Page 37 of Fractured

“Yes. I signed up a few months back. I like to go to the local ones, so I don’t have to pay to fly. Plus, this one’s in Washington DC, so there’ll be plenty to do before and after. There’s usually a group of folks that hit a club. I’m looking forward to it. I haven’t been dancing in a while.” As I finish my statement, I bite my lip. I barely got to dance at all last weekend before Jake and Mel’s dog knocked me over. To think, I was considering rewarding Murphy with a milk bone for giving Nick an excuse to dote on me. Now, not so much. But I guess it’s not the dog’s fault.

“Kat?”

“Oh, Justin, I’m sorry. What were you saying?”

“I just said maybe we could ride up there together.”

“Oh, that’s sweet. I’m actually going up a day early to do some sightseeing, but I’ll look for you at the conference. Maybe we can sit together.”

“Sure. I’d like that. See ya then if not before, okay?”

“Okay. See ya, Justin.” I wave and get back to my computer. Maybe I can run and get something to eat, and come back. I can’t remember the last time I got to get a meal while I was here.

Nick

Man, what a week. It’s been nonstop since Sunday. Luckily, I didn’t have to respond to any ER consults on Sunday, but when Gavin called to tell me Dad had fallen, I ended up in the ER for a whole different reason. Thank god he didn’t break his hip as I initially feared. He’d broken his pelvis, which, although terribly painful, doesn’t require surgery. He only needs pain medication and the use of a soft pillow shaped like a donut to take the pressure off of his pelvis when he sits.

There are times I forget how old my dad is, given how independent he’s remained. He’s pretty spry for seventy-seven, but that type of injury would be hard on anyone. I was so grateful Gavin happened to be there when the fall occurred. He said Dad just missed his footing and slipped. He seemed anxious about it on the phone since Dad wasn’t able to get himself up off of the ground. I’d called for an ambulance from my cell phone and met them in the emergency room.

Gavin appeared to hold his own that evening. I was proud of him. He did all of the right things and seemed to keep it together during an otherwise stressful event. He stayed with us in the ER and never asked to see if his mother could come and get him. While we were waiting for Dad’s x-rays to be read by the radiologist, I informed him I’d gotten his new phone put together but had run out so quickly once he called, I’d left it on the counter. He never indicated he was disappointed. There was nothing but gratitude in his facial expression. And the mystery over the item exchanged with the young teen in his neighborhood was at least partially solved. As he was waiting with me in the ER, the small slip of white paper fell out of his pocket, and I was able to read a single name on it before handing it back to him. He didn’t appear alarmed that I’d noticed it. It simply read, Poppy Danforth. Not sure why that name seems to ring a bell, but there was nothing to indicate anything untoward was going down. There was no dime bag or cash. Maybe he’s interested in someone new. In light of his care of my father, I’m not about to question this young man any further.

It was late when I took Gavin home Sunday night, close to eleven o’clock. He assured me he was usually up late, and his mother often wasn’t home anyway. This makes me sad. Thanking him again for his help, I shared how I was going to count on him to help with my dad now if he was still willing.

I was able to contact the office manager for my practice and take Monday and Tuesday off to stay with Dad but had to reschedule most of my clinic patients for later in the week. I’ve been bombarded playing catch-up ever since. But I remember things could be far worse.

The upside to this crazy week was the limited downtime I had to think about Kat. I didn’t receive any calls or texts throughout the week. There was a time or two I felt guilty about not reaching out, but I quickly focused on the very long to-do list in front of me and decided to give us a little more space. Truth be told, I hadn’t recovered from my panic attack on Sunday. I knew if I decided to pursue something with Katarina, I’d have to be all in. I’ve already developed pretty strong feelings for her, and if this were to continue, there’d be no turning back. I just hope I still have that option once I get my head out of my ass.

As I pick up my briefcase and head toward the door, Ava approaches.

“Hey, Dr. Barnes, there’s a patient of yours who’s on the way to the emergency room. I know you aren’t on call, but I wanted you to be aware. I’m sorry. I know you were probably going to check on your dad. It’s the lady you operated on with the collarbone fracture recently. She said the area has turned red and become swollen. I’m worried it may be infected.”

“Hell, if that’s the case, I’ll have to take her back to the OR. I was worried this could happen.” The patient is a pretty heavy smoker and has a history of diabetes, increasing her risk of infection. “Thanks for letting me know, Ava. I’ll head down there now.” As I change gears to head to the emergency room, I contact the OR on the way to ask if they’ll be able to add her on tonight or if she’ll have to wait until the morning.

As I turn the corner into the ER, hanging up my call, I absent-mindedly head for the hallway where Kat usually sits before I realize what I’ve done. The minute I turn the corner, my mouth goes dry at the sight of her. I have a flashback to the first time I encountered her sitting here. My heart rate speeds up, and I instantly know I’ve made a colossal mistake this week. She’s as gorgeous as ever in her black scrubs and white lab coat, hair twisted atop her head as only she can. I instantly want to go to her, hold her, get down on my knees and tell her what a dumbass I was for not calling. But instead, I blurt, “Hey.”

She swiftly turns to look at me as if she’s going to say hello, but her facial expression abruptly changes when she recognizes who’s speaking. Her eyes narrow as she glares at me and immediately clamps her mouth shut. I watch as she turns back to her computer and resumes typing.

“Kat I…”

“Don’t,” she states emphatically.

“Kat, please, I need to…”

She turns in my direction, cutting off my conversation with her angry stare. I wait for her to speak, but instead, she turns back to her computer as if I’m not there.

Walking closer to her now, I try to reach out to her. Whispering so I don’t garner any unwanted attention. “Kitten, I…”

“Don’t. You. Dare. Kitten. Me.” She says each word as if it is a dagger she’s jabbing into my chest.

“Jesus, Kat, please hear me out,” I plead.

She stands and looks directly at me. “I am working, Dr. Barnes. I suggest you do the same.” Coming closer, I can almost smell her coconut body wash. She quickly snaps her index finger in my direction, forcing me to take a step back. “And this, here,” she says, waving her finger back and forth between us, “is never going to happen, so let’s just keep it professional, okay?”

Before I can utter a word in response, she’s stormed past me. My heart feels like it’s in my throat. My pulse is racing, and I start to feel sick. I’m having a panic attack for a whole different reason now. What did I think would happen after not calling all week? She wasn’t a booty call. She’s so angry. And I did this. I hurt her. I’m sure she thinks I’m like all the other dickheads in her life.Maybe I am.

Chapter Twelve

Kat

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