Irregular Heartbeat

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Irregular Heartbeat Page 5

by Chris Zett


  Just as she had made it past them, a couple of women carrying a pitcher of beer and several glasses appeared out of nowhere.

  Everything seemed to happen in slow motion: A hard shoulder stopped Emily in her tracks. Beer flew out of the pitcher in a golden arch.

  Emily jumped back and hit another body, solid as a rock.

  “Watch it!”

  “Are you blind?”

  Emily raised her hands, palms facing outward. “I’m so sorry.” She grabbed a few bills from her pocket and shoved them at one of the women to pay for the spilled beer.

  She had to get out. Fast.

  Before she could hide again, Jen grabbed her hand and yanked Emily over to them.

  “Are you okay?” Jen looked her up and down.

  Apart from a few drops of beer on her shirt, her dry tongue sticking to the roof of her mouth, and a racing heart, she was fine. Unable to speak, Emily nodded.

  Jen stepped to the side and gestured toward the woman she had been talking to. “Dee, this is the friend I told you about, Emily Barnes. Emily, this is Dee Dragon.”

  Emily forced herself to look up at Dee. Her gaze locked on hazel eyes that seemed as wide as her own.

  Jen’s voice dimmed to a distant murmur, and Emily’s vision blurred for a moment.

  She couldn’t speak; she couldn’t breathe. Don’t faint! She bit hard on the inside of her cheek, and the pain helped her to focus.

  This was literally the woman of her dreams. And she already knew her.

  Chapter 5

  Why now? Diana had managed to avoid revealing the person behind her stage name for all her years in the music business. Fuck. Now that her medical career depended on keeping it a secret, she was found out in her first month—and by her attending of all people!

  Diana needed a plan. Fast. Maybe Emily would help her?

  She took a deep breath and willed her voice to sound normal. “Hi, Emily, nice to meet you.” She tried to plead with her eyes. Was it really possible to communicate that way? Hopefully, Emily got the message.

  Emily swallowed several times. “Hi.” She was paler than ever and looked everywhere but at Diana.

  Why was she so anxious? Because her friend had dragged her to a lesbian club? Diana turned to Jen, who had asked something she hadn’t caught.

  Jen pointed to the bar and gave them a questioning look.

  Great idea. “Another beer, please.” She could use something stronger but needed to keep her wits together.

  Emily waited until her friend had been swallowed by the crowd around the bar. “Jen says you’re a rock star? How’s that possible? Are you even a real doctor?” Some color had returned to her cheeks as she progressed from shocked to accusatory.

  Diana winced. Had anyone heard her? She looked around for a reaction, but everyone seemed to mind their own business. She took a step closer and leaned in to speak directly into Emily’s ear. “Of course I am a doctor. Everything I’ve told you about my work history was the truth.” The accusation hurt, but her pride wasn’t important now. “I don’t know what Jen said, but yes, I was a drummer in a rock band.”

  Emily shook her head. “That’s just… I don’t know what to say.”

  “Please, don’t say anything. To anyone. I can give you a longer explanation, but not here.” She looked again in the direction of the bar. They still had time.

  Emily frowned. “Does anyone at the hospital know?”

  “I told the chief of staff everything at my interview, and he told me not to talk about it at work. Or anywhere. It’s actually in my contract that I can be fired immediately if I compromise the hospital’s reputation in any way.” Diana looked into Emily’s eyes. How could she convince her to keep quiet about it?

  “Jen is my best friend. If she finds out that I kept this from her, and she probably will, I’ll jeopardize our friendship.” Emily held her gaze now, and Diana could almost see the internal struggle as she weighed the pros and cons. “I don’t know if she told you, but she’s a music journalist. She’s after the story of Dee Dragon’s disappearance from the music scene.”

  Oh shit. A nosy journalist was the last thing she needed. “Please, I don’t want to mix my old life with my new one. If our co-workers knew, they would always judge me for what I was and not for what I actually do. And I don’t want the press to have an impact on my work at the hospital. Patients might not take me or our ED seriously anymore.”

