by MJ Fields
I inwardly give lady logic the finger and carry on.
“Scotch!” I hear a woman’s voice from behind me, and Fraser gives the leash a little tug as he runs between my legs.
A loud whistle, and then he begins to pull a bit more forcefully.
“Come on, little fella,” I say as I try to untangle myself.
“Arf!” Fraser does some sort of figure eight between my legs, wrapping around me, as I try to manage the brake on the retractable leash.
“Um, Fraser.” I laugh when I realize just how quickly and completely I’m tied up. “Stay still, fur fella.”
“Scotch, sit!”
I freeze at the sound of the male voice, and the hair on the back of my neck stands at attention.
“Ms. Bloom?”
Sweet baby Jesus, why, why, why me?
I try to step out of the mess I’m in and, of course, I begin to sway.
Two firm hands grip my shoulders, steadying me, as I look down at my sandal and my boot.
Once steady but also lightheaded from the scent of whatever Dr. Nail-It-or-Screw-It is wearing, I bend to untangle my feet.
“Christ, would ye stop yer fussing before ye end up on yer arse again.” He squats down and unhooks Fraser’s leash.
“He’ll get away,” I gasp.
“Scotch, on yer arse,” he commands.
“His name is—” I stop when the dog sits perfectly still.
Dr. Stewart looks up as he continues unwinding the leash from between my legs. “His name is Scotch, Ms. Bloom.”
“I’m so sorry.” The woman with him, probably his wife, walks around from behind me.
“Take him home, Maryanne. I’ll be there in a few minutes,” he says curtly.
I scowl at him, and he rolls his eyes slightly and looks up at her. “Please.”
“Of course, Dr. Stewart.”
Well, not his wife.
Unless he makes her call him doctor.
Once the leash is untangled, he stands up, clicks the little brake on it, and it automatically winds up. Then he hands it to me, and I take it.
“Thanks for taking care of my dog.”
“How do I know he’s yours?”
He crosses his arms over his chest and quirks an eyebrow.
“Fine. Well, you may as well keep this.” I thrust the leash at him.
When he doesn’t take it, I turn and start back toward my house. I see the woman walk across the road then turn the corner, carrying my Fraser.
I look back. “Why are you in my neighborhood? Making house calls again?”
“We’re neighbors, Ms. Bloom.”
I nearly choke on my own saliva when I watch as Maryanne walks down the sidewalk to the Kingsley estate.
“Some neighborly advice, Dr. Stewart?”
He’s directly behind me now.
I look back. “Keep your dog on a leash.”
He begins crossing the street. “As ye just saw, he normally doesn’t require one. He kens his place when he’s with me.”
Oh.
No.
He …
Of course he did.
“As your friend, I say you two should just screw each other’s brains out and get it out of the way already.”
“Oh my God, Tonya, are you drunk?”
“I’ve had three glasses, so technically, no. But that’s not the point. I saw sparks at the coffee shop.”
“Three glasses, my ass.” I take my wine sippy and lean back on my couch.
“Fine, four. But keep in mind, I’m the logical one. I don’t just see sparks, Lizzie, and I not only saw them, I felt them. Do yourself a favor and just do it.”
“Four?”
She giggles. “Fine, five.”
I hear the doorbell ring in the background.
“You didn’t.”
“I have to go.”
“Dammit, Tonya, you had six! You drunk dialed —”
“If your house catches on fire, you can call me back tonight. If not—”
“Girl, go get yourself some. Nothing here is on fire.”
“Have you ever witnessed sparks jumping from one electrical line to the next?” she asks.
“What?” I laugh.
“I blame you and hot doc for my booty call tonight. The two of you are electric.”
“Goodnight.” I laugh.
“It’s about to become one,” she says as I hear her heels clicking across the floor, then she whispers, “Goodnight.”
Allowing myself no time to think about what could have been with my little Fraser, I bag up the impulsive purchases that I made for the pup, cringing at the fact that I spent a hundred dollars from my slush fund on items for the pup. None of which can be returned.
After packing up the leash, the baggie of dog treats, and food that the enthusiastic employee wearing the super cute kitty sweater at the pet store talked me into, both opened, the water and food dish and, to be neighborly, I grab a bottle of wine and head out the door.
The sun is setting behind the Kingsley estate, framing it like a picture, as I walk across the street toward the most majestic house in the neighborhood, holding my head high … while hobbling.
The closer I get, the less concerned I become with how this may be perceived. Sexy Scottish doctor, who’s seen my adult wand and me at my absolute worst, should intimidate the hell out of me, except he does the exact opposite. Neither his insane good looks, sexy accent, or street address make me feel less than. I feel like we’re on the same level due to his dirty little secret. Also, for some reason, this whole situation has given me a sense of confidence.
And tingles.
I set the bag and bottle of wine on the front steps, ring the doorbell, and then start back toward my house.
“Ms. Bloom.” I hear Maryanne call from behind me.
Lifting a hand, I wave without looking back. “Welcome to the neighborhood, Maryanne.”
“Thank you, dear!”
“You’re very welcome.”
“Shirley, I can assure you that I’m perfectly fine to wait tables.”
