this.” I wave my hand at the Thanksgiving feast he prepared for just the two of us. “You have no idea how to be idle, do you?”

“I’m not used to having free time on my hands.” He plops onto the chair next to me. “I’m an ER doctor without an ER.”

“And you just so happened to have a fridge stuffed with fresh produce and poultry.”

His brow pinches in confusion. “We have thirty-minute online grocery delivery.”

He says the line as if it’s as common as running water. His words are a reminder that he isn’t just a doctor, but an accomplished, successful, wealthy doctor. I can see my mother’s smile all the way from Virginia.

“I’ll circle back to that comment later.” I take a quick bite of the bird. It’s perfectly seasoned, crispy on the outside, soft and tender on the inside. A hum of satisfaction escapes my lips. It’s better than any restaurant I’ve ever eaten at. And now I see my dad, standing next to Mom, a slow, steady nod of approval. “Back to the plan.”

“No,” he cuts me off.

“Why not?”

“You think I’m going to let you near enough for that leech to put his hands on you?”

“Nothing is going to happen.” I give him the assurance he needs to hear. “I’ll flirt with him, get him worked up to the point that he makes a move. We just have to figure out a way for Sarah to bear witness.”

Reggie crosses his arms across his chest, the plate in front of him empty. “And what if he corners you? What if he forces…” He struggles, not wanting to complete the image. I’m not sure if it’s for my benefit or his.

I lay a hand on his forearm to calm him. “Nothing’s going to happen. I’ve known men like Harriman most of my life. From what you’ve told me about Sarah, Dr. Harriman likes them young and pretty and impressed with him and his position. I think I can pull that off.”

“You’re not doing this alone. I need to be there.” I know he thinks his words are coming off as protective and he is looking out for me, but my history plays tricks with my head.

“Do you not trust me?” I slide my hand off his arm. “Are you concerned… Coach Flirt-a-lot?” It’s not a coherent question, if it’s a question at all. But I know he’ll understand.

“Not for a second.” His response is quick and steady. “It’s him I don’t trust. Not you. I don’t want you to put yourself in that position. Not without backup.”

“You trust Angie.” It’s not a question but a statement.

“With my life.” This response is just as quick and steady.

“She’ll have my back.”

His head shakes, letting me know he disagrees. “She’s running an ER. She won’t have time to look over your shoulder. I’m coming.”

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