Home > Books > Yours Truly (Part of Your World, #2)(19)

Yours Truly (Part of Your World, #2)(19)

Author:Abby Jimenez

I shook my head with a chuckle. “No. But if it makes you feel any better, I’ve gotten all the drunk frat boys this week. One pulled out his IV and stripped naked and took off and I had to tackle him before he escaped. Do you have an arrangement with the charge nurses?”

“Of course. But I’m not sending you all the naked drunk frat boys. I’m only sending you the runners.”

I laughed so loud the waitress looked over at me.

“The last drunk frat boy I got thought he was in a drive-through,” she said. “I had to be all like, ‘Sir! This isn’t an Arby’s!’”

I had to pinch tears from my eyes. God, she was funny.

“Every day is a full moon around here,” she said. “Was it this busy at Memorial West?”

I shook my head. “No, not this bad. But then they weren’t a level-one trauma center, so…”

“Yeah, it keeps us from getting bored for sure. Do you like it better?”

I nodded. “I think I do. Never a dull moment.”

She sounded like she was stretching. “Why’d you pick emergency medicine? I’d think it would be a hard specialty with your anxiety.”

This was a common misconception. And I understood it—high-stress job, not great for the nerves. But it was perfect for me.

I’d always known what I was and was not capable of, even as a child. Your parents tell you that you can grow up to be anything. But I knew from the earliest age that wasn’t true. I remember my teacher telling me I could be president one day, and me replying that I didn’t want to because I didn’t like parades.

“I did a short stint in the emergency department when I was in residency in Las Vegas,” I said.

“You lived in Las Vegas?”

“Just for a few years. Zander and I were roommates—I don’t know if you knew that. We go back a long time, he’s one of my oldest friends. Anyway, he wanted to live there. It was close enough to Utah and I wanted to hike all the parks there, so I went with him. It was between pediatrics and emergency services, but I ended up picking the ER. It’s so fast paced it makes me focus. It’s like my brain gets quiet because it only has time for the task at hand. It’s actually pretty relaxing.”

“I guess that makes sense,” she said. “You get in the zone. It makes work go by so fast. God, could you imagine being a surgeon? Nothing to do but think?”

“I would hate it.”

“Did you ever see any celebrities over there?” she asked.

“Oh, yeah.”

I couldn’t tell her who because of HIPAA and she wouldn’t ask for the same reason, but I could give her broad strokes. “Lots of performers,” I said. “Mostly drunk. Contusions, lacerations. Once I had a big musician come through. He had a bruised hand, but I wrote it up as a fracture.”

“You did? Why?”

I shrugged. “Something told me he needed to take some time off.”

“That was nice of you. But what if you’d gotten busted?”

“I’d just do what our residents do to us. Act like I don’t know what I’m doing.”

She laughed. “It’s a time-honored tradition.”

I smiled. Then the server approached the table.

“Can you hold on a second?” I asked.

I put her on mute and ordered a salad and a club soda with lime. I wasn’t hungry, but I was taking up the table. And I got Lieutenant Dan a grilled chicken breast with no seasoning and a bowl of water.

“Okay, I’m back,” I said.

“So, what do you do for fun?” she asked. “Hector said he saw you at the Cockpit. Do you like bars?”

I shook my head. “No, definitely not.”

I’d had a nightmare once about being in a crowded bar that didn’t have table service and I had to order at the packed counter, squeezing in and shouting at the bartender. I’d woken up in a cold sweat.

“He must have seen me there last summer,” I said. “I’ve only been in there once. Jewel’s wife, Gwen, owns that bar. I went to the farmers’ market with her. She wanted to bring stuff back, I carried a watermelon.”

“You carried a watermelon?” She sounded amused.

“Yup. Nobody puts Baby in a corner.”

She laughed at my Dirty Dancing reference and I smiled at making her do it.

“So if you don’t like bars, where do you take dates?” she asked.

“I’m not dating. I’m just trying to get used to the new job right now. You’re not dating either, right?”

She sighed. “I was trying to date for a little while. But it’s bad out there.”

“Really?” I asked. “How bad?”

“Oh boy, strap in. Bad. There was the guy who brought his three cats with him—”

“He brought his cats?”

“Yeah. I told him I like animals, so he brought his three tabbies. They were loose in the car. Then he realized they couldn’t stay in there while we went to go eat, so he tried to get me to come back to his house to drop them off and see his custom catio.”

“A what?”

“An enclosed patio for a cat. Which I was interested in seeing if I’m being totally honest, but I wasn’t going into some rando’s cat house to get murdered. The whole time he was trying to convince me to come he was wearing one of the cats around his shoulders like a shawl. It was so weird. Then there was the guy who wanted me to look at his rash—”

“I’ve had that date. Before my ex.”

“Why is it always a rash?”

“Sometimes it’s a mole.”

She laughed, hard.

She continued, still cracking up. “One time I met this guy online and he was just like you. Handsome, smart, funny—normal. I kept wondering what the catch was. We made plans to go to dinner and the second we got our drinks he went into a pyramid-scheme pitch.”

I chuckled. I also tried to hide how much I liked that she thought I was handsome and smart and funny.

“God, sometimes I think I only attract the weirdos,” she said.

“You’re a beautiful, intelligent woman,” I said. “You attract everyone.”

She went quiet at this and I wondered if I’d said something I shouldn’t have. It just sort of came out. Maybe it came off as flirting and she didn’t like that? But when she started talking again, she had a smile in her voice.

“It’s amazing how much this dating stuff wears you down after a while. I’m over it. At this point I’d be excited if someone just had their shit together enough to have a headboard.”

“Ha.”

“Do you have a headboard?” she asked.

“Yes. Absolutely.”

The server set my drink down in front of me.

“Congratulations. You’re the one percent.”

I was happy I seemed to have fallen into a category that she approved of, a man in possession of complete bedroom furniture.

“I’m a hair’s breadth away from just finding other like-minded women and starting a coven,” she said, going on. “Anyway, Lieutenant Dan is pretty cute.”

I looked down at my dog, sleeping under the table at my feet.

“The rescue almost didn’t let me have him.”

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