Page 14 of Cherish

I’m rewarded with a smile, her first since the day we bumped into each other. I walk over and plop the box on Alex’s desk. She surprises me when she doesn’t take the chocolate one that’s right on top. She looks around and takes the lemon poppy seed.

“Thanks, big bro,” Mellie says as she grabs the chocolate.

“Yeah, thanks. Nothing like processed flour. It’s not like I need any extra ass.” Ananda, despite her words, takes two muffins and walks back to her desk.

“So, Dr. Dupree,” Alex says. “Do you know Dr. John Doyle?”

Surprised by her question, I turn my head toward her. She picks a piece of muffin and sucks it from between her thumb and index finger.

“I do,” I say, watching as she continues to eat.

“He’s only twenty-five but in his last year of residency. He’s been described as a genius. Graduated from Columbia when he was just sixteen. Harvard Medical School.”

“Yes, I’m aware,” I retort, not sure where she’s going with this. “Is there a reason why I should be interested in Dr. Doyle’s biography?”

She puts the muffin down and locks her eyes with mine. “You missed my point. The point is,I’minterested in Dr. Doyle.” As if I didn’t hear, she says, “I’m interested.”

My phone buzzes again, and because I’ve been here longer than I intended, I look at the message. It’s from the same number as earlier.

I’m coming to Boston. I need to see you, JD. This is important.

I stare at the words, not the least bit surprised by her audacity, but still irritated by her. I look back at Alex, and she’s staring at the phone, craning her neck to get a look.

I put the phone in my pocket and clear my throat.

“Dr. Doyle. Got it. I don’t see him here, though,” I say, making a show at looking around the office. “But good for you. You two will be a great match.” I turn my back on her and walk out of the office. “I’ll see you at home, Mellie.” Without another look back, I leave the office, never intending to look back.

“Jase, the one bad thing about this is that it brought that bitch back into your life. I hate her. She better not bring her ass to Boston or I’m going to kick her bony butt all the way back to New Jersey!” Mellie follows her speech by slamming her palm on the kitchen table.

“She’s not coming here.”

“Don’t be too sure. That woman has a set of balls on her, I’ll give her that much. I’ve never met a more self-absorbed, narcissistic bitch before in my life.”

“Mellie, enough. I don’t want to talk about Natalie.” The truth is, I don’t want to deal with the guilt of what happened the last time I saw her. It was an impromptu weekend, put together by one of our mutual friends from high school. Dinner, drinks, and laughs were shared in a restaurant. When it was time to leave, Natalie was tipsy and asked for a ride home. I knew I shouldn’t have gone inside. I told myself I was doing the right thing by seeing her in safely. It was the same house that I was not allowed inside when we were teenagers. I should have resisted, but I didn’t.

“I don’t want to talk about women. What are you cooking?” I ask, changing the subject. I sniff the air. “And how come it’s not burning. Burnt food is your specialty.”

“Used to be my specialty. Fix yourself a drink and sit down. Forget Natalie. Now, Alex—”

“Nope,” I say, grabbing a bottled water. “Not going there. I don’t want to talk about her either. For a second, I thought there could be something, but she told me point-blank she’s interested in someone else. Someone I work with. I’m not about to become second choice again. I’m done. Fuck Natalie and fuck Alex, too.”

Mellie, for once, stays quiet, but I can tell from the look on her face, her silence is only temporary while she plots. When she pulls out a delicious looking baked chicken from the oven, I forget everything but the food in front of me.

She watches me as we eat, and I pretend not to notice. Still irritated from Alex’s brushoff earlier, and my inability to stop thinking about her, I try to put my focus on my food.

“You know what you need?” Mellie asks. “A housewarming party.” I open my mouth to tell her no, but she holds up her hand.

“You’re too busy. I know. I’ll plan everything. Just give me your credit card.”

“No.”

“Yes!” She practically yells, surprising me. “You have this amazing house, Jase. You’re a freakin’ doctor. And a landlord. At least you will be when people move in. You created this amazing life here with friends and colleagues, but you’re always working. Let’s plan a party and have a little fun.”

I take a deep breath.

“Fine, but I have two conditions. Our parents are not invited, and you don’t go crazy with my credit card.” I pull my wallet out and toss my American Express at her.

CHAPTER 8

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