Page 14 of Tempting the Doctor

“When was this?” I ask.

“It will be two weeks ago, Saturday. Poor Doc had to do the surgery in the middle of the night. You see, my father’s donor heart came from someone who had been killed in a car accident, bless their soul. Donor organs are only viable for a short time and—” Amy breaks off as she starts to cry.

“It’s okay. Please take your time,” I assure her. “I’m sure that was so difficult for you to experience. Your father is okay now, though?”

Amy sniffs a few times, then continues, “Yes, thanks to Dr. Miller, he is doing great so far. My dad had congestive heart failure. He’s had so many surgeries trying to buy time until he could get a donor heart. We waited almost ten years. I’m so thankful Dr. Miller was able to come in that night so we didn’t miss our chance. There aren’t many doctors around here who could have done that surgery successfully. I don’t think my dad would have trusted anyone else.”

“That’s amazing,” I tell her, though my mind is racing, and I’m barely able to listen. “And you called so I can quote you in the feature we’re writing on Dr. Miller?”

“Yes! Please, my dad wants people to know his story. He wants everyone to know that Dr. Miller didn’t give up on him. He promised almost a decade ago that he’d do everything he could to make sure my dad got to see me graduate, and he kept that promise. I’m graduating in three months, and thanks to Dr. Miller, my dad will be there,” she says, her voice thick with happy tears.

“I’m so happy for you, Amy. Thank you for sharing your story. I’ll make sure that everyone who reads this article knows what a wonderful man Dr. Miller is.”

We chat for a few more minutes, and I promise to send her a copy of the article when it’s finished. After I hang up, I sit at my desk, staring at the wall. The night Trey left me alone in his bed is the same night Amy’s father had his heart transplant.

I’d been hurt at waking up alone while Trey was saving someone’s life. Guilt swamped me. I’d given Trey such a hard time over it; I’d broken up with him after an amazing weekend getaway because I’d been afraid that he wouldn’t be able to balance a relationship with work. Had I let my fear overshadow the truth? Sure, he'd have to make tough calls, and saving someone’s life would—and should—always come first. But hadn’t he proven that he could make me a priority? He never failed to answer my texts, even during the work day when I knew he was busy, and he never missed calling me before going to bed each night.

The more I thought about it, the more a new fear settled over me. Trey had deserved a chance, and I hadn’t given him one. Instead, I’d thrown him away, breaking both our hearts in the process.

I look at the document on my computer screen where I’d started to write the article about Trey. I need to get back to work and finish this, so the world—or at least our subscribers—can see what an amazing man Trey is. Then, I’ll find Trey and beg him to tell me I’m not too late.

Chapter 12

Trey

I’d like to say that after Mandy said goodbye, I threw myself into work and forgot about her completely. That would only be a half-truth, though. I did drown myself in work, but it hasn’t done a thing to distract me from the ache in my chest. For the first three days, I was a bear to be around. My staff gave me a wide berth, and even my mom said she could tell something was wrong, though thankfully, she didn’t pry. By the fifth day, my sadness had turned to anger. How could she do this me? To us? I had done everything in my power to prove to her that I could make her a priority, and she still didn’t believe me.

Now, on the eighth day since I’d last seen Mandy, my anger has morphed into determination. Mandy is mine. Hadn’t I told her on our first night together that there was no going back, that once I had her, she’d be mine? Hadn’t she agreed? It seems she needs a reminder of the promise she made me.

I call my assistant, Sarah, into my office, telling her to bring my schedule and my contract with hospital with her. She rushes in, a look of trepidation on her face. I’m not the easiest boss on a good day, but her wariness makes it obvious just how horrible I’ve been acting lately.

Together, we review my contract and my schedule. I’ve been working far more hours and on-call weekends than my contract requires. In fact, I’ve accrued so much sick time and personal leave, I could easily take off the next six months if I wanted to. We draft new office hours and a letter informing the director of cardiology that I will no longer be available on weekends. The cardiology department is fully staffed with skilled doctors, many of whom I helped train. They can take their turns in the on-call rotation.

Sarah seems practically giddy when I tell her that she’ll have weekends off and my clinical hours will be cut, allowing her to be home in time for dinner with her husband and children. It hadn’t occurred to me how much my long days were impacting my staff. Even if Mandy doesn’t come around when I show her the changes I’ve made, it will be worth it for my employees to have a healthy work-life balance, something I’ve never given much thought to before.

As we’re wrapping up, I sense a presence in the hall outside my office. Looking up from my desk, I freeze in shock at the sight of Mandy standing in my doorway. My receptionist, Jane, hovers behind her, wringing her hands.

“I’m sorry, sir,” Jane says. “She just burst through the door. I couldn’t stop her.”

“It’s okay, Jane,” I tell her without taking my eyes off Mandy’s. “You can go back to your desk. Sarah, we can wrap this up later.”

Both women leave, and Mandy steps into my office, pulling the door shut behind her. It reminds me of how I’d barged into her office over a week ago, and I can’t help but smile at the memory. Mandy looks breathtakingly beautiful standing in front me of me. I get up and move around my desk quickly. I reach for her hands, and she doesn’t pull away, which I take as a good sign.

“Mandy,” I say, brushing my thumb across her wrist. I hear the slight intake of breath, and I can feel her pulse quicken. My own pulse races.

“Trey,” she says but then seems to falter. She takes a deep breath and starts again. “Trey, I’m so sorry. I’ve missed you so much, and I realize now how stupid I’ve been. You showed me so many times that you could make this work, and I let my fear get in the way.”

“Shh, sweetheart,” I tell her, placing a finger over her soft lips. “You were right.”

“What? No, I—”

“My work schedule would not have made a relationship sustainable. I’ve been working nearly seven days a week for years. I hardly ever take any time off; you would have grown to resent me in no time.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being focused on your career,” she says, and it’s so different from what she’d said the last time I saw her, I have to laugh.

“It is a problem when I allow it to consume me. But my career isn’t where my focus lies anymore, Mandy. I’ve been thinking about nothing but you for the last eight days.” I press my thumb into her wrist, feeling the hard, quick pulsing of her blood rushing through her veins. “Tell me you haven’t been thinking about me.”

She swallows hard. “I have been thinking about you,” she admits softly. “All the time.” Her eyes lock with mine, and they’re bright and shiny. “That’s why I’m here, Trey. I don’t want to just be thinking about you anymore. I want to be with you, whatever that looks like, whatever it takes. Please, tell me I’m not too late.”

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