Don’t Fall for the Doctor by Lacey Bolt

Chapter 9

Michael Tobers stood in front of her. Tall and imposing, as if he hadn’t spent the last several hours ignoring her.

Danica already left. She ran away as soon as the damage was done, as soon as she had delivered this self-centered spawn and his groupie.

“I’m Bill,” the groupie said. “Nice to meet you ladies. This is my friend, Michael. I see that you already knew his name, though.” Bill gestured to the magazine article lying in front of Ashley.

Heat rose on the back of Ashley’s neck and spilled over to her cheeks. The stupid magazine. Dr. Tobers would think she was obsessed with him. Never.

She snatched the magazine and rolled it up. She wasn’t on hospital grounds. She couldn’t get fired now. This pathetic weapon would make a nice thwack against his arm. Might even give him a paper cut. Teach him a lesson or two about how to treat other people.

Except the magazine flew out of her grip, leaving a sting of pain across the pad of her thumb. A thin line of blood oozed out. Emily held up the magazine, mouthed the word Sorry, then turned to the men.

“Hi, Bill, nice to meet you.” Her traitorous friend handed the magazine to Bill with her left hand, putting her fake engagement ring on full display.

“Is your friend always this quiet?” Bill gestured in Ashley’s direction.

“I could ask the same about yours.”

Ashley scowled and looked away. It was none of his business if she talked or not. They had no right to walk over to their table, interrupt their conversation, and expect them to roll out the red carpet at their arrival. Not even if Dr. Tobers looked even better in the dim lighting of the bar than under the harsh fluorescent lights of the clinic. Anyone looked better in bars. That’s why bar lighting existed.

A sharp throb spread on Ashley’s shin. A second throb followed. She snapped her head up and glared at Emily. Whose side was she on? She tried to kick Emily back but only kicked air where Emily’s leg should have been. Emily smiled and tilted her head, eyes wide open.

“Mind if we sit?” Without waiting for an answer, Bill fluidly moved to one of the two empty chairs at their table, leaving the one closest to Ashley for Michael.

Michael paused for a minute and glanced over his shoulder. It almost looked like he thought about leaving their table and walking away. He really was full of himself. She didn’t ask him to come to the same bar as her for happy hour. He didn’t have to get offended because they weren’t jumping for joy at his presence. He could at least tolerate talking with them for more than thirty seconds before looking like he stepped in something rotten. He should leave before she had the chance to tell him what she really thought.

Michael must have decided that he could tolerate joining them for a few minutes because he lowered himself into the chair closest to her, his face blank and cold. “Sorry if we are intruding. My friend doesn’t always realize when we aren’t welcome.” He looked at his large, expensive watch.

“Come on, Michael, we’ll only be a minute. Besides, why come to a bar if you don’t want to meet people, right?” Bill rested his gaze on Emily.

Emily shifted her body so that her chin rested on her left hand, showing off the fake engagement ring again. Bill’s grin wavered so quickly that Ashley wasn’t sure what she saw. She had to give him credit, though. He didn’t look like he had come to the table under threat of death.

“It’s not every day that we are graced with the presence of Dr. Sexy.” Emily looked at Bill but tilted her head towards Michael.

“You know our names, but we don’t know yours.”

Ashley fought the urge to roll her eyes. The entire conversation wouldn’t be necessary if Michael ever took the time to talk to people who weren’t at the top of the hospital’s social ladder.

“I’m Emily. This is Ashley.” Emily looked at her expectantly.

Ashley didn’t say anything. What could she say? Hello, I’m Ashley. I’m a janitor at the hospital and cleaned all your exam rooms today. We’ve worked in the same hospital since you were hired five months, two weeks, and four days ago. Sometimes I also clean your office at night. Except for the nights when you fall asleep on the couch. But you have no idea who I am. You ignore me unless you need something. Why would you care about someone like me?

The two men continued to stare at her. Of all the places they could have gone tonight, why did she and Emily come here? And why was that doctor sitting with her?

“Hi, nice to meet you, Ashley.” Her name rolled off his lips casually, with no sign of recognition.

Ashley forced a smile at Dr. Tobers. If she were a betting woman, she’d bet her next paycheck that he’d forget her name again by the time he left the table.

Emily turned to Michael. “I actually work in the same hospital as you. I’m a social worker.”

Michael nodded. “I thought you looked familiar.” He narrowed his eyes and scratched his jaw. His eyes lit up. “You work with the hospice patients, right? I actually have a patient on my schedule for tomorrow who’ll need a referral to you. Do you have a business card?”

