was holding his phone out to him. They traded phones once again and Guy felt great relief as he slid it into the pocket of his suit coat. “ Merci beaucoup , Charlotte. For talking with me, and for your number. I am looking forward to doing this again.”
“So I am,” Charlotte said, and Guy was almost sure she meant it.
He forced himself to stand after leaving enough cash on the table for both their drinks. Charlotte followed, and Guy hoped he was not imagining her regret at having to end their time together. Neither one spoke as they exited the restaurant. It was not until they reached the sidewalk and were faced with the prospect of going their separate ways that they both attempted to speak at the same time.
Charlotte laughed and allowed Guy to speak first. He had meant to say a simple goodbye, but instead, he said, “You know, you can call me if you need to talk about anything, yes? You have been so kind to listen to me the last few times we have met. I would be happy to exchange the favor.”
“Return the favor,” Charlotte corrected with a smile that seemed to tremble at the corners. “Thank you, Guy. I really appreciate that.”
Reluctantly, he extended his hand toward her. She took it and they shook slowly, neither one eager to part. “Aren’t you supposed to be kissing me or something?” Charlotte asked, her playful smile returning.
“Excuse me?” Guy asked, surprised, yet not at all reluctant to answer her question.
“I thought the French were always kissing each other on the cheek when they said hello or goodbye. Perhaps you’ve been too Americanized for that, though,” Charlotte said.
Guy stepped closer, and this time he was not teasing. “Not at all,” he said as his free hand slipped to the back of her neck. He heard her breath catch, felt her body go completely still. Yet he did not pull back. His lips pressed gently first to one cheek, and then the other, lingering a fraction of a second too long.
He pulled back slowly. Charlotte’s breathing came haltingly, but his had stalled altogether. For too long, neither one could do anything but stare at the other. It was Charlotte who finally broke the silence. “Well,” she said shakily, “that answers that question.”
“You have more questions which need answered?” Guy asked. His mouth turned up in a wicked grin.
Charlotte let out a held breath at his teasing. “Any other questions I have can wait until next time. You’re going to be late for work.”
Sighing, Guy forced himself to step back and release her. “I will see you again soon, yes?”
Charlotte nodded, a smile playing on her lips as she said goodbye for real. Guy watched her walk away, knowing he was going to be late, but not caring nearly as much as he should. He only turned back toward the hospital because his phone began ringing, no doubt Dr. Canton demanding to know where he was. He was about to answer the call and offer his apologies, but found himself confronted with a different doctor, one he knew not only from helping out on the oncology floor the past few weeks, but from his days of medical school rotations.
“Guy,” Dr. Myles said, “are you just coming in?”
“ Oui , traded shifts with Canton.”
Myles nodded, but his thoughts seemed to be on something else. “Was that Charlotte Brooks you were just talking to?”
Guy nodded.
“I didn’t know you two knew each other.”
“We just met last week. Stumbled into each other at work. She was on your floor, actually, delivering paperwork or something. I meant to ask her what floor she works on.” Guy shook his head at his forgetfulness.
For some reason, Myles’ brows knit together in concern. “Guy, she doesn’t work at the hospital.”
“ Comment cela ?” What did he mean Charlotte did not work at the hospital? What else would she be doing there so often?
Myles set his hand on Guy’s shoulder, forcing him to focus. “Guy, she doesn’t work here. She’s one of my
“So I am,” Charlotte said, and Guy was almost sure she meant it.
He forced himself to stand after leaving enough cash on the table for both their drinks. Charlotte followed, and Guy hoped he was not imagining her regret at having to end their time together. Neither one spoke as they exited the restaurant. It was not until they reached the sidewalk and were faced with the prospect of going their separate ways that they both attempted to speak at the same time.
Charlotte laughed and allowed Guy to speak first. He had meant to say a simple goodbye, but instead, he said, “You know, you can call me if you need to talk about anything, yes? You have been so kind to listen to me the last few times we have met. I would be happy to exchange the favor.”
“Return the favor,” Charlotte corrected with a smile that seemed to tremble at the corners. “Thank you, Guy. I really appreciate that.”
Reluctantly, he extended his hand toward her. She took it and they shook slowly, neither one eager to part. “Aren’t you supposed to be kissing me or something?” Charlotte asked, her playful smile returning.
“Excuse me?” Guy asked, surprised, yet not at all reluctant to answer her question.
“I thought the French were always kissing each other on the cheek when they said hello or goodbye. Perhaps you’ve been too Americanized for that, though,” Charlotte said.
Guy stepped closer, and this time he was not teasing. “Not at all,” he said as his free hand slipped to the back of her neck. He heard her breath catch, felt her body go completely still. Yet he did not pull back. His lips pressed gently first to one cheek, and then the other, lingering a fraction of a second too long.
He pulled back slowly. Charlotte’s breathing came haltingly, but his had stalled altogether. For too long, neither one could do anything but stare at the other. It was Charlotte who finally broke the silence. “Well,” she said shakily, “that answers that question.”
“You have more questions which need answered?” Guy asked. His mouth turned up in a wicked grin.
Charlotte let out a held breath at his teasing. “Any other questions I have can wait until next time. You’re going to be late for work.”
Sighing, Guy forced himself to step back and release her. “I will see you again soon, yes?”
Charlotte nodded, a smile playing on her lips as she said goodbye for real. Guy watched her walk away, knowing he was going to be late, but not caring nearly as much as he should. He only turned back toward the hospital because his phone began ringing, no doubt Dr. Canton demanding to know where he was. He was about to answer the call and offer his apologies, but found himself confronted with a different doctor, one he knew not only from helping out on the oncology floor the past few weeks, but from his days of medical school rotations.
“Guy,” Dr. Myles said, “are you just coming in?”
“ Oui , traded shifts with Canton.”
Myles nodded, but his thoughts seemed to be on something else. “Was that Charlotte Brooks you were just talking to?”
Guy nodded.
“I didn’t know you two knew each other.”
“We just met last week. Stumbled into each other at work. She was on your floor, actually, delivering paperwork or something. I meant to ask her what floor she works on.” Guy shook his head at his forgetfulness.
For some reason, Myles’ brows knit together in concern. “Guy, she doesn’t work at the hospital.”
“ Comment cela ?” What did he mean Charlotte did not work at the hospital? What else would she be doing there so often?
Myles set his hand on Guy’s shoulder, forcing him to focus. “Guy, she doesn’t work here. She’s one of my
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