The Procedure

by Tabatha Vargo

  His smirked instantly transformed, his brows pulling in, and a look of sorrow transformed his face.

  “It’s okay,” I said with a fake smile and an even bigger phony front. My hands fell into my lap, but I sat up a little bit taller and avoided his sympathy. “Trust me, I’d much rather enjoy my time alone than be here with one of the stuck-up ladies I’ve had some of the most unfortunate luck to meet.” With a genuine smile, I looked up at him, the sun warming my face.

  The sorrow dissolved and was replaced with another sweet smile. “On that I can agree.”

  We both laughed. Moving my hand to the menu, I fingered the corner of the leather-bound book.

  As much as I tried to tell myself that I was content having lunch by myself, I couldn’t deny that I enjoyed Roman’s company. He was easy to talk to and probably the first real friend I’d had in a while. He was handsome, yes, and though I’d embarrassed myself entertaining the idea of an affair with him, I told myself I needed him much more as a friend than anything else.

  I was in love with my husband, and the comfort of Roman’s arms in a one-night stand wasn’t going to change that. It also wasn’t fair to treat Roman that way after everything he was doing for me.

  “I don’t want to keep you,” I finally said. “You actually do have friends to get back to.” I hadn’t meant for it too sound so depressing. “That was meant to be a joke.”

  “Jerry seems to be a friend of your husband’s, as well.”

  “Michael can be very charming when he wants to be. He doesn’t have many enemies.”

  A strange expression moved across his face, one that tightened his lips and pulled at his brow. He looked like he wanted to say something, but he didn’t.

  “Do you mind if I join you?” he asked suddenly, pulling out his phone and moving his fingers over the screen.

  I was caught by surprise at his question, and it took me a minute to get my voice to work. “But what about—”

  “I just texted Jerry,” he said, holding his phone up for me to see. He smiled then, setting it on the table and leaning back in the chair. “Looks like you’re stuck with me now.”

  That wasn’t how I saw it, but I knew he was teasing me. Matching his smile, I leaned forward. “I could think of worse things.”

  His eyes roamed over my face quickly before he looked away. Every time he looked at me, I felt as if he were seeing someone that didn’t exist—a woman with much more to offer. I felt like he saw the woman I wanted to be, and I liked it.

  Lifting our menus, we skimmed our choices. As I looked over the many options, I couldn’t help but feel happy. Things were turning around for me. I was feeling better and looking better. Roman had done so much for me already, and we were just getting started.

  “Samantha?” Roman’s voice moved across the table and sent chills up my arms.

  When I glanced up, Roman was still looking at his menu, making me wonder if I’d actually heard him call my name. Then his eyes met mine.

  “Me.” He said the simple word. His voice deep and stern as if he was making an important point. “You have me. As a friend.”

  THE FOLLOWING DAY, Samantha entered my office looking like a new woman. It wasn’t just the new hairstyle, the way the light radiated off her blonde strands or the light makeup she’d applied—it was the way she carried herself.

  Her shoulders weren’t so tense. Her posture was better—her head held higher, and she was glowing. Her smile rivaled the sunlight that spilled through the windows of my office and, once again, I caught myself staring at her and getting caught up with how beautiful she was. It was as if she were realizing her beauty—blooming right in front of my eyes.

  Quickly, I rifled through some papers on my desk and cleared my throat. Anything I could do to keep my eyes off her.

  “I didn’t get a chance to ask you yesterday at lunch, but did you enjoy your time at the spa?” I asked. Then the memory of our entire conversation about the spa entered my mind. I felt myself flush, which was something I didn’t do often.

  Her tiny laugh was the cure for my embarrassment and the bad day I’d been having. The stress of my caseloads lifted from my chest, allowing me to breathe for the first time all day. Instead of stating the obvious, which was we’d already discussed the spa, she answered my question.

  “Very much so. I had no idea how badly I needed to relax. Thank you.”

  My grin matched hers. I felt stupid when I realized how big my smile was. “You’re very welcome.”