Bill held up his hand in protest. “We’re off the clock, Michael.” He turned to Ashley. “Michael is one of the hardest working doctors you’ll meet. Do you work at the hospital too?”

“No.” The word flew out of her mouth, louder than she meant. The men and Emily stared at her. She reached for her napkin and ripped off a small piece. “I mean, I uh . . . I work in the hospital across town.” She tore off another small piece of napkin.

Emily shook her head slightly and mouthed something that was impossible to understand.

Bill leaned forward. “Which one? I’m at Sacred Heart Hospital, downtown.”

Ashley shook her head. “Not that one. I work at . . . um . . . Saint Peter’s hospital.”

“Isn’t that a few blocks away?” Bill furrowed his brow.

“Yes, but . . .” Ashley looked at Emily, who shrugged. “They have a small clinic across town.” She tore off a few more sections of the napkin, then glanced at Michael out of the corner of her eye.

His expression had changed. A tight smile spread across his face, and he ran his palms along his legs. Sweaty hands, awkward grin—was this what a nervous doctor looked like?

Somehow, seeing him nervous gave her strength. She looked up at Emily, who winked and angled her head towards Michael. The message couldn’t be clearer. Emily wanted her to flirt. Revenge sounded better.

She smiled as large as she could and leaned into Dr. Tobers but spoke loud enough for Emily and Michael to hear. “So, the article says you ‘are a heart doctor because you are interested in anything related to love.’ Is that true?”

Ashley felt a small twinge of victory as a muscle twinged in his jaw.

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “They just make up the details to sell more magazines.”

“Then I guess it’s not true that ‘he’s been single for seven months waiting for the right woman to steal his heart?’”

“That part is true!” Bill interjected before Michael had a chance. “Poor Michael here has been working too hard. He needs a woman to distract him.”

“What else did the article say? I remember now.” She raised her voice slightly and recited from memory. “ ‘He often stays awake at night, dreaming about finding his perfect match, someone who will watch romance movies with him and pass him tissues because he always cries during the—’ ”

“Enough with the article.” Michael moved to take the magazine off the table, but Emily beat him to it and placed the magazine in her purse. Michael narrowed his eyes at her, then must have decided that it wasn’t worth the battle of getting it back.

Michael crossed his arms and studied the table in front of him, like he expected everyone around him to entertain him while he sat, brooding over life.

Ashley exhaled quickly. “I guess some people have time for dating. I’m too busy. I have goals that do not involve getting married.”

Michael perked up and thumped his hand on the table like he had won a long debate. “Exactly. Bill, did you hear that?”

Bill shrugged. “I disagree. You can always find time for the person you love. Don’t you agree, Emily?”

Emily hesitated. “I don’t know.”

Ashley’s stomach sank. She only wanted to make Michael feel awkward, not Emily.

Bill shifted and pointed to her hand. “You’re engaged. You can’t tell me that you don’t think it’s important to have relationships.”

“Right. I am engaged.” Emily touched her fake engagement ring in a move that was visible to Ashley but probably too subtle for the men to notice. “But that doesn’t mean I agree. Ashley’s busy. She has other things to do with her time.”

Ashley mouthed a silent thank you to Emily and turned back to the men. Time for them to go. Her cousin had been through too much in the past few months and didn’t need random men bringing up all the unpleasant memories. “So, if you’ll excuse us—”

Bill’s jaw hung open. “You really don’t think love is more important than anything else?”

Emily tilted her head and pressed her lips, the way she did when she talked about her ex-fiancé. “Well, yes, but only if it is true love.”

Ashley jumped in. “What good is love if you don’t have a job? Money? A place to live? Survival is more important.”

“Love won’t change any of that, but at least you’ll have someone to go through the challenges together,” Bill countered.

Ashley stole a look at Emily’s pale face and made up her mind. She’d make some extra gooey brownies this weekend to eat while they watched movies. Neither of them needed a man to help them with challenges. They had each other.

“Maybe some people don’t need the distraction of a relationship.” Michael’s deep voice felt like a stab in the back. “I agree with Ashley.”

Ashley narrowed her eyes and looked directly at Michael. He didn’t break eye contact with her. He sat there like he did her a favor by agreeing. Her stomach churned. “I didn’t say that dating was a distraction. I would never insult someone by calling them a distraction.”

“You said that you were too busy to date. That’s the same thing.” Michael crossed his arms against his broad chest and tensed his jaw.

“It’s not the same thing.” She didn’t know how it was different, but she wouldn’t start agreeing with Michael. “I just have different priorities now.”

“So you aren’t open to dating right now?”

“Nope. Are you?” She pressed her lips firm.

“No.”

