“This is the twenty-first century,” Grace said. “If you want to go out with the man, pick up your phone and call him. Or shoot him a text, since that’s what you guys are apparently doing.”
“So asking him isn’t going to make me look crazy or anything, right?” I asked.
“Depends on how you define ‘crazy’,” Emilia said with a giggle.
“You’re a bitch, and I hate you,” I said.
“I’m a bitch, and you love it,” she shot back at me with a smile.
She had a point, and it was a point I wanted to capitalize on. So I pulled my phone from my purse and opened up our conversation. We hadn’t talked much today. He was pulling a double shift at the hospital, so I didn’t want to bother him during it. But the more I stared at our conversation, the more anxious I grew about asking him. What if he said ‘no’? What if I’d rejected him too many times? What if he’d already moved on to someone else?
“Time’s a wastin’,” Grace said. “Message him, Ivy.”
So I drew in a deep breath and began.
Hey there. I know you’re busy at the hospital, so don’t bother responding immediately. But I was wondering if you wanted to go get dinner with me tomorrow night. Let me know. It’ll be my treat.
Then, I sent it off.
“There. Done,” I said.
“Did he say anything back?” Emilia asked.
“The man doesn’t have lightning fingers,” I said. “I literally just sent the-”
My phone rang out and Emilia threw her head back and laughed. Grace’s eyes widened and my hands began to tremble. That was quick. Very quick. Like he’d been watching his phone to see if I would message him. I looked down at his name as it flashed upon my phone screen, and part of me was petrified to open it.
But part of me was curious as to his response.
If I would’ve known you wanted to take the reins, I wouldn't have made a fool out of myself on four separate occasions. I’d love to get dinner with you, but it’s not your treat. Let me know where you want to go. I’ll take you anywhere.
My heart slammed against my chest. He said ‘yes’. A smile crossed my face and the girls began to cheer at our lunch table. I shook my head as I smiled so hard my eyes closed. I held the phone to my chest and sighed, thanking whoever was controlling all of this from above.
“Ivy’s gonna get laid. Ivy’s gonna get laid.”
“Emilia!” I exclaimed. “Can you keep that down?”
“I’m excited for you! It’s about time you wash Zander from your life and keep moving forward.”
“I have to agree with her,” Grace added. “This is a good thing.”
“When are you two going out?” Emilia asked.
“Tomorrow night,” I said. “I offered to pay, but he isn’t letting me.”
“Good. You shouldn’t pay,” Emilia said.
“What happened to this being the twenty-first century?” I asked with a grin.
“That argument only works if I use it,” she said.
“Oh, well. That’s good to know,” Grace said.
I spent the rest of my lunch with the girls talking about what I would wear tomorrow night. I didn’t want to talk about it, but they did. They kept cracking jokes at all the outfits I could put together. After all, if Dean had seen me in all those wild dresses, then I needed to keep the wild streak going. Emilia was focused on the lingerie I should wear underneath my clothes and Grace kept poking fun at the sheer amount of heels I owed. And I had to admit, I had a lot of heels. Most of them not matching anything in my closet. But I liked shoes. Every girl had that one thing they enjoyed whether or not it matched something in their life.
What was so wrong with that?
I hugged their necks tightly and told them I’d keep them updated on how things went. Then, I headed home. And the entire ride back I couldn’t stop thinking about seeing Dean the next night. I went straight to my closet and started rifling through it. Should I wear a dress or some pants? A skirt or some shorts? Oh, shorts with heels. Like the type of outfit I had on when he approached me for the first time. That had apparently caught his eye, which meant it was safe for a repeat episode.
But something like that wouldn’t be appropriate for most of the nightlife restaurants in the area.
I pulled out a few dresses I owned and tried them on. Some fit my body a little too closely, like I was going to the club. Others fluttered a little too much and would get me into trouble if tomorrow night was windy. He’d already seen me in the sandy red dress from the fashion shoot, and the only other things I had were worn-out jeans, sweatpants, and two pairs of black yoga pants that could be passed off as professional if the right shirt was worn.
