Page 47 of Cinematic Destinies
“Saturday night, dinner and theater? Sounds like a date to me.”
“Well, you’d be wrong.”
“Is he picking you up?”
“He’s meeting me at the hospital. He has the day off and I have to work, so . . .”
“So, he’s picking you up. How chivalrous,” Georgia said with a mischievous giggle.
Betty rolled her eyes. “I don’t have time for this. Are you going to help me or not?”
“Yes, chill. I’m just teasing you. Show me the outfits you’re considering.”
Betty obliged, pulling out one hanger after another, to which Georgia emphatically said, “No,” each time.
“You can’t veto everything,” Betty moaned.
“God, sis, when was the last time you went shopping? You’re twenty-eight, not forty-eight. Ditch the little sweaterensembles pronto, like the second we hang up. Donate them to charity or something.”
Betty sighed. “Maybe I should just wear jeans. That’s my go-to when I’m not in scrubs.”
“It’s Saturday night in New York City. Put on something that makes you feel pretty. Come on, you must have a cute dress tucked away.”
Betty pulled out the knee-length navy-blue wrap dress. “What about this?”
“Ooh, that’s nice. Chic, understated, and a little flirty.”
“Georgia, I told you it’s not a date and . . .”
“I’m just saying you’ll look and feel great.”
“I don’t know what shoes to wear,” Betty complained.
“Show me what you’ve got.”
Betty scanned the phone over her shoe rack until Georgia said, “Those. The nude ballet flats. That’s a perfect outfit. And sis, do your hair and put on a little makeup. A ponytail in a scrunchie doesn’t exactly scream Saturday night in New York.”
Betty rolled her eyes. “Thanks for your help. Well, sort of.”
“Anytime. Before you go, tell me one thing.” Betty raised her eyebrows and Georgia continued, “If he’s just a friend, why so stressed about your outfit?” After a moment of silence, Georgia said, “Exactly.”
“You are a pain in the ass. Gotta go. Thanks for your help.”
“Have fun on your date,” Georgia said, just before Betty ended the call.
Betty shook her head and muttered, “That’s what you get for calling her.” She packed her dress and shoes and was about to run out the door, but she hesitated and ran back to grab her hairbrush and makeup bag.
AFTER FINISHING ROUNDS, BETTY WAS HEADINGto the lounge to change when her attending physician caught up with her. “Forrester, there’s a trauma coming in. I know your shift just ended, but I want you in on this.”
“But . . .”
“A woman pregnant with twins was in a car crash. The EMTs reported that she went into labor. I need all hands on deck, plus it would be a good learning experience. If you can’t stay, tell me now and I’ll page O’Brian.”
Betty took a breath. “Of course I’ll stay.”
“Meet me in labor and delivery.”
Betty nodded. She hurried down the hallway to the residents’ lounge. When she opened the door, she saw Khalil waiting for her, looking handsome in black slacks and a button-down shirt that accentuated his muscular physique. He beamed at the sight of her. “Hey, I got here a little early. Take your time getting ready. Or go in scrubs. That works too,” he said with a broad smile.