  If I had thought she was beautiful before, she was exquisite with a smile on her face. Her eyes sparkled when she looked at me and, briefly, I lost my next breath.

  I turned away and took my seat. “So, shall we move on to step three?” I asked.

  Again, she giggled. “Wait. There are steps now?” She ran her hands through her long waves like she knew it was getting my attention. It was then that I noticed her nails were painted a soft pink. Quickly, a flash of her pink-painted fingertips on my skin rushed through my mind before I shook it away. “What is this—Project Samantha?” she asked.

  A beautiful name for a stunning woman. I’d relished in the fact that we were on a first-name basis. It made doing something so personal with her less stressful. Getting beneath someone’s skin and finding out what makes them tick was very personal.

  “No. This is definitely not Project Samantha.” I couldn’t keep the smile out of my words. “Let’s just say this is a different kind of procedure. One that might be better than anything I can do with my scalpel.”

  “Okay then. Let’s proceed with the procedure,” she mocked.

  I liked this side of her—a playful side—one that didn’t look like she was seconds away from bawling her eyes out. I was seeing a different person already, and we’d only just begun. By the time I was done with her, Michael Aldridge would be eating out of her hand.

  “Alright then. Let’s get out of here. There’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

  Confusion filled her eyes, but she grabbed her purse and followed behind me as I moved to leave. Opening the door, I stepped to the side to let her go before me. The man in me looked down and watched her walk down the hall in front of me before the professional kicked in, and I forced myself to look away.

  The heat of Miami burned the side of my face when we exited the building. Squinting against the sun, I slid on my shades and pressed the unlock button on my keys. The lights flickered and a tiny beep sounded from my car, which I kept parked on the side of the building.

  “Yours?” she asked.

  “Mine,” I said, opening the passenger’s door for her.

  She smiled at me as if something as innocent as opening a car door for her had never happened. Again, hate for Michael Aldridge reared its ugly head.

  Once I got comfortable in the driver’s seat and cranked up the car, she latched her seat belt and turned to face me. Excitement filled her eyes, making her look younger than her thirty years. She was practically bouncing in her seat.

  “Where are we going?” she asked.

  Amused, I put the car in drive and pulled away from the parking space. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

  On the ride, she moved around anxiously in the passenger’s seat, pouting because I refused to tell her where we were going.

  She looked over at me, confused when we pulled up to St. Vincent’s Medical, the children’s hospital I spent a good bit of my time at.

  “No questions. Just go with it,” I reminded her.

  She grinned over at me and nodded her understanding. I could see the light of exhilaration in her eyes, and I was happy that I’d put it there.

  Parking in my spot, I put my car in neutral and pulled up the parking brake.

  “I never learned how to drive a stick shift,” she said as she watched me park the car.

  “Maybe that’s something you could add to your bucket list,” I said.

  She smiled. “I never thought to make a bucket list.” Turning to peek at me, she asked
, “Do you have one?”

  “Yes. You should start one.”

  “Maybe I will,” she said before climbing from my car and shutting the door behind her.

  The smell of her soft perfume wafted through and I breathed it in deeply before climbing from my car, as well.

  She walked a few steps behind me, following me towards the elevator. I didn’t like the fact that she felt the need to walk behind me rather than next to me. I knew some other men probably wouldn’t have noticed. It was obvious that Michael didn’t, but I did. She needed to learn to walk with me, not behind me. Hopefully, she would go home and do the same with Michael. If she viewed herself as his equal, then he would soon begin to see her as his equal, as well.

  Slowing my pace, we evened out, walking next to each other. She noticed and with hesitation, she looked over at me, a slight crease in her brow.

  “Are you embarrassed to be seen with me?” I teased.

  She frowned. “What?”

  “You walk behind me like you don’t want anyone to know we’re together.” Despite the seriousness of my question, I left my smile in place.