I guess a shopping trip was in order.
I grabbed my things and went to head out the door just as my phone rang. I dug through my purse and pulled it out, not recognizing the number that was calling.
And once I picked it up, I wished I hadn’t.
Chapter Eight
Dean
I was cautiously optimistic about our date plans. I’d asked Ivy out on four separate occasions for dinner, and each time she’d turned me down. But when she messaged me out of the blue during my double-shift at work, I’d been so elated to hear from her that I said ‘yes’ without even thinking. I wanted to take her to dinner. I wanted to see her again. I wanted to spend time with her and talk with her face-to-face and listen as her voice filled my ears. We bantered back and forth all the time. Stayed up until late hours of the night texting back and forth. I felt connected with her, even though I’d only seen her once. There was something brewing between the two of us and I wanted to explore it.
But four ‘no’’s?
It kept me cautious about the situation.
Still, I was excited. I got off from the hospital and went home to get some rest. And all night, I dreamt of her. Of those long legs wrapped around my waist and my hands running through that beautiful blonde and green hair. I felt her lips on my neck and her skin against mine. I felt the way her hands massaged my chest. My abs. My back. Indulging in the muscles I cultivated in the gym. My mind took me to places I didn’t dare think about on the job. Places that forced me to wake up with a throbbing groin against the mattress of my bed. I saw my body pressed against hers in all sorts of positions. On my lap. With her legs over my shoulders. Against the wall as she desperately clung to me. I saw her hanging over the balcony of my apartment, my cock driving in and out of her as the sun set for my viewing pleasure.
I got up and took a cold shower to try and get my body to calm down.
I was looking forward to dinner with her that night. But I wouldn’t be able to take her home. Which was fine. Ivy didn’t strike me as the type of woman to sleep with a man on the first date. The plan was to pick her up at six and take her out to what was apparently her favorite hibachi place. Those places where they cooked in front of you. Then, maybe I’d take her on a walk through the park. Hand in hand. Maybe dance with her a little bit underneath the stars. I enjoyed romance. I enjoyed doling out romance. I enjoyed the sparkle in women’s eyes whenever they were romanced.
And I really wanted to romance Ivy.
But I had to make sure I packed a pair of scrubs, because my shift at the hospital was a midnight shift this weekend. Dinner at six, walking and dancing at eight, then I had to be into work by ten. It gave me enough time to really treat her right before leaving her to want more.
And if I was lucky, I’d get to feel my lips against hers once I dropped her off.
A woman like Ivy deserved that type of evening. The kind where the man was respectful of her wishes and did nothing but make her smile. She wasn’t paying for a thing, either. I knew she was independent and had a career of her own, but that didn’t mean I couldn't treat her to something. And a nice evening out was what she wanted.
Needed.
It’s what I needed, too.
I ate a little bit of breakfast, then I headed back to bed. If I was going to be up all night, I needed
all the rest I could get. My mind left me alone this time, choosing to sleep instead of to dream. And I woke up more refreshed than ever. It was two o’clock in the afternoon and I had more than enough time to get ready. I took a long, hot shower. I took my time shaving. I pulled out my tailored gray suit and paired it with all black. I had to make sure everything was in place. It was the only way I’d be able to keep up with a fashionista like Ivy. I could only imagine what she’d be wearing tonight, and as I tightened my slim black tie, I looked over at the clock.
It was five, and I hadn’t heard from Ivy yet.
I walked over to my phone and sent her a text message. She was supposed to get me her address by now. Worry pooled in my gut as I sat on the edge of my bed and I wondered if she was okay. If she was having second thoughts about our date. I watched my phone as the seconds ticked by. I felt suspended in midair. Floating in space without a way to breathe. Her name popped up onto my phone, giving me an ounce of relief as I opened her message.
