Hope, Heartbreak & High Heels (HHH)

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Hope, Heartbreak & High Heels (HHH) Page 4

by Sheryl


  Aimee laughed. “And you look too pretty to be sitting here! Go enjoy the attention that all the guys here seem to be showering on you! They would make for some great party favours but unluckily Latisha and I are taken” she winked.

  “Hush! Be ladylike!” I scolded. “You know that’s not my style.”

  Aimee sighed. “I know, I know. Real love, committed relationships and all that. No fun and games.”

  Latisha paused her texting and looked up. “True love can be its own sort of fun and games you know.”

  Aimee held up her hands. “You guys win,” she looked up, “Come on, Eva’s walking this way. Let’s get the scoop on the green-eyed hottie.”

  But one look at Eva’s face warned us that Daniel Hartman was the one thing she didn’t want to discuss.

  8 – LATISHA

  I quickly walked towards work as the first shreds of light dawned upon the city. It was 6 a.m. and the city was slowly stirring. I loved walking through it at this time; soft light and quiet whirs against the stark concrete.

  The vibration in my coat pocket startled me. As I read the name on caller I.D. a slow smile spread on my face. Just on time, like clockwork.

  It was my fiancé.

  “Goodmorning Jaan. Almost at work?” Vivek greeted me.

  “Hi, yup almost there. Are you back home?”

  “Yeah my flight got in late last night. I’m exhausted.”

  “Well you do travel a lot. I’m sure this much flight hopping can’t be relaxing.”

  “Work is work right?”

  “Right. But you should have slept in.”

  “And break our 6 a.m. phone tradition? Never!”

  My smile grew wider. Ever since I had started this round of rotations, Vivek had called me every morning at 6 a.m. because I was usually unavailable till nightfall once my shift started. I was worried about what would happen once my schedule got even crazier. We made small talk and exchanged weekend updates until I reached the hospital. “So are we still on for dinner tomorrow?”

  “Of course. I’ll pick you up?” he confirmed.

  “Sounds good. I’m here. I’ll speak to you later. Bye”

  “Love you Jaan.”

  A fuzzy feeling came over me as I hung up and put my phone away. Vivek had always called me Jaan, which meant life, since he’d seen it in some Indian movie when we were kids. He adored me, always had.

  Our relationship was easy. Living in the same neighbourhood; we had gone to the same schools and our parents were from the same Indian community. We had started dating once we hit our teenage years; a childhood companionship turning into an easy relationship encouraged by both families.

  Now he was my habit. And I was his. We weren’t the most expressive or romantic couple but there was a silent comfort between us. Over the years every decision I made concerning my life had been with our future in mind; whether it was about colleges, careers or even clothes. Being from a small, conservative community I was always careful to never act in a way that might upset or negatively reflect upon our families.

  As I closed my locker, I heard my attending call my name behind me. I turned around.

  “Morning Latisha. I have a task for you. We have a new transfer joining us today. His name is Chris Evans. After going through your patient rounds I’d like you to give him a quick tour this morning.”

  “Um…me?” I asked.

  “Will that be a problem?” he arched an eyebrow.

  I blushed. “No not at all. What time did you say he’d get in?”

  “He’ll be here by 8:30. I told him you’d meet him by the back entrance.”

  “Sure.” I quickly added, “I’ll be sure to be there.” Getting on Dr. Richards wrong side was not an option. Dr. Richards hadn’t been too pleased when I’d had requested a lighter rotation schedule and some extra time off around the wedding but had grudgingly adjusted for one, mainly due to the fact that he knew my father well. Turning him down on any sort of request was not an option.

  The next few hours flew by as they always do on a Monday morning. Rounds had to be made, charts had to be studied and complaints had to be sympathised with. Being a surgeon was my dream and one that I’d worked too hard for. Convincing Vivek and bringing his parents on board hadn’t been easy especially since it was such a long path, but with a little bit of time and a lot of patience, I had overcome that obstacle too.

