Page 2 of Merry Little Heartbreak

Then the paramedics with gurneys were pouring in from the ambulance bay, and she was too busy for the next two hours to worry about how long the director or Drake stuck around. But if she were honest, she’d known the minute he left because her heart stopped racing, and the hairs on the back of her neck went down. All these years, and he still had the allure to make her entire body respond. He’d only gotten more confident and gorgeous with time.

Over ten years felt like ten minutes. And he looked even better in person than in the medical journals she always looked for him in.

Chapter Two

Margo

The incandescent crystal chandeliers glimmered above, and white Christmas trees framed the plush, red carpeted stairs that lead up to the grand ballroom in DC’s fanciest hotel. It was only November, but they were already dazzling guests with a wintery wonderland of epic proportions.

“Oh my word,” Margo squealed. “This is like my holiday dream coming to life.” She squeezed her colleague’s arm as her eyes darted around the entrance to the ballroom to take in all the glamor. Lights and music cascaded out from the towering gold encrusted doorway, beckoning her.

“Why don’t you go inside while I check our coats? I feel like you might need a few minutes just to take it all in,” Dr. Dalton Hart said, stepping behind her to take her winter trench.

“You are the best wingman ever,” she gushed.

“Obviously,” he said before getting in the long coat line.

Margo walked toward the glow of the dazzling room. Huge ice sculptures and spindly, glass white-and-silver trees lined the path that led up to a clear dance floor that lit up wherever people stepped. A band in all white played classic Christmas tunes. Guests were dressed in formalwear, and normally Margo would feel completely out of place, but tonight she looked the part in her midnight-blue velvet gown. The material hugged her curves, her long dark hair hung in big fat curls instead of her usual braid, and she wore deep red lipstick. A far cry from her usual mint-green scrubs issued to all physicians at Mercy Hospital.

Tonight was the first time she agreed to attend the event that kicked off the hospital’s holiday blitz of donor events. Every attending doctor who wasn’t working was expected to help recruit sizable donations. Excitement was in the air, or maybe it was just her and the glee of being dressed up and having the night off. As one of four attending doctors for the emergency department, she rarely had time for much outside of work.

Her best friend and another attending doctor, Dalton, had convinced her to go with him to make some connections. It was the goal of the hospital for the doctors to schmooze the rich donors and garner more donations for the hospital, but Margo had another cause. Her contract with Mercy ended this summer, and she either needed a new contract or a new job.

Lately, she’d felt the fatigue of practicing ER medicine and serving as the manager of all the department’s residents. As much as she enjoyed teaching, it took away from her time with patients. She was torn but needed a plan for what she wanted to do next before she signed another contract. These events were the best way to get time with board members and senior administrators at the hospital to discuss opportunities.

Although Dalton was gorgeous with a ripped former-Navy SEAL physique, icy-blue eyes, and a killer smile, he was like a brother she never had. But tonight, his broad shoulders and a great sense of humor were going to work to her advantage.

Everyone liked Dalton, and his charisma was the buffer she needed to attempt to make some overdue connections. Margo found it difficult to be charming on demand, like being a show pony and convincing people she could jump. But it was a necessary element working in a top-tier hospital and when looking for her next job. Glitzy parties were not a part of her world. Although she was a doctor in a prestigious hospital, she still had student loans to pay off.

Taking a deep breath, she scanned the room, not wanting to go too far and lose Dalton. It was sort of sad that the only date she had was a man she saw every day because they worked overlapping shifts. He was effectively her work husband. At thirty-three, she may have missed her window for the kind of happily ever after she’d planned on, but her work required deep dedication. The hours were long, and the work was not for the faint of heart. She saw the worst of humanity daily in the ER.

“This is a pretty impressive party,” Dalton said as he handed her a coat check ticket and stuck out his elbow for her to take.

“Where do we even start?”

“I thought I’d find you standing in line to see Santa,” he said, guiding her into the crowd.

“Very funny. Wait, is he really here?” she asked, looking around, searching the expansive space.

Dalton laughed. “No, but I heard there is a vodka tasting room,” he said, pointing to the corner where a faux igloo jutted out from the wall.

Margo laughed. “No way. If we go in there, we’ll be too hungover for work tomorrow.”

“First rule of donor events is, nurse your drink until the donors leave, or they get too drunk to remember us breaking it down on the dance floor.”

“Deal,” she said, as they began to make their way farther into the room.

Just as they rounded a cluster of life-size snow globes, her smile faltered, and she gripped Dalton’s arm. Standing at the bar was the one man who could ruin this night for her, the one man she hoped not to see again.

Before she could course correct, his black onyx eyes landed on her and his mouth formed a faint smile, but it fell away when his eyes shifted to Dalton. She couldn’t tell Dalton to do an about-face; he was already making a beeline to the bar where Drake stood.

“Just go with everything I say, okay?” she whisper-yelled to Dalton over the loud music.

“Uh okay, drama,” he teased as they continued their path until they were standing right in front of Drake, who was chatting with several of the nurses from her emergency department.

“Good evening, Dr. Monroe, Dr. Dalton. Isn’t this ice palace fantastic?” one of the women they worked with every day said and moved closer to Drake.

He wore a tailored black suit that must have been fitted by someone who enjoyed torturing her, because it showed off his tall, lean but muscular form to perfection. His square jaw, thick dark hair, and those attentive eyes were all putting her in a trance. She felt mute. She didn’t want to tell her colleagues he was her ex-boyfriend, and she didn’t want to come across as scared. Even though she was because after seeing him again, it was painfully clear she still had feelings for him, and it wasn’t hate.

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