Page 6 of Gamble
“Thanks, doc. I just hope you can do your job without another surgery.”
“I do too, Elijah. I do too.”
CHAPTER THREE
REAGAN
“Okay, let’s close her up. It looks like I might make it to my anniversary dinner on time after all.”
Reagan had the suture materials ready, placing them into Dr. Jennings’s gloved palm when he was ready. She had performed a half dozen other surgeries with the popular orthopedic surgeon since her start at the mammoth hospital in Los Angeles, and he was one of her favorites.
Why did so many other surgeons have to treat the surgical nurses like shit?
“Happy Anniversary, Doctor. How many years have you been married?” she asked, continuing to assist as needed.
“Twenty-nine lovely years. With the same woman. I deserve an award.”
She couldn’t see the handsome older man’s face thanks to their surgical masks, but she heard the humor in his voice. Reagan suspected Mrs. Jennings was a very happy wife indeed. She got one of the good ones.
Unlike me. I have the worst taste in men.
“Did you get her something nice for a gift?” Josh, the anesthesiologist asked.
The surgeon chuckled as he finished up the sutures on the car-accident victim he’d just operated on.
“I looked up what the traditional gift was for a 29th anniversary. My wife wasn’t impressed when I offered to buy her a new string trimmer since this is our ‘tool’ anniversary.”
Everyone in the sterile room cracked up at his joke. But later, as Reagan was standing at the wash tub cleaning up, a pang of longing replaced the humor of the off-handed comment.
In her experience, men like Dr. Jennings were rare. She should know. She’d been through more than her share of duds.
Even as she thought it, she berated herself. She’d taken the enormous step of moving down from Seattle to Los Angeles to be closer to Tristan, hoping it might improve their long-distance relationship. Maybe the six months since her move hadn’t had the desired effect—yet— but it was still too early to give up on him.
He was perfect… at least on paper. Her best friend, however, reminded her often that life was not lived on paper.
By the time Reagan’s shift was ending, she was starving. Her tummy growled just as she made it to the emergency room to see if her roommate might be ready to head home.
“Hey, Meena. I got off on time for a change. You ready to head out?”
The dark-haired beauty she’d met in college looked up from the stack of patient charts.
“You’re so lucky. I’ve got at least another hour here, but you go ahead. Asher will give me a ride.”
Dr. Asher Patel, Emergency Room doctor extraordinaire and another prime example of one of the good guys.
Reagan pushed down the pang of jealousy. There was no way she’d wish anything but the best for her friend and sorority sister. She couldn’t wait until Meena and Asher’s big wedding in just a few months. Surely, she could get her own act together bythen since that would be when she’d be losing her roommate. Rent wasn’t affordable in L.A. with only one income—not on a nurse’s salary anyway.
“It’s early. You should make Tristan take you out for a nice dinner. Who cares if it’s only a Tuesday.”
If only she could make Tristan do anything.
“I wish, but he’s traveling for work again. I think he’s in San Francisco and Monterey this week.”
Meena didn’t even try to hide her sour expression. “Listen, don’t get me wrong. I’m thrilled that you moved to L.A., but I thought it was so you could spend more time with him, but hell, he’s never here.”
“You don’t need to tell me something I already know,” Reagan snapped before realizing Meena was the last person she wanted to take her frustration out on before adding, “I’m sorry.”
“Hey, don’t be sorry with me. I just worry about you is all. I don’t want you to get hurt…”