  It was 8:45… Where was he?

  I paced back and forth. I was usually a patient person but I didn’t like people who were late when it came to work.

  “Can you tell me where I can find Dr. Richards?” a voice behind me asked.

  Dressed in a pair of ripped denims, leather jacket and a pair of aviators with a thick black tattoo creeping up his neck stood a model. This guy looked like he had just walked out of a magazine shoot. No way was this him.

  He had dirty blonde hair that was shaped in the tiniest faux hawk. As he took off his glasses, they revealed a set of golden hazel eyes. He looked like a fighter with his slight lip scar, calloused hands and a well-built muscular frame.

  He slowly walked towards me until I could smell the spicy cologne emanating from his skin.

  “Helllooo…Dr. Richards please?” he snapped his fingers in front of my nose. I snapped out of my daze.

  “Inside. Third floor. End of the hall. Right corner office.” I managed.

  “Thanks…” he looked down at my badge, “Dr. Choudhary.” I didn’t answer.

  He paused before he walked off “The name’s Chris by the way.”

  Chris. Chris. Why did that sound so familiar?

  Chris Evans!

  “You’re late,” I replied and I huffed passed him; the temporary fog lifting from my brain.

  He stopped mid step and cocked an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

  “It’s 8:45. You were supposed to meet me here at 8:30” I explained.

  “So you’re the welcome wagon? Or just the disciplinarian?”

  “I don’t like waiting.”

  “Car trouble,” he shrugged nonchalantly as if that made it ok.

  “Well let’s hope that’s not the excuse you use when a patient starts coding. Actually, I hope doesn’t happen either.” Despite his stunning looks he was quite arrogant. I knew the type. The bold tattoo on the side of his neck said enough. “Follow me.”

  I led him through a speedy tour of the hospital. The green walls and beige tiles had become second home to me and I was proud of it. Chris was a quick learner I noticed. And very friendly. Eyes followed us wherever we passed, especially female ones. Chris seemed to bask in the attention, smiling and shaking hands with everyone he met, already leaving a lasting impression on the people that he came across.

  “So that’s it,” I concluded as the tour ended. “Dr. Richards office is up there on the right as I mentioned before and he should be expecting you. Good luck” I turned to leave.

  “Hold up.” He walked around to face me. “Thanks. I know this probably isn’t part of your job description.”

  His gratitude caught me off guard and softened me up a little. Maybe he really was just having a rough morning. “You’re welcome. Just don’t be late again because most people here don’t see it favourably.”

  “Well maybe if I had a watch as nice as yours I wouldn’t be,” he teased, his eyes glancing towards my wrist.

  Excuse me?

  I didn’t know what to say. So I held on to whatever tolerance I could find within my system and walked off. I was usually a calm person but this Chris Evans had managed to rattle me right off the bat. Hopefully I wouldn’t have to work with him much. I should stay away from him before he started getting under my skin.

  That would definitely be a bad thing.

  9 – EVA

  As I sat by my desk tapping my feet in my bright purple suede pumps, memories of Sunday’s lunch flooded my mind. I mean to be honest, its not like I’d ever stopped thinking about it. Or Daniel Hartman.

  How was I supposed to know that I would h
ave to see him again after the run-in at the department store where he had been looking for a present for Noa too? How was I supposed to know that he was Becky’s neighbour and our parents were good friends? How was I supposed to know that two days later I’d still be thinking about him and would want to see him again?

  Whaat? Snap out of it Eva.

  I’d seen Daniel’s kind before. So maybe I’d snapped at him a little too harshly especially since he had been nothing but friendly at the Bat Mitzvah. And maybe he was good looking, smart and Jewish. But I’d been set up with a dozen of them. All it ever came down to was a struggle between my ambitions and mixed lifestyle versus their desire for a conservative baby-making machine.

  And they had never liked my bright coloured high heels either. ‘Frivolous expenses’ was the most commonly used dis. No one understood the difference a good pair of shoes could make to an outfit, a look or a mood. Like today when I’d wanted a lift after the weekend at home. As I gazed lovingly at my pumps, the phone on my desk buzzed.