Then, my stomach sank.
I’m so sorry, Dean. I’ve tried everything. But I can’t come out tonight. I’ll explain when I get back into town, but I’ve got to go. My flight’s about to take off.
Her flight?
Where the hell was she going?
It’s okay. Have a safe trip.
It was all I could think of to say. Disappointment hung in my gut as I tossed my phone onto the bed. I looked up into the mirror in front of me and scoffed. I looked like an idiot. I got up from the bed and started peeling my suit away. The tie. The black shirt. The coat. The pants. There was no use for it any longer and now I had time to burn. I slipped back into a pair of sweatpants and a comfortable shirt, then grabbed the scrubs I had packed for the night.
I was hungry.
I drove around town until a restaurant called to me. There was a small wings and beer place tucked in a back alley that called to my stomach. I parked and grabbed my wallet, then went inside and picked a table in the corner. I didn’t want to be disturbed. I didn’t want people to come up and talk to me. That was the thing about being featured in a prestigious article. People always came up and talked to me.
And I didn’t feel like talking.
“What can I get you?”
I looked up at the waiter before my eyes glanced down at the menu in front of me.
The menu I hadn’t touched yet.
“Um… your best bottled beer and twenty hot buffalo wings. And a double side of fries.”
“Anything else?” the waiter asked.
“Got any desserts?”
“We have a great molten lava cake. We have it in salted caramel, too.”
“The caramel sounds good. Never been a fan of chocolate.”
“Me, neither. And it’s great. You want it all together?” he asked.
“Sure. Why not?”
I handed the menu to the man and relaxed back into the booth. I didn’t know why I was so disappointed. It was just a date. And she’d rejected me four times already. I wasn't sure why I’d convinced myself this time would be any different. I closed my eyes and tried to rid my mind of everything. Tried to block out the hurt I was feeling for no fucking reason. This was stupid. No woman should have a hold on me like this. All we did was text for a few days after meeting once. This was bullshit.
And yet, the disappointment continued to multiply.
I ate my meal in silence. Twenty hot wings, four beers, and one very luscious dessert. And it was all fantastic. I’d have to tell the nurses about this place when I got into work. Nurse Mary loved herself some wings, and I bet she didn’t know about this place. I wouldn’t have known about it had I not been actively looking for restaurant signs. Their sign hung off the side of the building and was hardly illuminated.
But the place was packed with people.
I paid my tab before I pulled my phone out of my wallet. Another pang of disappointment rushed through me when I saw I didn’t have a text message from her. But why would I? She was on a plane headed to fuck only knew where. It was probably for work, but I had no way of knowing that. For all I knew, she was taking some impromptu trip with friends and leaving me high and dry.
It’s happened before.
Before I could catch what time it was, my phone lit up with one simple name. A name that would free me from the lonely dinner I was having and thrust me into the chaotic life of an overworked doctor.
Work was calling.
“This is Dean.”
“Hey, Doctor Anderson. I know you’re slated for ten o’clock tonight, but is there any way you could get in here sooner?”
“Mary?” I asked.
“Yep. It’s me. We’ve had throngs of pregnant women come into the E.R. and they’re all experiencing a lot of the same complications. We’re swamped and we need all hands on deck.”
“I’ll be there soon. And remind me to tell you about this wing place I found tonight.”
“Oh, I’ll definitely remember something like that. See you soon.”
I pulled out some money and tossed it onto the table. I needed to get out of there. I rushed to my car and cranked it up, then peeled out of the parking space and sped to the hospital. Pregnant women with the same symptoms? This should be interesting.
This also meant my crash-course in obstetrics would finally come in handy.
I pulled into the hospital parking lot and reached for my work clothes. I changed in the front seat of my car, making use of the tinted windows. I popped my trunk and pulled out my white jacket, then locked everything up and took off towards the emergency room doors.
