Page 31 of Head Over Heels

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Florence

I knock on Josie's door, unsure of myself for the first time in a long time. When's the last time I felt anxious about seeing someone? When's the last time I cared what someone else thought?

The door opens.

"Hey, come on in," Josie says, heading back into the kitchen. "I hope you like eggplant lasagna." She sprinkles a layer of cheese on top and slides it into the oven. "About half an hour. Sit." She motions toward the table. "Marin fed you enough to tide you over, right?"

"Not for long. It was mostly rabbit food." I wait for her to sit down, but she turns back to the fridge and pulls out a bunch of asparagus.

"You could have just come over to my place. We could have ordered something." She doesn't need to go to this much trouble.

She looks up. "Mel, Renna, and Tilly are coming over for dinner. I suppose Marin didn't tell you that part, did she?"

"We need to discuss our situation. We need to do something public—as soon as possible."

"What did he do now?" She turns back to wash and chop the asparagus.

"Remember Jason? The one I'm flexible with for his family?"

"We saw them at Trattoría's on Friday. Of course."

"Woodhouse—the one who started all this—made a comment to him implying that he—Jason—is sleeping with me to curry favors." I bite my lip. "He implied that he—Woodhouse—was sleeping with me, too."

"Everyone's getting laid except me." She rolls her eyes. "Sorry. Not to make light of it." She sighs. "Obviously, none of that's true."

"My EA overheard the conversation. Both she and Jason reported it to HR, but even whispers like that can damage my reputation."

"And the hospital's." She nods. "It's too late for tonight, but we can do something tomorrow. I have labs until eight, but after. Do you have any ideas for something high-profile enough?"

I shake my head. "Not really. Late evening on a weeknight? Nothing comes to mind."

"We'll ask the others when they get here."

"We can't tell them." I frown. "The more people who know, the more likely—"

"Florence, stop." She straightens and looks at me. "I'm not lying to my friends." Her sigh is loud, frustrated. "They'll keep their mouths shut. I have to explain you anyway, and they'll be one hundred percent behind you once they know."

"I don't want—"

"Stop, Florence," she cuts me off. "These are my friends. I trust them. If they don't know, they'll ask too many questions and undermine everything. Stop being so Type A and get over yourself."

She shakes her head and turns back to the prep on the counter. "Renna and Tilly are younger. They'll probably have better ideas with the social media stuff than we would, anyway."

"Knock, knock." A tall redhead sticks her head inside. "Jos? It's just me." She closes the door behind her. "I brought some st—" She stops mid-sentence, frowning at me. Her eyes flick toward the kitchen, and she whistles in relief when she sees Josie. "Shit. I thought I was in the wrong place for a minute." She presses her free hand to her chest. "You scared the fuck out of me. Who are you?"

Josie bursts into laughter. "Tilly, meet Florence. Florence, Tilly. Doctor Gorden."

She shakes her head. "Just Tilly. I'm only a doctor at work. Here, it's just Tilly." She glances at Josie. "Who the hell is she? I didn't know we were having a party."

I stand. "I'm Florence Pietra, Dr. Gorden." I extend my hand.

She frowns, glances at Josie, shifts a six-pack to her other hand, and gives me a quick handshake. "Florence. Nice to meet you…?" There's a confused annoyance to her tone.

Josie takes the six-pack and sticks it in the fridge. "She's here for dinner. She's a friend of mine. I invited her, so be nice."

I raise an eyebrow at Josie. This woman does not fit the picture I had in my mind of her friends. I thought they would be less… mouthy.

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