by Chris Zett
Emily groaned. “That’s the third one today. Was there a blog or TV show about it or something? That would explain why they’re all here instead of going to urgent care. Let’s tackle him together. I talk, you write, okay?”
No admonishment? No mini-lecture about successful doctor-patient communication? Maybe Emily was more shaken by the girl’s tears than she’d thought.
Diana led Emily to the patient. She watched as Emily used a combination of charm and authority to get the man to talk. After the exam, he was convinced he had only the flu, and somehow she had made him believe it had been his idea all along. Diana recognized the difference between her superficial smile and the one Emily had sent her way earlier. Diana finished the notes in record time and wrote the discharge slip that Emily signed without hesitation. They were out of there in under ten minutes, and Emily returned to her young patient.
A couple of hours later they had weathered the worst of the storm, and Diana used the calm to head for the staff lounge and the much-needed coffee.
Emily was sitting on the large, sagging couch. She had closed her eyes, laid her head on the backrest, and cradled a steaming mug in her hands.
Not wanting to disturb her rest, Diana tried to pour her coffee as inconspicuously as possible. But when she tiptoed past her, Emily opened her eyes.
“What a week.” Emily drank deeply from her tea and sighed.
“You can say that again.” She took a seat next to her and followed her example. Her neck and shoulders were stiff from too much bending over bedsides in uncomfortable positions. “I’m sorry I bothered you with that idiot. Maybe I was not diplomatic enough in the beginning.”
“Don’t worry. He just wanted to be right and important. You probably could have dressed Stacy from admission in a lab coat and told him she was the chief of staff, and he would have been content.”
They enjoyed their drinks in silence. Just sitting and sharing the break improved the day. In the last three days since their talk, they hadn’t had a minute at work to connect beyond the professional.
Emily placed her mug on the side table and fished a postcard from the pocket of her scrub shirt. She studied both sides carefully.
“Isn’t that one of Freddy’s invitations? For her concert on Thursday?” She’d seen enough of them in the last weeks to recognize it. A similar one rested on her kitchen counter at home.
Emily nodded. “The girl you saw me with, she’s a friend of Freddy’s, and when I treated her without registration or payment, Freddy insisted on giving me something in return. She’s offering to get me to the concert for free.”
“Aww. That’s cute.” Diana couldn’t help smiling.
“It really is. Don’t laugh.” With a mock-stern expression, Emily swatted Diana’s arm with the postcard.
“Hey, my coffee!” She hadn’t spilled it yet. To be on the safe side, she put it out of Emily’s reach on the table. “Do you plan on going?”
“I’m not sure yet.” Emily twirled the postcard between her fingers. “I’m afraid I’d stick out like a sore thumb. I’ll probably be the only person over twenty.”
“Not at all. Her band isn’t the only one playing that evening; it’s a sort of showcase for up-and-coming bands, and there’ll be tons of friends and family for each of them. You’d only need to stay for her gig in the beginning and could leave any time after that.”
“Mmh, maybe.” Emily stuffed the card back into her pocket. “Did she invite you too?”
“Yeah, as a thank-you for my help with her song arrangement. I promised to go.” Diana studied Emily, who still seemed unconvinced. “Why don’t we go together? I could pick you up.”
“Together? Like a…” Emily glanced around, even though they were alone in the staff lounge. “Like a date?” She whispered the last word. “I thought we’d talked about this.”
“I meant to go together as friends. You said we would try, and that could be the perfect opportunity. We both want to support Freddy.”
Emily played with a loose thread in the hem of her scrub shirt. She kept her gaze on it as if it were the most fascinating thread in the history of frayed cotton. “Okay.” The fiber tore with a snap. “But we’ll meet there.”
“Sure. Do you want me to find out what time Freddy will play?” Diana didn’t want to spend her evening off listening to half a dozen beginner bands, and she couldn’t imagine Emily wanting that either. “I can let you know a good time to meet.”
Emily nodded once, then stood. “I need to head back. A million more flu patients are waiting for us.”
Diana acknowledged the redirect back to work with a groan. “Doesn’t anyone just eat chicken soup and stay in bed anymore?”
Emily laughed at the exaggerated despair in Diana’s voice, winked, and left.
The good mood carried Diana through the next hours of tedious work. She saw Emily only twice more in passing, but the private smiles they shared were enough to sustain her.
Who would have thought a summer flu epidemic could be fun?
Thursday evening, Emily left work on time for once. She slung her bag over one shoulder and winced as the weight settled on her stiff muscles. She definitely needed time to prepare for tonight. All day she’d vacillated between apprehensive and anticipating, and the emotional whiplash had translated into physical tension.
After a relaxing bath, Emily’s muscles had loosened enough to avoid a headache. It took her longer than usual to tame her hair. She hesitated with the makeup. Diana had mentioned more than once that she didn’t need any. Emily snorted. Diana wouldn’t have said that if she knew just how many freckles waited underneath it. Going without makeup felt like leaving the house naked, but she would take her time to make it look as natural as possible.
Dressing was harder. She paced in front of her bed and stared at the clothes spread out on it. Boring, boring, boring.