  She laughed. “Of course not. I just walk slowly. Michael is always telling me how sluggish I walk.” She made a sound that was meant to resemble a giggle. “But when I walk too fast, he wants to know what my hurry is. Men.” She shook her head.

  Her eyes were teasing when she grinned up at me, but I didn’t like that she categorized Michael’s insensitivity as a general trait we all had.

  When I wrapped my fingers around her arm, her soft skin was warm under my palm. We moved together, same pace, same path—equal.

  “You don’t walk too slowly or too fast, Samantha, and you deserve to stand next to the person you’re with without them leaving you behind.”

  We reached the elevator doors. I pushed the up button, and it lit up as we waited for the doors to open. She stood quietly beside me, our shoulders brushing against each other briefly, and I could feel her warmth. I stared at her reflection in the steel elevator doors until they opened, splitting our images apart.

  We stepped into the empty elevator, and I was quick to push the button before anyone could join us. I knew Samantha wasn’t finished with our conversation, and I wanted her to be able to say what she needed to say.

  The doors seemed to shut in super slow motion, but they closed before anyone could join us. I sighed in relief as I waited for Samantha to say something.

  “I always feel like I embarrass Michael because I don’t behave the way the others wives do. Michael’s never been the touchy-feely kind, but he used to hold my hand and wait for me. Somewhere along the line, that all stopped. I guess I wasn’t good enough anymore.”

  The elevator came to a halt and, whether I wanted them to or not, the doors opened. I moved between the doors, keeping them from closing, and looked Samantha in the face.

  “Not all men are like that, Samantha. I’m not like that. I want you next to me, not behind me. I’ll always wait for you, okay?”

  A slow smile stretched her lips. “Okay.”

  Smiling, I moved aside and she walked ahead of me, waiting until I walked with her toward the nurse’s station. We were on the seventh floor of the hospital—the burn unit.

  As always, there were four nurses at the front desk and each of them had their hands full. I knew most of them, and each one of them worked day and night to take care of the kids. The nurses were their hope, their strength, their laughter, and most importantly, the keepers of chocolate pudding and ice cream.

  I smiled at my favorite nurse, Linda, as I leaned on the counter and winked at her.

  “Dr. Blake, how nice to see you today. The kids are going to be very happy to see you,” she said as she pulled out three files and handed them over.

  “The feeling is utterly mutual,” I said as I flipped through the files and took in the information that the night nurses had penned in.

  “I think Tori asked me at least thirty times if you were coming in today. She’s excited for you to meet the newbie.” Linda raised her eyes at me and gave me the look.

  “What’s his name?”

  She laughed. “David. David Reynolds.” And then her expression shifted, and she looked sad. “After last night, I’m glad she met David today. That poor girl needed a good day.”

  “Thanks, Linda. I’m glad you were the one with her last night.” Leaning in close and looking around to make sure no one was in hearing distance, I whispered. “You know you’re our number one, right?”

  I smiled as a heated blush flushed the older woman’s cheeks. Picking up a few files on the counter, she pretended to busy herself with them.

  “I’m sure you say that to all the nurses, Dr. Roman.”

  I heard Samantha laugh next to me and couldn’t control my grin as I turned to face her. “Are you taking her side?” I teased her.

  She held her hands up in the air. “I’m merely an outsider, looking in.”

  “Uh-huh. Linda, this is Samantha Aldridge. Samantha, this is Linda. My favorite nurse.”

  Linda and Samantha both laughed, shaking hands. They began to talk while I looked over Tori’s file.

  Apparently, Tori had a rough night and needed extra pain medicine. It hurt my heart to read that part.

  I could feel Samantha’s stare on my profile as I read each file thoroughly. When I turned to face her, she was caught staring, and a sweet pink blush covered her cheeks. I loved that she even though she was a married woman, she still had enough innocence to blush. It was an extremely attractive trait.

  “Thanks, Linda,” I said when the women’s conversation came to halt. “Don’t tell them I’m here. I’d like to surprise them.”