  “Uh, you have a visitor,” the receptionist’s hesitant voice came through.

  I looked through my calendar. “I’m not expecting anyone right now. Who is it?”

  “It’s not a client. He says he’s a friend. It’s a Mr. Daniel Hartman.”

  I almost sputtered at my phone. What was He doing here? I could say I was busy…

  Curiosity combined with the desire unfurling in my gut got the better of me. “Show him in please.” I had about a few minutes till he made his way upstairs.

  I straightened my purple chiffon shirt and black pencil skirt. As I gazed around my small office I straightened out some files and cleared my table. I checked my face in my compact mirror and tucked back some loose curls that had fallen out of my bun and over my face. My hand stopped mid air as I caught my blue gaze in the mirror.

  What was I doing? Why was I so keen on creating a good impression?

  Before I could answer my own questions, there was a knock on the door. I shoved my compact into a drawer.

  “Come in,” I rose from my chair unsteadily.

  The door opened and the mere sight of him made me want to sit down again.

  He was impeccably dressed in an expensive dark suit, white shirt and red tie. As he walked towards the desk his smile lit up his face, reaching those deep emerald green eyes behind his glasses.

  “Have a seat,” I offered in a hoarse voice.

  “So this is where you work,” he observed. He sat down in the chair facing mine. I followed suit.

  “Seems like it. What brings you here?” I managed to stammer.

  “Straight to the point as always. No time for hello’s or how are you. Its one of the things I like about you Eva” he smiled.

  One of? Like? What else? I shook the silly thoughts out of my brain.

  “Well, I don’t like to waste time at work that’s all,” I defended.

  “I’m working on a case with one of the attorneys here. Just came to drop off some paperwork,” he explained, never taking his deep green gaze off mine as he toyed with the pens in my pen stand. I stilled his hand and felt a spark shoot through my skin.

  “Don’t you have messengers for that sort of thing?” I asked.

  His smile froze for a second. “Umm. Yeah of course. I…I was going to be in the area for a meeting anyways. And I wanted to check up on the work personally. And I like the walk.” he rambled.

  “Okk…” Why did he sound like he was hiding something?

  “Anyways just thought I’d drop in and say hi. Check out where you helped criminals find their way back to the streets,” he added cheekily.

  “I guess you’d prefer if I spent my life helping rich companies make millions more instead?” I snorted.

  “Why not?” He added softly, “at least you’d be in safer company.”

  His answer silenced the next comment I had prepared. What was it with this guy? I couldn’t remember the last time I’d met someone that seemed to have this kind of hold on me. Its like he twists my nerves and right when I’m about to snap, he says something totally unexpected and surprises me.

  Even on Sunday, he’d enjoyed teasing me about our run-in. And then just when I had been about to walk off, he’d asked me to dance. With our parents hanging onto every word, I hadn’t been able to refuse. Not that I had wanted to.

  And he danced as well as he looked. Smooth and comfortable in his own skin, it had actually been kind of fun. He’d come close enough for me to feel his presence, yet had maintained the proper distance for it to appear platonic and appropriate. After a couple of dances I had managed to mutter a weak excuse and re-join the girls but I hadn’t stopped thinking about him ever since.

  He seemed to read my thoughts and cleared his throat, “so Sunday was fun huh? Do you visit your parents often?”

  “Most holidays or family functions. Which I guess is too often,” I added with a smile. “With work and everything it got tougher living at home. Especially once my siblings started doubling and reproducing – very counterproductive.” I wrinkled my nose.

  “So you don’t like kids?”

  “No, I love kids. I adore each of the seven Goldstein munchkins and Noa’s my bubba,” I hastily explained. God, what was it about this man that made me want to impress him so badly? “It’s just tougher when you’re the odd one out. Literally.”

  His expression softened. “I know what you mean. But with my brothers living abroad I have to deal with it less.”

