Page 59 of Dr. CEO (The Doctors)

It’s not the first time someone has mistaken me for an army brat. If only the explanation was that simple.

“Or something,” I say.

“You moved around a lot?”

Lucky for me, our conversation is interrupted as the waiter brings two tequilas and two glasses of champagne. Just to cover all bases.

“But you always sit at the same table at the Golden Hare,” she says, smiling at me. “Maybe that’s how you make yourself feel at home—you create routines and patterns in ways people normally wouldn’t. When normally people would go home to the same city, the same flat, the same people.”

I laugh. “I hadn’t thought about it like that. Does that mean you don’t like routine and patterns—if you’ve always lived in the same place, around the same people?”

“Maybe. I’ve never thought about it, but actually I don’t think so. I have lots of routines and patterns. I find them reassuring. Crompton was my place of calm and certainty growing up when there was little about my life that was calm and certain.”

I narrow my eyes, wanting to hear more.

We raise our glasses. “To a lovely evening,” Kate says.

“It’s already my fav—” I start to say, then interrupt myself. “Second favorite evening since I came to Crompton.”

A delicate blush brushes over Kate’s cheeks. “Mine too.”

The tequila melts down my throat and I stretch out my legs, brushing against Kate’s and resting there—connecting us. The silence between us is so comfortable, it’s as if we’ve known each other for years.

“You were talking about your mom when you said things for you weren’t calm and certain?” I want to hear more.

She pauses before she says, “My mum was a…she said she had gypsy blood. That seemed to be a catch-all for her being a disorganized mess.”

“She grew up on Crompton?”

“No, although my grandparents moved here before I was born. My mum moved out from living with them into her boyfriend’s house as soon as she could. And then onto a friend’s sofa and in with another boyfriend, and then into a house share with ten other people. Her life was always like that. She thrived on chaos. On not knowing what was next.”

“And that didn’t change when she had you?”

“Maybe it got worse. I think having a child, someone tied to her, made her crave her freedom more. I just remember my life being very different to the lives of my friends. I would miss school, turn up late to parties, change schools, miss gymnastics. My life lacked…structure.” She moves the salt and pepper shakers like they’re pieces on a chess board—forward, back, left and right. Her fingers are delicate but deliberate.

“So you like that everything stays the same at Crompton.” Things are starting to slot into place.

She looks up and smiles and it’s all light and brightness. “Well it did until you got here. Although I’m not comparing you to my mum.”

I offer a half-smile in return. “I don’t think I thrive on chaos.” I’ve never really given it any consideration before, but then I’ve never been compared to someone else like that before. “Like you say, I have patterns and routines in the world I’m in.”

“And you’re not irresponsible,” she says. I’m not sure if it’s a question.

“Like how?”

“I mean, you’re responsible. You’re the exact opposite of my mum. You’re never late to work or unavailable if Michael or I need you. It’s not like you’d miss an important hospital appointment or something. You do what you say you’re going to do. And that’s…nice.” She smiles but it’s smaller this time, full of warmth and stacked with relief and reassurance. It isn’t the smile that greeted me at the tea shop or the Golden Hare—it’s more intimate than that. A smile reserved for only a fortunate few. Somehow, I inherently understand how lucky I am.

That smile is a hook that catches on my insides.

“Change doesn’t have to be chaos,” I say.

She pulls in a breath and nods. “I know. And I’m still going to work at the estate and the village is just five minutes away and…it’s going to be fine.”

“It could be better than fine,” I say.

“So I keep being told.”

I don’t want to lecture her. It isn’t my place. As much as she doesn’t like change, I can’t stay in one place too long—we are the opposite sides of the same coin. I’m in no position to be throwing stones in my very glass house. “It explains…a lot about you.”

---