Oh, stop it. You’re going to the concert to support Freddy. You shouldn’t care what Diana thinks about you. Friends, remember?
But the longer she looked at the mess, the less she was able to decide on an outfit. She took her phone and texted Jen.
Help. What to wear to a concert?
The answer came nearly immediately.
Classical concert? Rock? Jazz?
Emily was still thinking about the answer when two more texts came in rapid succession.
Date?????
Sexy resident?!? ;-)
If you looked at her texts, it was hard to believe that Jen wrote articles for a living. Emily composed her answer and nearly dropped the phone when it rang. Jen’s picture flashed on the screen. Great.
“Just a concert from a band. Rock, I think. What should I wear? I’m out of practice.” Emily hoped if she focused on the problem at hand, Jen would be distracted from the other questions.
“You’re going on a date? It’s your sexy resident you told me about, right? Congratulations!”
Emily sighed. Keeping secrets from Jen was next to impossible. “I never said she was sexy. And it’s not a date; we explicitly talked about going there as friends.”
“Oh, sure. You don’t need help dressing for a simple outing with a friend.”
“Yes, I’m nervous. Are you happy now?” Emily flopped down on the bed, ignoring the pile of rejected clothes.
“Yep. Thanks. I’m happy.” Jen’s voice softened. “No need to be nervous. You had a nice evening out on Saturday, so you’ll have fun tonight. Why don’t you go a little bit earlier and work off that nervous energy on the dance floor?”
“Maybe.” She stood again and resumed pacing. “So, what do I wear? Everything looks dull.”
Jen chuckled. “Your new black jeans are far from dull. Remember how the guy in the shop couldn’t stop staring at your ass?”
Emily reached into the closet and stroked the soft cotton. “No. They’re too—”
“Too sexy?” Jen interrupted her. “Isn’t that what you want?”
“No. Maybe. I don’t know.”
“You’ll feel confident if you look good. You don’t have to fling yourself at her.”
She put the phone on speaker to squeeze herself into the tight jeans. “I hope you’re right. What else?”
“Combine it with one of the nicer short-sleeved blouses you own. Maybe the olive one? Trust me.”
“Okay. Wait a second.” Emily dressed in the blouse Jen had suggested. Looking at herself in the mirror, she picked up the phone again. Jen had been right. “Sexy, but still classy. Thanks.”
“Can you send me a picture of you two?”
Emily groaned. “I’m hanging up now before you come up with more bad ideas.” Like wanting to meet her. That would be a disaster.
Jen laughed. “Bye.”
Emily stayed in front of the mirror and closed another button at the top. Her confidence waned as she looked at her reflection, but the alarm on her phone saved her from another change. Time to go.
Diana was running late. A patient throwing up on her had derailed her plans to leave work on time. She had only a couple of minutes at home before her date with Emily. Or rather non-date.
She grabbed her favorite top from the stack of similar black neck halter tops and threaded a black leather belt in the low-slung blue jeans. A fleeting glance in the mirror confirmed that her top was tucked in wrinkle-free, and she bent down to zip her black boots. She hesitated when she glimpsed the head of the large dragon on her shoulder and the fire circling her left biceps. Would it and what it stood for overwhelm Emily? Her past was an obstacle that still loomed between them, and she didn’t want to remind Emily of it at first sight.
She opened her closet again and critically examined the other clothes. A thin gray silk shirt with long sleeves wasn’t special or sexy, but it was unobtrusive. She put it on and left without another look in the mirror.
Diana greeted Tom, the bouncer at the club’s main entrance, with a hug. He waved away her attempt to pay. She left her jacket at the cloak check and entered the main room with a bar at one end and a small stage on the other side that held a few instruments. A quick survey of the room showed no friends or acquaintances. Good. Diana wanted to spend her evening with Emily and not rehashing her old life. But where was she? The concert hadn’t begun yet, and the middle of the room was teeming with people in little groups, drinking and talking. At the front, others were dancing to the rock song that blasted from floor-to-ceiling speakers.
The dim light hid details, but one of the dancers reminded her of Emily. She nearly dismissed the resemblance because the woman’s long, brown hair was flowing unrestricted over her shoulders. Diana had never seen Emily without a bun or at least a ponytail. Even though it probably wasn’t Emily, something compelled Diana to take a closer look, and she made her way through the crowd.
The woman danced with her back to Diana, apparently alone. Her hips swayed in sync to the beat, and the perfectly rounded backside in tight black jeans mesmerized Diana. As she turned gracefully, Diana gasped. It was indeed Emily who had captured her attention. Her eyes were closed, and she’d lifted her face up as if she were basking in rays of sunshine instead of flickering spotlights. She seemed completely immersed in the music. Her expression was unlike anything Diana had seen on her before, almost blissful.
Wow. Feelings that decidedly breached the boundaries of friendship rose in her and took Diana’s breath away. No, no. Don’t. She shook her head as if she could dislodge the arousal like that. You offered friendship, nothing more. But friends can dance together, right?
Without examining her intentions, Diana started to dance. She let the music take over. It had been a while since she had last been to a club without having to work, just to enjoy herself.
