Page 22 of Dr. Roz Harrington
Sam:“Thinking about you. How’s the lamb?”
Roz stifled a laugh, her fingers brushing the phone under the table.
Roz:“Dry. And I’m thinking about you too.”
Sam:“Careful. You’ll blush, and your mom will ask why.”
Roz’s lips twitched, but the moment was short-lived.
“Rosalind” Evelyn’s voice cut through the chatter, her tone sharp. “You’ve been quiet. I hope you’re not planning another one of your…unconventional career moves.”
Roz’s head snapped up. “I wasn’t aware sticking to neurosurgery was unconventional.”
Evelyn’s gaze didn’t waver. “It’s not your work I’m concerned about. It’s your image. You have a reputation to uphold. That pink hair of yours?—”
“Is staying,” Roz interrupted, her voice cold. “Thanks for your input.”
Olivia sighed. “Mother, Roz is one of the best neurosurgeons on the West Coast. I think her patients care more about her skill than her hair color.”
“Thank you, Olivia,” Roz said, raising her glass in a mock toast.
Evelyn’s lips thinned, but she pressed on, “Your personal life, then. You’re not getting any younger, Rosalind. When are you going to settle down? Lily’s already engaged, and Catherine?—”
“Catherine’s already perfect, we know,” Roz snapped. “And for the record, I’m perfectly happy with my life as it is.”
Catherine cleared her throat, clearly uncomfortable. Olivia shot Roz a pleading look, but Roz ignored it, her hands curling into fists under the table.
Evelyn tilted her head, her expression inscrutable. “Happiness is fleeting, Rosalind. Stability is what lasts. You’d do well to remember that.”
Roz bit back a sharp retort, her mind flashing to Sam, the warmth of her smile, the way she’d made Roz feel the nightbefore. Stable wasn’t the word she’d use for their connection, but it felt more real than anything she’d had before.
The rest of the meal passed in tense silence, punctuated by polite exchanges between Evelyn and Catherine. Olivia did her best to lighten the mood, but even she seemed worn down by the oppressive atmosphere.
As dessert was served, Roz’s phone buzzed again. She glanced at it under the table.
Sam:“How’s the armor holding up?”
Roz hesitated, her thumb hovering over the keyboard before she replied.
Roz:“Cracked. Might need reinforcements.”
Sam:“Reinforcements on standby. Just say the word.”
Roz smiled faintly, slipping the phone back into her pocket. Her family didn’t need to know where her mind was—or her heart, if she were being honest.
As the meal wound down, Roz excused herself, rising from the table. “Thank you for lunch.”
Evelyn’s sharp gaze followed her, but Roz didn’t linger. She grabbed her jacket and headed for the door, her chest tight.
Outside, the cool air was a welcome relief. She pulled her phone out again, typing quickly.
Roz:“Dinner at my place tonight? Your turn to bring reinforcements.”
The reply came almost immediately.
Sam:“Be there at 7. Don’t start without me.”
Roz slid into her car, her fingers tightening on the wheel as she exhaled slowly. The weight of her family’s expectations clung to her like a second skin, but the thought of seeing Sam later felt like a lifeline, a reminder that she could be more than the version of herself her family wanted.
