Page 30 of Forgot to Tell You Something

And that’s the million-dollar question. The one crimp in my groove is Owen’s continued evasiveness about his occupation. “I’m not sure. He’s very vague about work, aside from joking that he’s a bank robber.”

“If he is, he can steal my money anytime.” She grins at my heated glare. “Stop it. I know Owen is your man. He made his desires real obvious that first night.”

I prop my chin on my hand, tapping my pen against the desk. “Should I worry that I don’t know what he does for a living?”

“Do you think it’s illegal?” When I shrug, she continues. “Some people are weird about their work. They don’t like to talk about upcoming deals in case they fall through. Maybe he’s superstitious.”

“Or maybe he’s a doctor,” I blurt, finally giving voice to the nagging feeling in my gut.

“Why do you think that?”

I shake my head, trying to clear it. “He’s evasive about his job.”

Stefani’s brows draw together. “Why would he be evasive about being a doctor? That’s bragging rights central.”

“I don’t date doctors, remember?”

“Does he know that?”

I nod. “I told him on the first date.”

“Did it faze him?”

I shake my head, recalling the memory. “Faze isn’t the right word, although he seemed shocked that a nurse wouldn’t consider dating a doctor. It was more like he wanted to know the reason behind my decision. That, and he has caduceus tattoo on his ribs.”

Stefani shoots me an exasperated glare. “You have a unicorn on your thigh, but I don’t see a horn sticking out of your head.”

I snicker, picturing myself with a horn and hooves. “This is also true.”

“Don’t invent problems, Lu. For once, believe something good has fallen into your lap. Lord knows you deserve it.”

She’s not lying. I’ve been through the wringer with men, most notably with the doctor I dated. I know it isn’t healthy to dwell on the past, but even the thought of that piece of crap makes me seethe with anger.

My friend senses the tension, opting to change topics. “Did you hear they filled Dr. Levinson’s spot?”

“Dr. Watts sent me an email this morning. She didn’t mention his name, but she claims he is brilliant, and we are beyond lucky to have snagged him.” I shrug, shoving the remains of my lunch into the fridge. “I just hope he’s nice to the staff. Levinson was a tool.”

“He was great in the cath lab, though. A total turd of a man, but expert-level interventionist.”

I can’t disagree. “But for once, can’t we have a brilliant doctor who is also an agreeable person?”

“And hot as hell.”

I smirk. “Can’t forget that.”

“You can. You have a hot as hell man already. It’s my turn.”

“I thought you liked Dan,” I murmur, watching my friend’s face flush.

“I do, but he doesn’t reciprocate.”

My eyes narrow. “He thinks you’re gorgeous.”

“He also thinks I have the depth of a mud puddle since my musical tastes run more toward Taylor Swift than the Sex Pistols. Don’t give me that look, Lu. You know it’s true.”

“Is that even a competition? I can’t say I like Taylor Swift, but she’s more musically inclined than the Sex Pistols.”

“You missed the point.”

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