Page 8 of My December Darling

I send the text without expecting a reply. Regardless of what they have planned, it’s clear that I’m not invited to be part of it.

Dragging my feet, I walk over to the floor-to-ceiling window overlooking Lake Aurora and sip my sad, watery excuse for black coffee. This town is similar to Lake Wisteria, where I currently rent a small apartment with Aiden, although the town square lacks the same distinct coastal charm since it was remodeled back in the nineties. While the houses were preserved, the main business area was renovated, replacing history with glass structures that lack warmth or character.

Thankfully, their expansion project included the very hospital Aiden and I work at, so while I can’t complain, I don’t mind criticizing them for wiping out over a century of history.

A frustrated huff has me turning around to find a woman dressed in Christmas-themed scrubs jabbing her finger against the latté button three times. Gingerbread men are scatteredacross the cotton scrub top while the bottoms are a bright but plain forest green. I swear I don’t mean to ogle, but her perfect ass shakes from side to side as she leans forward to read the tiny letters on the machine.

My nails dig into the Styrofoam cup as I chastise myself for checking out another employee like this.

Yet you can’t seem to take your eyes off her.

She stabs at the same broken latté button and curses in Spanish, seemingly unaware of my presence.

“You can only get black coffee with this one,” I offer out of guilt.

Her ponytail whips around her as she turns to face me with wide brown eyes.

“Catalina,” I say with a raspy voice.

Her nose scrunches at the sound of her full name. “What are you doing here, Lucas?”

“Luke,” I emphasize with a smile before motioning toward my scrubs. “Isn’t it obvious?”

“I thought Aiden was supposed to be working tonight.”

“He was, but something came up. I think he mentioned an issue with the wedding cake?”

Her lips form an O.

“What areyoudoing here?” My gaze flickers over her scrubs. The cheery holiday pattern fabric isn’t one I’d associate with her, but then again, my preference for basic dark-colored scrubs isn’t reflective of my personality either. The only holiday cheer I’m spreading lately is a request for every patient to get the flu shot, so who am I to talk?

Catalina fiddles with the plastic clip of her ID badge, which is shaped and painted to resemble a snowman. “I’m filling in for someone who went on leave.”

“For how long?”

“A month.”

My surprise must be written across my face because she asks, “What?”

“I’m surprised is all.”

“Why?”

“I thought you were popping in for the dress fitting and heading back to wherever you were needed next.” Her hanging out here for a whole month is practically unheard of.

According to Aiden, Catalina was a travel nurse long before they started dating, which was one of the reasons it took him a while to determine he liked her more as a friend than a girlfriend.

She rocks back on her sneakers. “Between all the costs of the holidays and the wedding, it made more sense to stay put and get a job here.”

I nod. “Got it. And how’s it going living with your parents again?”

“About as pleasant as appendicitis.”

“Pre- or post-op?”

“Is postmortem an option?”

I choke on a laugh. “Sounds wonderful.”

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