Page 36 of Playing Doctor

No more.

She took out her phone. Her fingers trembled as she entered Gabe’s number, and then she hesitated. What if he didn’t want to talk to her, let her call go to voicemail, and deleted it without hearing what she had to say? Or worse, what if he picked up, her nerves kicked in, and she rattled off some idiotic garble that made no sense and he hung up on her?

She could text him, but that was so impersonal. She wanted to hear his voice.

Her thumb hovered over the call tab as a terrifying thought occurred. What if he’d changed his mind? What if she’d hurt him with her thoughtless comparison to Jamie and he decided she wasn’t worth the trouble, told her to take her one night mantra to a proctologist for advice on the best place to stick it?

Then again, what if she didn’t contact him, and missed out on the chance of a lifetime? How would she know if she didn’t at least give it a try?

It was time to stop living in the world of what ifs.

And the first thing she needed to do was apologize for hurting him.

She took a fortifying breath and hit Call. Please, please don’t go to voicemail. The things she had to say, she didn’t want to leave on a machine. He picked up on the third ring.

“Dr. North.”

Seconds ticked by, and then she took a breath. “Hi, Gabe. It’s Beth.”

“Beth?” Surprise resonated in his voice. “How are you?”

She swallowed. “I’m good. You?” Gah, could she sound any lamer?

“Good. On the road.”

Beth’s foot tapped a rapid tattoo on the carpet. A conversation like this could go on for hours without ever saying anything…or she could just spit it out.

“I…ah, just called to say…” Please don’t let me mess this up. “…I’ve been thinking about what I said, just before you left…”

“Yeah?” Was that hope in his voice?

“About things being good with Jamie at first…I wasn’t making a comparison. I’m sorry if I hurt you.”

His hesitation in answering confirmed it. “Oh. Apology accepted. Don’t ever be afraid to say what you feel, Beth. Not to me.”

It’s now or never, Beth. Just say it. “I’ve changed my mind.”

Silence. Her stomach plunged.

“Changed your mind as in…” Caution trailed words that were neither question nor comment.

“As in…us, if you still…”

“Yes, I still do.” The ring of finality in his voice left no doubt.

It was as if someone pulled the plug on the tension reserve stored in Beth’s body and happiness rushed in and filled it back up.

Someone knocked on Beth’s door, and as usual, a head poked in before she could either say yea or nay. The head of radiology held up his wrist and tapped the face of his watch. “Meeting at two.”

Beth checked her own watch and groaned. “Be right there.”

“You have to go?” His deep voice held both regret and resignation.

“I do, I’m sorry. Another meeting,” she sighed. “There’s so much more I need to say.” Another department head stopped at her door, waved for Beth to follow, and then dashed away. “But I really need to go.”

Gabe cleared his throat. “I need to tell you…” Her pager went off, another reminder to get it in gear. “But duty calls,” he sighed. “I’m glad you called, Beth. I’ve missed you.”

Her heart sputtered, and then resumed with a rapid thump against her ribs. The hollow cavity in her chest expanded and the oddest sensation crept in and tested the space. Joy, long absent when associated with the opposite sex, welled up and surrounded her heart in its warm embrace.

“I’ve missed you, too,” Beth admitted as yet another head peeked in and nodded for her to follow. “I’m sorry, I have to go. Talk to you after?”

“Oh, yeah, you can bank on it.”

Beth ended the call, grabbed a legal pad and a pen, and headed for the meeting. Her heels clicked on the shiny tile floor with renewed purpose as she clipped down the hall to the conference room. The Beth she’d seen in the mirror at the hotel was back and it felt damn good.

Chapter Twelve

Beth glanced at her watch and smothered another unsatisfying, closed-mouth yawn. The Chief Financial Officer clicked his remote, flashing yet another slide of brightly colored graphs across the huge, pull-down screen in the conference room. The nasal, monotonous drone of his voice caused her eyes to glaze over, and if he didn’t wind it up soon, she’d be drooling like Homer Simpson.

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