  Turning away, I said, “Come on. There are some amazing people I want you to meet.” I headed down the hall to Tori’s room first.

  Her heels bumped softly against the carpeted hallway, and the soft smell of her perfume whispered across my cheek. I could feel her body heat on my side. She was that close. I liked it.

  I stopped suddenly at Tori’s door. Samantha wasn’t paying attention and walked into my side, igniting something searing inside of me.

  “Alright?” I asked.

  Shyly tucking a stray hair behind her ear, she smiled up at me and nodded. I longed to touch her hair the way she had. To run my fingers through her blonde strands of softness before bringing it to my nose and smelling the locks. Her shampoo smelled amazing. I’d gotten a few whiffs once when she adjusted the long strands beside me. It was an aphrodisiac.

  Again, I had to shake myself and adjust my way of thinking.

  Tori’s face lit up when I stepped through the door, and I couldn’t keep the cheek-splitting smile from my face. The young girl had become so special to me. Just seeing her made my day. It was even better on days when she smiled.

  “Dr. Roman!” she called out from her hospital bed.

  Her face was healing nicely, the burns still noticeable, but the new skin I’d grafted blending quite nicely. She would need more surgeries, but still, even with most of her face covered in burns, she was such a beautiful young girl.

  “Tori!” I called back, sounding as excited as she did. “How are you feeling today, love?” I asked, reaching out to ruffle the soft hair she’d grown back since the fire.

  “I’m okay,” she said. And then her face dropped, breaking my heart and making me feel as if my stomach had bottomed out.

  “Tell me. What is it?” I asked.

  “He never came.”

  He being her father, who had suddenly found it difficult to show up and visit his daughter. Her mother was here on a daily basis, but her father, I’d only seen him once or twice.

  “I’m sure he’s just busy, Tori,” I said, sorrow lacing my voice.

  Reaching in my pocket, I pulled out a new clamshell and sat it on her bed. Her downcast eyes brightened, and she smiled up at me.

  “You brought me another. Thank you so much, Dr. Roman.”

  She stood slowly from h
er bed and limped across the room to the table where all the seashells I’d brought her rested. She’d told me once in the beginning that she wanted to be beautiful like a mermaid. I’d told her she was already more beautiful than a mermaid and since then, I’d brought her a new seashell every time I visited her.

  I found myself on the beaches of Miami, searching the sand for an unbroken shell that was perfect enough for such a sweet little girl. I’d ruined two pairs of high-priced shoes in the search, but she was worth every cent I’d paid.

  On the way back to her bed, her eyes landed on Samantha, who was standing in the doorway. I watched as her self-confidence deflated, and she put her head down as if to cover her burn scars.

  “How rude of me. Tori, this is my very good friend, Samantha.” I motioned for Samantha to come into the room. “Samantha, meet Tori the mermaid, also known as one of my favorite patients.”

  Tori’s face lit up at my words, and she climbed back in her bed.

  Suddenly, I was worried that I’d overestimated Samantha. What if she was as low as the circles she ran in? What if she took one look at Tori and her burns, and her disgust showed on her face? I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to look at her again, much less help her, if she showed Tori anything less than the kindness she deserved.

  Samantha moved into the room, a light sheen to her eyes as if she were about to cry, and then she smiled. “Hello, Mermaid Tori. Am I to assume that your fins and tail only appear when you’re in the ocean?” she asked playfully

  Tori giggled loudly, sounding every bit the eight-year-old she was, and something inside me shifted. I moved to the side and watched as Samantha sat in the chair beside Tori’s bed, playing and laughing with her. Not once did her eyes betray her. Not once did I catch her looking overly long at Tori’s skin. It was as if she hadn’t seen her scars and burns at all, and I couldn’t help but appreciate her even more.

  When it was time to leave, she leaned in and hugged Tori. A smile tugged her lips as she bent and whispered something in Tori’s ear that made the little girl light up even more.

  “It was great meeting you, Tori. Try not to give the doc a hard time when I’m not around.” She smirked over at me.