Page 42 of Top Shelf
Me: Cute. Who’s it for?
Ferris: My vegetable collection.
He sent another photo of a windowsill full of tiny vegetables with big black eyes and tiny sideways comma smiles. The background beyond the window showed a rainy day, which meant he’d taken the picture some other time. That was probably the frat house.
Me: Cute. I have to go take care of my cat, but I’ll see you Monday.
Ferris: You have a cat?
Me: You inspired me. *photo*
Ferris: Tell her I love her.
Me: I will. Have a good night.
I let him take that as a dismissal. My feelings were crossing lines and boundaries. I had to be careful with the rest. I was just starting this job, and I couldn’t let what I wanted put what I had at risk. Even if I did something with him—even if we had just one more time—eventually, he would leave, and I would be here.
I had too much to lose.
So I turned my phone face down on the table, closed my eyes, and hoped I could sleep until the ache in my chest was long gone.
The ache didn’t go anywhere.I tried to sleep it out, Xanax it out, jerk it out…hell, I walked six miles over the weekend, until my knee tried to leave my body in protest, to try and sweat it out. But every time I was still, I was thinking about Ferris. It took all of my self-control to not drive past campus.
In fact, it was only reminding myself that he wasn’t even there that stopped me from doing it. If I had friends—real friends, not flaky work friends—I might have been able to go out. Someone could wingman me into someone else’s pants, and I could forget for a little while.
Or I could stay soft and embarrass the fuck out of myself, and at least that would be more distracting than knowing I was about to see Ferris in a matter of hours.
But I didn’t. My life was small and sad.
I ended up binging random shows that had pretty thumbnails and trying to force Clawdine to love me the way internet cats loved their owners. That didn’t work out either, and Monday morning, I had a nice long scratch mark on the side of my jaw to show for it. Luckily, I hadn’t shaved in a while, so the hair covered it up.
I was a professional though. I showered, picked out my most comfy and worn pair of scrubs, then turned up on time and only caught myself watching the clock when I was in between patients. Mondays were my busiest day. I’d absorbed all of Cal’s regulars, so it was back-to-back appointments with only fifteen minutes to shovel something down my gullet so I didn’t pass out on one of my patients.
We needed to hire help, or I was going to burn out quickly. I knew that Cal had posted a listing on Indeed, as well as put the word out there in the network for anyone who was looking to change offices or join a group instead of holding up a private practice.
But I also knew that I was Cal’s exception. He didn’t want to hire fresh grads. He’d given me the interview as a courtesy, but we ended up clicking, and he went against his policy to offer me a place. I was grateful for it.
At least, I used to be.
Now, as I massaged my back and tried not to see exactly what time it was since it was nearly five, I was regretting a lot of my choices.
“Need a massage?”
I turned to find Rachel, the last tech on duty, smiling at me. “I need a new PT or five.”
She laughed and shook her head. “Yeah. If you ask me…actually, never mind. I’m not going to bitch about my boss.”
“You think he’s trying to shut the practice down by making it miserable for everyone so they all quit and he can still say he tried?” I offered.
Her eyes widened.
“I had the same thought. It’s…well. Whatever.” That would suck for me, but at least it wouldn’t be my fault. And I knew Cal would help me find somewhere else to plant roots. Maybe away from here. Maybe in one of the suburbs, so I could stay close but also know I’d never run into the man I wasn’t allowed to have.
“You look dead on your feet,” Rachel said. “The guy in the waiting room—he’s the only one left, right?”
The guy in the waiting room, who happened to be Ferris. Fuck. “Yeah. My last appointment of the day. If you want to take off, actually, I can handle getting him checked out.”
She pulled a face. “I don’t want to leave you, but that’s tempting. I have a huge paper due on Thursday.” After a beat of silence, she shrugged. “Let me at least grab you some dinner. I’ll hop over to Frescas and leave it at the desk. I don’t think you should drive home without getting something more than that garbage salad in your system.”
