Page 123 of Sweet, Sweet Jewel: A Sweet Treats Novel

“Doctor Kelly?”

“Huh?” I snapped to attention only to find Tawny waving her hand in front of my face.

“Where did you wander off to just now?”

“Nowhere.” I cleared my throat. “I’ll take my lunch now. Call me if there’s an emergency.”

“Yes, Doctor.” Tawny saluted and broke away to assist the patients.

I picked my keys out of my pocket and opened my office door, flipping on the light. The sight of blood on the floor made me skitter back. It looked like someone had been murdered in here.

Then I remembered Portia and exhaled sheepishly, glancing around to make sure no one had witnessed me jump like a man who’d never seen blood before.

I strode in and decided to clean up.

Grabbing brown paper towels and my jumbo bottle of hand sanitizer, I got down on my knee and scrubbed until the red paste disappeared.

A smile touched my lips when I remembered how vehemently Ms. Portia Robinson had rejected my treatment and the complete 180 that happened when she started bleeding.

In moments of panic, my gender was obsolete.

It wasn’t the first time someone had gotten over her reservations about a male OB/GYN in a short span, but it was the first time the shift had been so transparent.

I crumpled the napkins in my hand and threw them in the trash. Trotting to the bathroom, I washed my hands thoroughly in the sink and then raked my still wet fingers through my light brown hair.

My familiar reflection made me uneasy. I quickly left.

A few minutes later, I grabbed a tray from the hospital cafeteria and moved toward the glass display case. As a doctor, I got line privileges—which was something simple, but it brought me inestimable joy.

After selecting a plate of rice and beans, beef meatballs, potato salad and fried plantain, I glanced around and looked for a place to sit.

The food here was so good that students and workers in the area popped in to buy meals. It was a few minutes to one o’clock so the lingering crowd was surprising.

“Shawn!” A dark hand shot out of the crowd and waved. “Yo, come over here!”

I debated pretending not to hear and just prancing to my office. Eating alone didn’t faze me. It never had. When I was a medical student, I was lucky for a non-hectic moment just to cram my face with pizza.

“Shawn!”

I groaned when the hand rose up and revealed a shoulder attached to a body.

Jack Trainer’s body.

Great.

As Jack trotted toward me, I had a split second desire to run. Run as far and fast as I could. Jack—a doctor of internal medicine, which was a loose term for someone who did non-surgical treatment—was always cracking jokes.

Most of them in poor taste.

I put one foot forward, but before I could bolt, Jack slapped his meaty paws on my shoulders, anchoring me in place. “Doctor Kelly.”

“Doctor Trainer.”

“Don’t be shy, man.” He steered me forward, winding his arm above my shoulder like a farmer leading a stubborn cow.

I shuffled along, scowling the entire way.

This was Tawny’s fault. I would have swatted Jack’s hand off and made it clear that I had no interest in sitting with him on any other day. But Tawny’s little comment about being friendly had made an impact.

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