Even though Diana had been careful not to intrude into Emily’s personal space, it didn’t take long until Emily noticed her. Her steps faltered, and she blushed.
“Hi.” Diana had to raise her voice as the song increased in volume. “Sorry, I didn’t want to interrupt you.”
“Hi. I was early and…” She gestured to the other dancers. “Better than just standing around.”
“Definitely.” Diana leaned in to speak directly into her ear. “Do you want to drink something or dance some more?”
“Dance.” Emily’s reply was immediate and decisive.
A subtle shift went through Emily, something Diana couldn’t put her finger on. This time they danced together instead of next to each other.
Emily was a good dancer, and soon they moved closer without restricting each other. More and more people crowded around them, and she was pushed into Emily.
She reached for Emily’s hip to steady herself. To her surprise, Emily didn’t shy away from the touch but kept on moving in sync and close enough that Diana could breathe in her fresh herbal scent mixed with powdery makeup. Diana closed her eyes. The fabric of her jeans was warm and soft under Diana’s fingers, and she used all her self-control to stop herself from exploring further.
When Emily was jostled from behind, she stumbled and ended with her right leg between Diana’s thighs. Definitely not where a friend’s leg should ever be.
Arousal struck Diana like lightning and knocked her out of the motion.
Breathing heavily, neither of them moved for a moment.
Slowly, Diana trailed her hand from Emily’s hip to her back. She let it rest in the hollow where the jeans ended and the blouse was tucked in.
Emily answered her unspoken invitation by putting one arm around Diana’s neck and starting to dance again.
Repeatedly their fronts brushed against each other as Emily’s leg stayed where it was, and Diana tingled all over. She had to look at Emily.
Light and shadows chased rhythmically over Emily’s features. Her eyes were closed, and the blissful smile had returned.
Diana closed her eyes too and gave herself over to the music and the sensations running through her body. Every contact with Emily made her skin long for fewer clothes. Heat spread from her middle and ran through her extremities.
Hours, or probably only minutes, later the music stopped. She stood disoriented in the stream of people surrounding them; her only anchor was Emily.
She met Emily’s gaze. Her gray eyes were unusually warm and dark like the midnight sea, and Diana could willingly drown in them. Following the siren’s call, she couldn’t resist leaning closer until their breaths mingled. Her heartbeat soared in anticipation.
Emily sighed, and the warm air caressed Diana’s lips.
Bright lights and thunder-like drums jolted her out of the spell. They both tensed and drew back at the same time, staring at each other.
Diana struggled to calm her breathing and looked at Emily.
Her chest moved as fast as her own, so Diana clearly wasn’t the only one affected by that near kiss.
She quickly removed her hands and opened a few more buttons of her shirt to move it away from her sticky skin. It only helped a little, as most of the heat stemmed from a fire burning low in her middle and couldn’t be doused by fresh air. How had her good intentions vanished so quickly? She hadn’t behaved like a friend who respected boundaries. Should she apologize? No. It wasn’t as if she had thrown herself at Emily. Whatever had happened between them had been mutual. She glanced at Emily from the corner of her eye to gauge her reaction.
Emily had turned to face the stage and stood next to Diana without touching her. Biting her lower lip, Emily absentmindedly traced a bead of sweat with her finger down her neckline.
A new wave of heat spread through Diana, and she tore her gaze back to the stage before she would evaporate in a burst of steam. She fanned herself with her shirt again.
“Take your shirt off. You must be melting.” Emily spoke directly into her ear. The proximity didn’t he
lp.
Diana had half taken off her shirt when she remembered the reason for wearing it in the first place. “Some people might recognize my tattoos. Do you mind?”
Emily shook her head. “No, it’s not like we’re at work. Your tattoos are part of you. And they do look great.”
Huh. The thought that Emily might actually like her tattoos had never crossed Diana’s mind. The idea was exciting; she’d expected them to be an obstacle between them. After taking off the shirt, she knotted it around her hips.
All around them people moved to the beat of the band and looked at the stage. Emily was jostled half in front of her. Diana’s world shrunk and concentrated on the small square they occupied together, like a rock in the sea. The others flowed around them as Emily lightly leaned her back against Diana’s front.
Diana breathed in more of the tantalizing scent and stuck her hands into the pockets of her jeans to keep them from temptation. Concentrate on the music. This is neither the right time nor place to take it further.
Only she wasn’t able to immerse herself fully in the show. Even her evaluation of the band mirrored her blossoming feelings for Emily. A few false beats and chords were indicators that they were relatively new; some transitions were fumbled, but all in all she liked it.
Freddy and her band ran out of songs to play all too soon. The lights flared on as the music stopped. Emily blinked a few times against the brightness. Around them people moved again, to the exit, to the bar, to meet with friends, taking with them Emily’s excuse to stand so close to Diana. The loss of contact jolted her brain back to life. What have you done?
She turned, unsure what would happen next. Her behavior during the dance and the concert must have confused Diana. Hell, it had confused her too. She was sending out mixed signals left and right and had no idea how to rein herself in. Since the day they met, something in Diana had provoked her to act impulsively. And the worst part was that she was enjoying herself against her better judgment.