“That boot says otherwise.” She shakes her head as she looks over the schedule. “You’re on for a double today.”
“I can handle it.”
She releases a heavy sigh as I reach around her to grab a waist apron and tie it on.
“I did yoga yesterday for two hours, lady.” I smile. “This is going to be a walk in the park.”
From the kitchen, someone calls her name.
“It’s busy today. You’ll take the section four, closest to the kitchen.”
“I’m scheduled for the deck.”
“But—”
“Lucy’s seven months pregnant with twins.” I pop a kiss to her cheek. “I got this.”
The first hour of my shift, I eased into what became one of what seemed to be the busiest shifts since I began working here part-time in my senior year of high school. Did my ankle hurt? A little bit. But the tips I was raking in dulled the ache and made it all worth it.
They feel sorry for me.
Not a bad thing.
By the end of my first shift, I am a bit achier.
Sitting down for the first time in four hours, I lift my leg to set it on the empty chair next to me in Shirley’s office while grabbing a bottle of ibuprofen out of my bag and popping three pills.
Good to go for four to six more hours.
“You’re sore,” Shirley huffs as she walks into her office.
“I’m good.” I hold up three fingers. “Scout’s honor.”
“Were you ever a scout?”
“I was, actually.” I laugh. “And after tonight, I may not have to turn off my light and pretend not to be home when those cookie slingers knock at my door.” I pull a wad of cash out of my apron and wave it around. “I may be able to buy two boxes.”
Her scowl softens. “I’m proud of you, Elizabeth, and so happy for your next step.”
I laugh at the irony and lift my leg off the chair. “Back to work I go
.”
“I really think you should let me put you in four. There’s a party of twenty on the deck coming in.”
“Tip tallied in the bill?” I ask as I stand.
“Your health is more important than money,” she says sternly.
“And paying the ER visit, as well as the doctor visit, is part of staying healthy, mentally as well as physically.”
“Are you sure?”
“I certainly am.”
“All right,” she sighs. “If you need me—”
“I’ll just close my eyes and wish for my fairy god Shirley, and she’ll appear.”
She winks. “Like magic.”
I grin. “Just like magic.”
The Oasis
Ethan
Stepping out of my vehicle in the packed parking lot, I loosen my tie, pull it over my head, and toss it back in before shutting the door. Unbuttoning my shirt collar while hitting the lock on my key fob, I then walk toward the entrance of the restaurant that my colleagues chose for what I’ve learned is an informal monthly meeting.
I’m late. I hate being late. But today marked my last on-call shift in the ER that I took so that I could keep busy before the move.
I certainly didn’t want to be here before vacation then working full-time in my office at Providence Orthopedics’ new ambulatory facility, but Simon pushed me to rub elbows with the new coworkers.
Today would be the first time I met all nineteen doctors in a casual atmosphere. I’d met most of them at the center, but Simon’s correct, I should be here. However, I’m more interested to get a glimpse at the group dynamics than rubbing elbows or making friends.
Walking in, I am surprised at how casual the place appears on the inside. While waiting in line, I note the hostess is wearing an aqua-blue tee-shirt that dons The Oasis logo that’s on the building’s sign, a pair of khakis, and sandals. Those in line waiting to be seated are wearing much the same.
“You here to dine with the doctors?”
I look left and see a woman in her sixties with her white-blonde hair pinned up, she’s definitely spent too much time in the sun, her smile is genuine though.
“Indeed, I am.” I nod and wave a hand in front of me. “Overdressed?”
She shrugs, still smiling. “You look just fine to me. I’ll show you to them. No need to wait in line.”
I follow her through the packed restaurant to French doors leading out to the deck.
Over her shoulder, she tells me, “Best server and best seats in the house.”
“Don’t ye mean outside the house?” I ask, pulling my sunglasses off my head to cover my eyes, shielding them from the setting sun.
She laughs. “I suppose I do.”
Before even turning the corner, I hear a female voice.
“Well, the good doc didn’t have to nail it or screw it, so I’m sure I’m healing just fine.”
I hear the table roar in laughter.
She continues, “Let me grab you some more drinks, and I’ll be right back to take your orders.”
The voice should have given it away, but it’s not until she swings her braid around and our eyes meet, that it’s confirmed. Ms. Bloom is the server, yet I’m still a little surprised to see her.
And I don’t like what I see.
Grimacing as she takes her first step, I know she’s in pain.
“Lizzie dear, we have one more.”
“Thanks for seeing him out, Shirley.” She looks up from her tablet, and her smile falters, but she quickly recovers and gives me a disingenuous smile.
“Welcome to The Oasis. What can I get you to drink?”
It takes a moment too long to stow the instinctual lecture I’m preparing in my head to answer her question.
Shirley laughs, patting my shoulder. “Enjoy your dinner.” Then she walks away.
“Well, what will it be?”
Unable to hide my irritation, I whisper, “What the hell are ye doing here?”
She points at her shirt. “Well, it’s not Halloween, so—”
“Ye should be home with yer leg up.”
“I’ll get you a laxative.”
What the hell did she just say? I wonder as she begins to walk past me.
