couldn’t see into the future, but she liked the idea of having dinner with him, a lot more than her recent dinner with the actor/underwear model. At least they had medicine in common, and they both had crazy schedules.
“Okay,” she agreed. “Dinner in scrubs and Crocs. It’s a deal.”
“How about Friday or Saturday? Someone screwed up the schedule and gave me the weekend off.”
“Lucky you. I’m working Friday, and on call Saturday. We could give it a whirl, and hope I don’t get called in.”
“Perfect.” They exchanged cell phone numbers, just as she got a text from L and D. One of their mothers on bed rest had gone into labor, and her water had just broken. They wanted her to take a look. The attending was in surgery. She glanced at Alex regretfully and told him she had to go, but they had had a nice reprieve for lunch. They had been there for over an hour, and had established a good basis for a friendship, or anything else that happened. It had been a pleasant exchange, and she felt surprisingly comfortable with him, more so than with most men. She just didn’t like the games you had to play, and that most men seemed to expect on a “date.” She wasn’t flirtatious, and she always said what she meant, which frightened a lot of men. Alex didn’t seem to mind it—on the contrary, he liked it. And she wondered how he and Valentina would get along. He wasn’t her style, and she suspected her sister would find him boring, which Sasha didn’t find him at all. Their conversation had been lively and thoughtful, and she liked that there was no artifice about him, and he didn’t seem to have a big ego, which was something she didn’t like about male doctors. A lot of them thought they walked on water and were full of themselves. And she liked that he seemed able to laugh at himself, and was fairly modest and respectful of her.
They left the cafeteria, and he walked her back to labor and delivery, where she thanked him for lunch, and he headed back to neonatal ICU on the same floor. They had just texted him too. They both had to get back to work.
“See you Saturday,” he said more casually than he felt. “Don’t forget to wear your scrubs,” he teased her, and half meant it. “That way I can wear mine and don’t have to find a clean shirt.” She laughed at him.
“I’ll try for jeans,” she promised, and as he walked down the hall, there was a spring in his step and a smile on his face.
“What are you so happy about?” Marjorie, the head nurse, asked him when he got to the NICU. “Are you on drugs?” She smiled at him. He was nice to work with, and the nurses liked him, and he was a good-looking guy.
“I have a date,” he confided, looking like a kid. It was hard to believe that was a big deal to him.
“Lucky girl,” the nurse said to him. She was married and ten years older than he was, so she wasn’t interested, but they all thought he was a catch. One of them said he was a “hunk,” unbeknownst to him. He was unaware of the things they said about him, which was just as well.
“Lucky me,” he corrected her. He could hardly wait for Saturday night. And as Sasha walked into the labor room to check on her patient, she was smiling too.
—
Claire and Morgan met at Max’s restaurant for dinner that night. Claire had stopped at the apartment to change her clothes, and Morgan came straight from work. Max was happy to see her and kissed her when she walked in.
“Who are you having dinner with?” He had seen her name on the reservation list and was curious.
“Claire. She wanted to talk to me privately. I think about work.” He nodded and walked her to the table. The restaurant was busy that night, and Claire walked in a few minutes later with a distracted look. She kissed Max on her way in, and saw Morgan waiting for her with a glass of wine.
“Thanks for having dinner with me,” Claire said as she sat down. Meeting away from the apartment made it seem more official, but
“Okay,” she agreed. “Dinner in scrubs and Crocs. It’s a deal.”
“How about Friday or Saturday? Someone screwed up the schedule and gave me the weekend off.”
“Lucky you. I’m working Friday, and on call Saturday. We could give it a whirl, and hope I don’t get called in.”
“Perfect.” They exchanged cell phone numbers, just as she got a text from L and D. One of their mothers on bed rest had gone into labor, and her water had just broken. They wanted her to take a look. The attending was in surgery. She glanced at Alex regretfully and told him she had to go, but they had had a nice reprieve for lunch. They had been there for over an hour, and had established a good basis for a friendship, or anything else that happened. It had been a pleasant exchange, and she felt surprisingly comfortable with him, more so than with most men. She just didn’t like the games you had to play, and that most men seemed to expect on a “date.” She wasn’t flirtatious, and she always said what she meant, which frightened a lot of men. Alex didn’t seem to mind it—on the contrary, he liked it. And she wondered how he and Valentina would get along. He wasn’t her style, and she suspected her sister would find him boring, which Sasha didn’t find him at all. Their conversation had been lively and thoughtful, and she liked that there was no artifice about him, and he didn’t seem to have a big ego, which was something she didn’t like about male doctors. A lot of them thought they walked on water and were full of themselves. And she liked that he seemed able to laugh at himself, and was fairly modest and respectful of her.
They left the cafeteria, and he walked her back to labor and delivery, where she thanked him for lunch, and he headed back to neonatal ICU on the same floor. They had just texted him too. They both had to get back to work.
“See you Saturday,” he said more casually than he felt. “Don’t forget to wear your scrubs,” he teased her, and half meant it. “That way I can wear mine and don’t have to find a clean shirt.” She laughed at him.
“I’ll try for jeans,” she promised, and as he walked down the hall, there was a spring in his step and a smile on his face.
“What are you so happy about?” Marjorie, the head nurse, asked him when he got to the NICU. “Are you on drugs?” She smiled at him. He was nice to work with, and the nurses liked him, and he was a good-looking guy.
“I have a date,” he confided, looking like a kid. It was hard to believe that was a big deal to him.
“Lucky girl,” the nurse said to him. She was married and ten years older than he was, so she wasn’t interested, but they all thought he was a catch. One of them said he was a “hunk,” unbeknownst to him. He was unaware of the things they said about him, which was just as well.
“Lucky me,” he corrected her. He could hardly wait for Saturday night. And as Sasha walked into the labor room to check on her patient, she was smiling too.
—
Claire and Morgan met at Max’s restaurant for dinner that night. Claire had stopped at the apartment to change her clothes, and Morgan came straight from work. Max was happy to see her and kissed her when she walked in.
“Who are you having dinner with?” He had seen her name on the reservation list and was curious.
“Claire. She wanted to talk to me privately. I think about work.” He nodded and walked her to the table. The restaurant was busy that night, and Claire walked in a few minutes later with a distracted look. She kissed Max on her way in, and saw Morgan waiting for her with a glass of wine.
“Thanks for having dinner with me,” Claire said as she sat down. Meeting away from the apartment made it seem more official, but
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