  “They don’t come back often?”

  “Nah, just a couple of times a year. So I try to see the folks every so often but my schedule often gets in the way. I’ve often told them to move in with me but they don’t want to leave their community, friends and Synagogue.”

  The air between us grew heavy with unspoken words of understanding. He stood up abruptly to leave.

  “Anyways I should be going.”

  I tried to hide the disappointment in my voice, “Right. The meeting.”

  “Right,” he said uncomfortably. He moved slowly towards the door and stopped at the frame.

  “By the way,” he half turned and started fingered a chip on the door frame.

  “Yeah?”

  “The other day. When I upset you. When I said it’s a pity about you not having kids. At the store…”

  I nodded, not knowing where this was going. His green gaze was fixated on mine.

  “All I meant was it’s a pity because I’m sure they would have been really cute if you did.”

  And with that he was gone, awakening feelings in his wake. Feelings that I had buried a long time ago.

  10 – AIMEE

  I retouched my lipstick and put on my scarf. I stood back to admire my reflection in the mirror. Bon.

  I was wearing a pair of dark green skinny jeans, a white shirt, my cropped black leather jacket, a bright purple woollen scarf and my comfy black leather boots. Perfect for a post work dinner date on a fall evening

  As I left the lab, a strong October wind blew through me and I stumbled back.

  “Woah there, don’t fly away now,” a hand steadied me.

  I looked up to find Ezra’s kind face smiling down at me, “Hey.”

  “Hi, how are you?” I gave him a soft peck on the cheek.

  “Good. It’s really great to finally see you,” he returned my kiss.

  “I’m sorry about last Friday. I was just about to leave but couldn’t leave Anya alone. And by the time the others arrived it was too late and we got distracted…” I apologised.

  “Don’t worry about it,” he comforted.

  “So you’re not upset?”

  He laughed. “Not at all. Your friend needed you. You’re here now. That’s all that matters. Shall we?” he started walking. I quickly fell in step next to him; filling him in on the weekend’s events.

  As we got to the little restaurant we settled into a small booth at the back. I was on the L-shaped vinyl sofa while Ezra sat on a chair facing me. I felt a twinge of disapp
ointment that he hadn’t opted for the space next to me. But then again Ezra had never been one for public displays of affection. Another major difference between us.

  I leaned back studying the man sitting with me as he ordered for us both. Ezra was of average height, build and looks. Curly brown hair framed his angular face and he had matching dark brown eyes. He was dressed in a grey suit and light pink shirt, which meant he had come straight from work. On his wrist he wore an expensive classic Rolex watch. He might not be the best-looking man around town, but he was certainly the kindest that I had dated.

  “So how’s Anya feeling now?” he asked.

  “Better. But you know her; she’ll wallow for a bit until she meets the next guy. Like they say, there’s no better way to get over a guy than to get under a new one!” I joked. Ezra pursed his lips at my distasteful comment. He took relationships very seriously.

  Ezra and I had met at a charity function for an organisation that endeavoured to supply basic medical necessities to war struck regions in Africa. I had been volunteering at the NGO since I was at Tufts. It had been a black tie event and Ezra had looked quite dashing in his tuxedo. There had been a date auction where several members working with the organisation had volunteered to participate.

  I had agreed to be auctioned off. Although there had been several suitors bidding for my attention, Ezra had won with the highest amount. Claiming me almost immediately, he had been quite attentive to me all evening, making it quite clear that I was not to dance with anyone else. It had been one of the qualities that had attracted me towards him. However things were so different now…

  “So how was your day?” he changed the topic.

  “Bon, and yours? How are things going at work?” I asked.

  “The usual” he shrugged. “How’s the new project developing?”

  “It’s going great actually. Which means work this week is going to be pretty hectic,” I started as I went on to describing the latest project I was working on. I worked as a geneticist and loved my job. It involved research into the Human Genome Project and the development of cutting edge pharmaceuticals that could help target genetic diseases.

 

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