She slows at my side and whispers, “Maybe it will help rid you of the bug you seem to have up your ass.”
“We thought you were going to stand us up.” Dr. Sherman, neck and back, stands, grabbing my attention. “Come on and have a seat.”
Fighting the urge to throw Ms. Bloom over my shoulder and carry her ass back to Terrace Drive, I head to the table.
“Sorry I’m late.” I shake hands with Dr. Sherman and sit in the vacant chair next to his.
Dr. Hook, hip and knee, laughs. “Did you see the gluteus maximus on that waitress? Christ, what I wouldn’t give to be blue collar for just two hours.”
I glare at him, and he laughs like I’m trying to humor him. I’m not.
I look about the table to see if any of the female doctors from the surgical center where I will soon be working full-time, instead of the ER, are at the table, then around us to see who else in near proximity he could have offended.
“It’s just us boys,” Weiss, the hand and wrist specialist across the table, lifts his glass.
Hook grips my shoulder. “Four ex-wives have proven the theory.”
Dr. Sherman chuckles. “Can’t argue with it. He’s conducted a scientific study.”
“Women like that marry for love, until they realize we’re never home and then it’s all about the money. When it’s good though,” he winks. “They certainly know how to make you feel like the dominant species.”
I scrub my hand over my face, inhale a deep breath, sit back, and try to calm the fuck down.
Relax and enjoy, I remind myself as I look at the water and the setting sun.
“Since Ethan is pretty new to us, why not go around the table and introduce ourselves and our specialty?” Sherman suggests.
What the fuck is this? Team building shit? I sigh inwardly and nod as each man does as Sherman suggests, and then I suppose it’s my turn in this circle jerk.
“Dr. Ethan Stewart, sports medicine.”
“So, what does a sports medicine doctor in Scotland actually do?” Hook chuckles. “Travel with the Highland dance club in a kilt?” Everyone snickers, and he continues, “Olympic caber tossing team?”
“Nah.” I shrug. “Mostly fuck the wives of American tourists who are bored with their husbands.”
“Does insurance cover that in Scotland?” I look up to a familiar face.
Fuck, I think to myself when I realize Ms. Bloom was privy to my dig at the asshole next to me, yet probably hasn’t a clue it was in fact a dig.
The whole table erupts again as she sets drinks in front of us, laughing as well.
Accepting my defeat and deciding not to make this anymore uncomfortable than I must, I raise the glass that Ms. Bloom set in front of me. “To national health care.”
When the liquid hits my mouth, I nearly choke. My eyes fly up to meet Ms. Bloom’s, and I see her smirk. I force the entire contents down, accepting her juvenile challenge like a fucking frat boy.
She continues to smirk as she rounds the table and takes my empty glass. “Would you like another Manhattan?”
“Is dat what dat was?” I ask, trying to keep my cool.
She smirks, turning her back to the table, and whispers, “I asked for extra bitters. Suits your personality.”
“I’m good,” I sneer.
By the time dinner is served, I’ve had enough of the way they look at Ms. Bloom and am extremely annoyed that they don’t seem to take it easy on her, knowing she has an injury. Instead, they run her ragged. And the way they talk in front of her? Appalling. Then again, she’s giving just as good, if not better, than she’s being given. Annoying.
Three busboys bring out our entrees, and she takes each plate from them and places our meals before us.
When she sets mine down, I look at her
skeptically and she rolls her eyes.
Not completely trusting her, I take a small bite of my steak, finding it’s untampered with.
She looks at me out of the corner of her eye as she sets the seafood platter in front of one of my coworkers, clearly amused.
Throughout the meal, Ms. Bloom continues to entertain the whole group of men who have definitely drank too damn much.
After the table is cleared, she stands at the end farthest from me. “I’d ask if you gentlemen would like another drink, but at this point, I’m pretty sure none of you are really gentlemen.”
Everyone laughs. Everyone except me.
“How about you as dessert?” Hook asks in a tone that makes my skin crawl and fists clench.
Finally, having had enough of his shit, I snap, “I think dat’s enough.”
“She’s a grown woman. I’m pretty sure she’s fine with it.” Hook waves me off. “Lizzie, babe, I’d love to take a look at that fracture. Play doctor.”
Lizzie laughs. “I’m all set.”
“I think you might need a second”— he winks— “opinion. A new doctor maybe?”
“She’s mine,” I snap.
All eyes, including Ms. Bloom’s, swing to me, and I realize the way my words came out.
“No need for a second opinion. She’s my patient.”
Silence.
“Dessert anyone?” she asks.
Over half the table orders dessert, none of them needing it, and then Ms. Bloom heads inside as Shirley pours coffee all around. I slip out of my seat and head inside to find her.
Walking inside, I see her through the crowd and follow her. When she slides into the kitchen, I have to hold myself back from following her in. Pacing back and forth, I watch as she walks out and looks right at me.
“A moment, Ms. Bloom?”
“Is everything okay with your food?”
“Of course.” I reach for her elbow, and she steps back. “Ms. Bloom.”
She hobbles past me and out the front door, and like an idiot, I follow her outside and around the corner where she turns in place, hands on her hips, and immediately starts in.