Page 15 of Under Southern Stars
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Her voice has that charge nurse authority, but underneath…
Cameron’s face cycles through several expressions before landing on skeptical. “Really. The paramedic.”
“The paramedic has a name,” I say mildly. “And a reservation.”
“Since when—”
“Since now.” Sophia’s voice could cut glass. “Was there something medical you needed, Dr. Lee?”
Tasha chooses that moment to appear, because of course she does. I’ve handed off enough patients to her in fast track to know her timing is always impeccable—and usually unfortunate. “Did I just hear right? Mitchell’s got a date with the Kiwi?”
The look Sophia gives her could freeze hell, but before she can respond, my phone buzzes. Rodriguez, texting from the rig, wanting to know my status.
“I should go.” I touch Sophia’s hand where it still rests on my arm. “So, tonight? Giuseppe’s downtown?”
She hesitates, calculating. “Eight-thirty? I need to drop Madison at her friend’s house first.”
“Eight-thirty it is.” I squeeze her hand gently. “I’ll meet you there.”
“Meet me?” Her eyebrows raise slightly.
“Figured you’d want your own car.” I lower my voice, just for her. “In case you need an escape route.”
Something softens in her eyes. “Eight-thirty, then.”
Cameron makes a sound like he’s choking. Tasha’s mouth actually falls open.
“Italian sounds perfect.” Sophia’s voice is steady now, decided. “Giuseppe’s has that nice corner booth.”
“The one with the view.” I grab my coffee, grin at the audience. “See you tonight, Mitchell.”
As I head for the exit, I hear Tasha’s voice: “Did that really just happen?”
And Sophia’s response, dry as dust: “Don’t you have patients in fast track?”
Rodriguez is leaning against the rig when I get outside, grinning like a loon. “Friday night date with the ice queen. Better pray we don’t get held over.”
“Don’t even say it.” I climb into the passenger seat, reality setting in. “Christ. I’ve got an actual date tonight.”
“Better hope dispatch is quiet after seven.” He starts the engine. “Nothing worse than showing up late, covered in someone else’s blood.”
Eight-thirty. That gives me…I check my watch. Just over six hours to get through shift without a late call, get home, shower, find something decent to wear, and figure out how to turn a fake date into something real.
The tones drop. “Medic 402,” dispatch crackles. “Respond to…”
Back to work. But now I’ve got something to think about besides the next call. Something real.
Someone real.
The afternoon suddenly looks a lot more terrifying. And interesting.
CHAPTER NINE
SOPHIA
“Mom, seriously,whichfriend’s house am I going to again?” Madison scrolls through her phone from the passenger seat, sneakers propped against my dashboard despite my hundred warnings not to.
“Feet down,” I say automatically. “And it’s Chloe’s. The sleepover, remember? You’ve been planning this all week.”