  “I need to think about this for a minute, okay?” Emily closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. “I can’t lie to Jen if she asks me directly, but I won’t say anything right now.”

  “Fair enough. Thank you.” There must be a solution better than keeping secrets, but at least the immediate threat was banished. She couldn’t believe the coincidence. “Did you really see me at a beach party when we were both students? Or was that just a line Jen used to chat me up?”

  Emily blushed and avoided meeting Diana’s eyes. Her gaze finally settled on Diana’s left arm, and the tattoo burned as if the fire were real. “Yes, it’s true. I remember your tattoo. But I never saw your face at that party, so I didn’t recognize you at work.”

  Wow. Emily’s memory was excellent. Diana wasn’t sure she even remembered the party. Her college years were a blur of parties, music, and occasional frantic study sessions.

  “Hey, Jen, is this for me?” Emily looked over Diana’s shoulder and smiled. She grabbed the beer bottle, took a large swallow, and started to cough.

  Diana reached over to help her, slap her back or something, but Emily withdrew and shook her head.

  Jen seemed oblivious to the tension between them.

  Diana forced herself to focus on Jen’s tale about a funny incident at the bar and to keep her mind off Emily. She laughed at the right cues and kept the conversation going, jumping from one topic to the next, hoping to keep away from the music business.

  If Emily hadn’t told Diana about Jen’s profession, she would’ve interpreted her behavior as flirting. She paid rapt attention and played the enamored fan. Were these kinds of tactics even ethical for a journalist?

  Emily appeared to concentrate entirely on peeling the label from her bottle.

  “And what are you doing here today?” Jen used a pause in conversation to launch the questions Diana had anticipated. “I hope you’re playing. I would love to hear you play.” She touched Diana’s arm and smiled up at her.

  Diana lifted her beer to her mouth so that the lingering hand dropped away from her arm. “I’m actually playing in a bit. Friends of mine have lost their drummer for the evening and have asked me to help out. Their new album—”

  “Isn’t that a bother to come here for just one evening? Or are you living somewhere close? Are you working on a project here?” Jen interrupted before she could steer the conversation back to safer ground.

  Emily looked up, and her gaze seemed to bore into Diana.

  Did she regret her promise not to say anything? Diana put down her empty bottle on a table behind Jen to gain time. She willed her hands not to shake. “No, no project right now.” She took the cell phone from her jeans and checked the time. “Listen, it was nice meeting you both, but I have to go. We’ll play soon.” She risked one last glance at Emily. Was it safe to leave them alone to talk?

  Emily stood slightly behind Jen and answered the silent question with a nod. She would keep quiet—at least for now.

  Behind the small stage, Diana leaned her forehead against the cool brick wall and hit it several times with her palm. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

  Someone cradled her neck and rubbed it gently. She recognized the familiar calluses of a professional guitar player.

  “What’s wrong, Dee?” The soft voice belonged to Mel, her reason for being here today.

  Diana turned around. “I just met someone, a reporter. She asked too many nosy questions.” That covered
only half of the problem, but Diana didn’t want to get into it before the concert. Later she’d tell Mel all about the weird coincidence of meeting Emily.

  Mel frowned. “Nothing here indicates what you’re doing for a living. Nobody knows about,” she lowered her voice and looked around, “the hospital. I haven’t told the girls. They just know you’re an old friend and have nothing better to do this weekend than to rescue the poor drummer-less newcomers.”

  Diana snorted. “You’re hardly a newcomer. You’re what, five years older than me?” She hugged Mel. “But thanks for the support. I hate hiding who I am. I guess the closet must feel like this.”

  “So you finally get the complete lesbian experience. Congratulations. If this reporter comes back to bother you, point her out to me. I’ll find a way to keep her occupied, away from you.” She hugged Diana back and then stepped away from her and slapped her playfully on the shoulder. “Five years older? Do I look too old to play with the new kids?”

  “No, no, of course not.” Diana made a show of looking her up and down.