She raised her eyebrows and lifted her chin. “Then why were you in the magazine?”

He shifted in his chair and his left eyelid twitched. “I lost a bet to Bill.” He said the words quietly, under his breath, like he hoped she wouldn’t hear.

“What kind of bet?”

A flush rose up his neck, and he tugged at the collar of his shirt. “A stupid one.”

The corners of her mouth crept up. “What was it?” She leaned forward. He looked so awkward that a tiny chunk of ice melted off her heart.

He shook his head and exhaled loudly but then spoke in a quiet whisper. “If I tell you, do you promise not to tell anyone else?”

She nodded and bit her lip. He inched his chair closer to hers, and his leg brushed up against hers. Another sliver of ice chipped away from her heart. She moved her leg away. She wouldn’t fall for his charms.

“You have to promise.” He spoke to her like she was the only person in the room.

She nodded.

He glanced quickly at Bill and Emily, who were lost in their own conversation. “I lost a bet on the final score of a football game.”

Ashley groaned. Normal people watched football. She would not picture him relaxed on a couch like a regular person, watching football. “That’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

He inched closer like he wanted to confide his deepest secret. “Bill recorded the game earlier in the week. He knew the outcome. I didn’t realize that the bet was rigged until the damage was done.”

Ashley let out a short chuckle. “Well, now you are famous. You could date anyone you wanted.” Like any of the single women at the hospital.

“That’s the problem. I don’t want most women. I want someone who doesn’t care about my five minutes of fame that came with the magazine article. Someone who . . . well, never mind. I don’t have time to date.”

“I guess your job takes up most of your time.”

He sighed. “More than you’d imagine. I love my work, but it doesn’t leave too much time for anything else.”

She stared into his eyes—stormy grey with flecks of gold and brown. Deep, captivating eyes, capable of making her get lost for hours.

He cleared his throat and looked at her in a way that would make her toes curl if he’d been any other man. “Why are you too busy to date?”

She tore her eyes away from his. Her partly shredded napkin lay in front of her. She picked it up and started shredding it again. “I have better things to do.”

He leaned in closer. “There’s no one you want to date?”

She tore a small piece of napkin and placed it on the table before trusting her voice enough to respond. “No. I’m more interested in keeping my current job long enough to find a new apartment and get into graduate school. I’m going to be a social worker. Those are my priorities. I don’t care about anything else at the moment.”

He nodded slowly. “Social work . . .”

Ashley stared at her hands. She needed to keep her focus. The man next to her wasn’t a gorgeous guy who wanted to sweep her off her feet. He was a wolf in sheep’s clothing. He couldn’t complain to her boss and then chair her. Unless someone else complained to Gwen instead of him? She gritted her teeth. Even if he didn’t complain this time, he still ignored her at work and acted like the only people worth his time were other doctors or patients. It wouldn’t come as a surprise if he thought social workers were beneath him.

She wrapped her fingers around the napkin and crumpled it into a ball, her nails digging into her palms. “I know it isn’t as prestigious as being a cardiologist, but it’s a good job.”

He flinched. “I didn’t mean that. I take my job seriously, but I couldn’t do my work without the help of many other people. Nurses, pharmacists, scheduling staff, housekeeping . . .”

“Housekeeping? Really?” She glared at him as her shoulders tensed.

He nodded and glanced at Bill and Emily, who were deep in their own conversation. He looked back at Ashley, his gaze serious. “Really. I definitely depend on housekeeping.”

Ashley frowned. She didn’t want to play games. If he finally recognized her, then he should use his words instead of giving vague hints. If he was angry over the amount of time it took her to clean up his exam room this morning, then he could get up and walk away now. She didn’t need to waste any more time talking with him.

“You should go.”

His mouth dropped open. “I just meant—”

“I know exactly what you meant.”

He opened his mouth like he wanted to argue, then closed it. “Fine.” He nudged Bill and stood up. “Time to go.”

Bill glanced at Michael, then Ashley. He rose slowly from the table.

Michael looked at Ashley again, with an unreadable expression on his face. His eyes looked softer than before, and his forehead had creases. If he were a normal person, she’d say that he looked sad. But men like him weren’t capable of getting their feelings hurt. He finally turned and walked away.

Bill glanced at Michael’s retreating form and then back at the women. “Uh . . . nice meeting you both.” He turned and followed Michael.

Emily turned to Ashley and held out her hand. “Bill asked me to give this to you.”

She looked at the wrinkled napkin and saw black scribbles—a phone number written below Michael’s name.

He really took his wingman job seriously.

Ashley picked up the napkin and tore it into small pieces before looking back at Emily. “Let’s eat.”