And the second I walked in, chaos ensued.
“Doctor Anderson! Over here!”
I ran towards Mary’s voice and saw a woman with blood between her legs lying on a gurney.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“We’ve got twenty women in labor in our hospital right now and they’re all experiencing the same symptoms. Elevated blood pressure, anemia, placenta previa, and their children are all in distress. But we don’t have enough operating rooms to get them all into surgery at once,” she said.
“We have to figure out where these women came from,” I said.
“Aaaaaaaah!”
The woman on the hospital bed rose up and began to push. I flipped her gown over as her husband grabbed her hand and tried to evaluate her as best as I could.
“What’s the time stamp on the O.R.’s?” I asked.
“They’re all full. The next one won’t be open for another hour,” Mary said.
“Okay. Ma’am, I need you to listen to me as best as you can,” I said.
“AAAAAAHHHHHH!”
“What is it, doctor?” the man asked.
“Both your wife and your child are in distress. I’m going to use every intervention tactic I can, but if I have to knock her out to do this, I will.”
“Don’t… do that,” the woman said. “Please.”
“Then listen to me, ma’am. I need you to try and stay as still as possible, and I know that’s hard. But your life and the life of your child are at stake here. Okay? So grip onto Mary’s hand as well as your husband’s and try to stay put.”
“Doctor Anderson?”
“A little busy!” I exclaimed.
“I think I know how the women are connected.”
I looked back at one of the male nurses that usually staffed the NICU department.
“Can it wait until this woman delivers?” I asked.
“It can. Do you need assistance?”
“I need you to prop her leg up and help her onto her side,” I said.
The woman screamed and her body did what it knew it needed to do. But her vitals and the vitals of the child were very worrisome to me. I straightened her body out as much as I could and grabbed a pair of forceps, trying to gently guide the child out of her body.
Until I realized the child was coming out feet first.
“The baby’s breach. Change of plans,” I said. “Get me a local anesthetic
and a scalpel.”
“What are you doing?” the husband asked.
“Getting your child out alive. Now let me do my job,” I said.
I numbed up the woman’s perineal tissue and began to slowly cut away at it. I tried to widen her birth canal as much as I could before I put my hands anywhere inside of her. The baby’s feet were coming at me as a very fast pace, and I could tell the mother was already growing tired.
If she could keep pushing until we got to the shoulders, I could do the rest.
Push after push, and the baby slowly descended to me. But its vitals were getting worse. The child’s blood pressure was dropping while the mother’s skyrocketed, and I wasn’t sure I was going to get the child out in time. I gripped onto the hips of the child and gently began to pull. I eased the child out of the mother until nothing but the child’s head needed to be birthed.
And then the mother collapsed.
“What’s happening? Laura? Laura!”
“We need a crash cart in here!”
“Doctor Anderson, you need-”
“I’ve almost got this child,” I said.
The crash cart was wheeled in and the husband was shoved off to the side. After a few delicate twists, the child finally dislodged from the woman’s body. The placenta was right behind the child and the cord was twisted around its neck.
His neck.
The small child was a boy, and the cord was wrapped around his neck.
I rolled away from the woman while they tried to revive her and began cleaning up the child myself. I removed the cord and quickly detached the child from the placenta. I did everything I needed to. Suctioned the throat and nostrils. Thumped the feet of the baby to make sure blood flow was good.
“Come on,” I said with a whisper. “Cry for us, little one.”
“Why isn’t he crying?” the husband asked with tears in his eyes.
“We have an O.R. open! Who’s next?” a nurse asked.
The mother’s body was thumping and crashing and the child wasn’t crying. Women were screaming in the waiting room and begging for medicine in the hospital rooms of the E.R. I heard the woman’s vital signs leap to life and I whipped around with her baby boy in my arms. Her eyes ripped open and she gasped for air as I slid back her gown.
Falling Into You: The Complete Naughty Tales Series Page 39