Page 23 of Crossing the Line
"It's weird being colleagues with your mom," Alice continued. "Does that make the whole thing more or less nerve-wracking?"
"Both," Harper said honestly. "She's so proud, but that also means the stakes feel higher."
"Dr. Langston seems incredible though," Piper said. "Very respected and accomplished. You have good genetics for this career."
Harper nodded and made appropriate responses, but she felt the familiar distance opening up between herself and normal conversation. Alice and Piper were being kind and inclusive, exactly the kind of colleagues she'd hoped to find. But every topic led back to territory she couldn't navigate honestly.
She found herself scanning the café for Lavender, hoping for an opportunity to catch her attention without seeming rude toher companions. The older woman moved between tables with practiced ease, checking on customers with genuine warmth.
"I should probably head home soon," Harper said eventually. "Early rounds tomorrow."
"Us too," Alice said, though she made no move to gather her things. "But it's nice to decompress a little first. Tomorrow we get to do it all over again."
Harper smiled and nodded, playing the role of the friendly intern while her mind worked on how to orchestrate a private moment with Lavender. She needed advice that went far beyond normal first-day jitters, and time was running out.
Harper's opportunity came when Alice excused herself to the restroom and Piper got caught up in a phone call from her roommate about apartment drama. Lavender was wiping down a recently vacated table nearby, and Harper stood with the casual confidence of someone stretching her legs.
"The wine recommendations were perfect," Harper said quietly as Lavender approached their table to refresh the water glasses.
"I'm glad you're enjoying them." Lavender's eyes were kind but observant, the way Harper imagined a good therapist might look. "Though you seem like you might need something stronger than wine tonight."
The gentle accuracy of the observation nearly undid Harper's composure. "Is it that obvious?"
"Only to someone who's seen that particular look before." Lavender glanced toward Piper, still absorbed in her phone conversation, then back to Harper. "Would you like to talk somewhere more private? I have an office in the back."
Harper nodded, perhaps too quickly. "That would be helpful."
"Give me five minutes to get things settled out here."
Harper returned to the table as Alice reappeared from the restroom, sliding back into her chair with renewed energy.
"I think I'm finally feeling human again," Alice announced. "Nothing like good wine and better company to recover from surgical trauma."
"Agreed," Harper said, though her attention was partly on Lavender moving efficiently between tables, clearly preparing to step away. "Actually, I think I might head out soon. Still feeling pretty drained."
"Of course," Piper said, ending her call. "We should probably all get some sleep before round two tomorrow."
They settled their tab and gathered their things with the easy camaraderie Harper wished she could fully participate in. Outside on the cobblestone street, Alice and Piper headed toward the harbor district where most of the intern housing was clustered.
"See you bright and early," Alice called over her shoulder. "Try not to dream about surgical procedures."
Harper waved goodbye and waited until they'd turned the corner before slipping back inside Lavender's. The café had quieted considerably, only a few tables still occupied by couples deep in conversation or individuals reading alone.
Lavender appeared at her elbow almost immediately. "Right this way."
The back office was nothing like Harper had expected. Instead of the clinical efficiency she associated with business spaces, Lavender had created something that felt more like a comfortable living room. Soft lighting from table lamps, a small couch with throw pillows, bookshelves lined with everything from business manuals to poetry collections. It felt like a space designed for difficult conversations.
"Sit wherever you're comfortable," Lavender said, settling into an armchair across from the couch. "And tell me what's really going on."
Harper sank into the couch cushions and felt some of the tension leave her shoulders. The privacy felt like permission to drop the careful performance she'd been maintaining all day.
"I made a mistake," she said simply. "A big one. And I don't know how to fix it."
"What kind of mistake?"
The question was asked without judgment, with the patient curiosity of someone who'd probably heard every variety of human error. Harper found herself speaking before her usual caution could interfere.
"I lied to someone about who I was, what I did, even my name. And then...things happened between us. Personal things. And now I have to work with her professionally, and she knows I lied about everything."