  Mel did look good, as if the fresh start with a new band had rejuvenated her. Or maybe the move back to the city where they’d spent their youth together. Even if the fine lines in her face hadn’t magically disappeared, her skin was smoother than it had been the last couple of years, only a shade lighter than her chestnut eyes that shone with enthusiasm.

  Diana laughed; she had missed the easy banter that came with belonging to a band, a group of friends. “Come on, kid. I’ll show you how to rock.”

  They made their way onto the stage, and Diana settled behind the drums. She put in the earplugs, stretched her arms a few times, and tested each part of her instrument with a flick of her drumsticks. The familiar routine settled her. She waited for the others to take their places and play a few test notes.

  Studying the audience, she wasn’t quite sure if she hoped or feared to see Emily. Stage lights flickered over the mass of women. And there she was, her turquoise shirt gleaming in the bright light. Emily looked sexy in the tight shirt and skinny jeans. Nothing like the prim and proper attending she knew at work. She smiled at something Jen said, and in that one unguarded moment, she transformed from a colleague into a woman. A beautiful woman who stirred something inside Diana. Stop it. She’s off-limits, and really what is it with the sudden attraction?

  Mel gave the signal, and Diana started to play. Loud, hard, steady. She closed her eyes. This was not a time to think, only to feel. Her head nodded; her hair fell over her face. She let her body take over, swinging with the rhythm, legs bouncing, her drumsticks a part of her arms like her hands. She felt more than heard her opening in the song and segued into her first solo of the evening. The music was all she had to care about now, and it was enough. It had always been enough, and for this evening it became the center of her world again.

  Emily studied Jen, who kept her gaze on the band. Maybe Jen would let the story go. Emily sighed. Not very likely. Jen would probably keep on hunting for clues and information until she discovered everything. She worried that keeping this secret could hurt their friendship. And what would such story do to the hospital’s reputation? Their ED would be a laughingstock. Emily’s stomach hurt as if the loud base beats were actual hits to her core. Her work meant everything to her. She’d always admired Dr. Wallace for keeping the house scandal-free, and the least she could do was to help keep Diana’s past under wraps.

  Between songs, as the singer told a winding story about the origin of the next one, Jen turned around and grinned broadly. “Isn’t that fucking fantastic? We met Dee Dragon, and she was really nice.” She groaned. “And really, really hot. Maybe I can sneak backstage.”

  Fucking fantastic. Sneak backstage. Really hot. That was not what Emily needed right now. “Maybe you should play it cool. Call her manager for an interview next week or so.”

  “No, I need to get to her right here. She is very private and never gives interviews. Do you think she liked me? I tried to flirt with her, but I didn’t get any vibes back.”

  “I don’t know. She was friendly, but flirting? I think she was just being polite.” Emily desperately tried to think of something that would distract Jen. “Do you want another drink?”

  “No. I’m good. Let’s get closer to the stage.” She took Emily’s hand and pulled her to the front, where a small crowd of fans gathered, complete with T-shirts with the band’s name and a cardboard sign saying, Sleep with me, Julie!

  As the guitar player strummed the opening chords of the next song, the fans screamed.

  Emily moved away from them, to Jen’s other side.

  More and more women pressed to the front of the stage as the band played on. And there in the back was Diana, or rather Dee, sitting behind the drum set and looking right at home. At the bar, Emily had tried to avoid staring, but the darkness protected her now. Dee’s shoulders were broader than the loose scrubs revealed at work, and the parts of the tattoo that wound around her biceps accentuated her muscular arms. The brown locks falling over her collarbones and the soft swell of her breasts provided a feminine contrast. Light and shadow played over the rippling muscles as Dee hit her drums. Sexy.

  Emily bit her lip. She shouldn’t think of her as sexy. Diana was her colleague, and they were in a mentoring relationship. But right now she was Dee, her drummer, the first woman Emily had ever felt a sexual stirring for.

  A painful twisting behind her sternum arrested her breath. The pounding of her pulse sounded unnaturally loud in her ears, drowning out the music. She shook her head, clenched her fists, and looked at Jen to anchor herself. Maybe she should leave.

  The tension in the crowd increased as the singer interacted with the fans. The hum of anticipation surrounded Emily like a swarm of buzzing insects.

  Dee looked into the audience as if searching for something or someone.

  One of the fangirls squealed. “Oooh, look at the hot drummer.”

  “Who is she looking for? Her girlfriend?” The other fan’s voice was painfully high.

  Emily dug a tissue out of her pants pocket and improvised a pair of earplugs. The fangirls annoyed her, but she asked herself the same question. Was Diana’s girlfriend in the audience? Or in the band? Did she even have one? What did she really know about Diana? Nothing. And now she was keeping her secrets.

  Jen took Emily’s hand and squeezed it. “Isn’t the atmosphere great? Better than sex.”

  Emily suppressed a groan. Sex. Not a word she should associate with Diana.

  When the music started again, Jen rose on her toes. She had really found the perfect job to pursue her enthusiasm for music. Maybe she’d find another story here and wouldn’t mind if Dee disappeared again after tonight. No, that was wishful thinking. Knowing Jen, she was far more likely to dig into Dee’s background until she got the full story.

  The smoky darkness should have hidden Emily, but Dee’s gaze seemed to be directly on her. She tried to close her eyes and to lose herself in her dancing as she always did, but she was too self-conscious. Images from that night on the beach flickered through her mind, the rhythmic movement of Diana’s whole body echoing the ecstatic drumming in front of the fire. When she looked at the stage again, Diana’s eyes were closed and her concentration seemed to be completely on the music. It was the same expression she had seen many times in the last few weeks at work.

  That was too much. Her private life and work had always been separate. The mingling of them was like a physical pain in her thorax. She had to get out of here.

  Emily pretended to check her phone. “I need to go. Got a call from work.” She had to shout directly into Jen’s ear.

  Jen only nodded and waved her off. She was used to Emily’s dedication to work and seldom questioned or delayed her. She might deliver one of her famous your-work-is-not-your-life speeches tomorrow.

  A text message woke Emily four hours later from an unea
sy sleep. She reached for her phone on the bedside table. She always kept it close in case the hospital called. Now it was just Jen, letting her know that she had talked her way into the backstage party. And if Emily interpreted the winking smiley and abbreviations correctly, she was about to spend the night with someone. Probably Dee.

  Emily tossed her phone back. Who cares? She punched her pillow, trying to find a comfortable position. Nothing worked. Frustrated, she threw it out of the bed and lay flat on her back. After a few minutes, she gave up the pretense of falling asleep again and stood up to get a glass of milk.

  On her way back from the kitchen, she detoured to the window to retrieve the pillow. The thousands of city lights were only a weak substitute for real stars. She couldn’t remember if she had ever taken the time to watch the night sky after that party on the beach. Life had flown by so fast, first college, then med school and her residency. Stargazing had never been on any curriculum. Now work left her with hardly any free time, and that was tightly scheduled. Sleeping, eating, and staying fit. The occasional extra hour with Jen or volunteer work. No vacation, no weekends at the beach or in the mountains. The only times she had been out of town had been for conferences, at sterile hotels without a trace of nature. She stood by the window, watching the flicker of the city lights until she was chilled and tired enough to return to sleep.

  The next text message from Jen arrived late in the morning. She planned to spend the day with her newest conquest and to return directly home from there to write her article. She called herself inspired, and the text was again full of winking smileys. Emily didn’t want to think about their meaning. She could vividly envision Jen in bed with Diana, and the image was like a slap in the face. But why? Jen was her best friend, and she had never been envious of her many affairs. No, this wasn’t about Jen. Diana… The visceral pain morphed into nausea. Jealousy, pure and simple. Nothing else explained her reaction. The rational part of her wanted to dispute that idea, but it was true. Diana was Dee, and Dee was the faceless drummer she had always kept as her secret deep inside her heart. It was a childish crush that belonged in the realm of fantasy. In reality she would never have an affair with a rock star. And the rock star would never be interested in a plain and boring workaholic. So Jen could have Dee, and she would keep the memory of the beach.

 

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