“Gavin’s not going to September-giving, is he?” Kaylin asked.
“I don’t think so. He has a club opening to promote. He’s been better,” Natalie answered. “I know he’s seemed like a nightmare a few times…”
“A few? That’s an understatement.”
“Anyway,” Natalie continued, “who were the roses from? Don’t keep a girl waiting.”
“I don’t know,” Kaylin replied. She chewed her lip, not wanting to worry her. “Looks like I do have a secret admirer.”
“Well, not a very good one,” Natalie said. Once he reveals himself, tell him he should have consulted me first, and I’d have told him your favorite flowers are irises.”
“Not just any iris,” Kaylin said. “ThePrincess Leiairis.”
“I’m still not convinced that’s a real thing,” Natalie said.
“It totally is! Look it up.”
“Maybe later.” Natalie waved her phone. “Thanks for the car tip. Gotta run.”
“Drinks tomorrow?” Kaylin asked.
“Crap. I forgot Gavin wants me to come with him to this thing with his investors. Some kind of cocktail schmoozing event. I know, I’m lame.”
“It’s okay,” Kaylin said. “Go make Gavin look good.”
Natalie waved and jogged down the hallway.
“Lord knows, he can’t do it himself,” Kaylin said, heading to see her next patient. Gavin may be handsome in a tailored-suit kind of way, but Kaylin was no Gavin fan. She’d rather be single than have a man who treated her like he treated Natalie. She wished she could advise Natalie to just end things with him without being too nosey, but what could she do? Kaylin took the stairs to the second floor, where a patient in need of a prosthetic foot waited.
“Didn’t you just finish rounds?” Another surgeon, Dr. Warren, passed her on the stairs. He’d been one of her mentors during residency.
“Just checking back on a patient,” Kaylin said.
“Dr. Lawrence,” he said. “We’ve talked about you giving too much of yourself. Isn’t this your lunch hour?”
“I know,” Kaylin said. “I’ve got a lawyer friend who made an insurance company pay for a prosthetic hand once. I’m just passing along the number.”
“You have a good heart,” Dr. Warren said.
“Just doing what I can.”
Growing up, Kaylin had never been good at any sport. She’d always preferred playing video games and reading comic books to physical exercise. The superheroes she’d grown up worshipping in these comics and television shows had always been athletic and fit. They had to be to rescue people the way they did. Kaylin knew she’d never pull a kid from a burning building, but she could treat the burns.
3
Paranoia
The sun set earliereach day as Brooklyn transitioned from late summer to early fall. Kaylin snaked her bike through traffic, sidewalk signs, and trees, finally turning into the quieter neighborhood where her condo building and cat waited. A black car turned behind her onto the block and Kaylin waited for it to pass before she crossed the street at the light. She pedaled past her favorite coffee shop and slowed; she could really use a chocolate scone after the day she’d had.
She parked her bike and went in, ordering an iced mocha—her favorite—and a pastry. She sat on a stool by the window and bit into the scone, letting crumbs fall onto the white doily the baristas always placed on the vintage china plates. Leaves that had blown off the trees swept down the empty street. The black car drove past. Kaylin stared after it, dismissing her concern as paranoia. There were lots of black Escalades in the city; seeing one twice didn’t mean anything. It could have been lost, picking someone up, or a different car entirely. She was really letting this secret admirer thing get into her head.
She returned her plate to the bus bin and tucked her drink in the wicker basket she’d clipped to the front of her road bike. In the spring and summer, she liked to bike to the farmers markets and tuck stems of irises, tulips, or sunflowers into the basket and pedal home, pretending to be a posh model in a clothing catalog.
She turned onto her street and heard it before she saw it—the black Escalade trailing behind her. She slowed, hoping it would pass her up. Instead, it slowed too, matching pace with her bike but keeping behind, just out of sight. She glanced over her shoulder, trying to make out who the driver was, but the windows were too dark and reflected the buildings and street signs with the last light of the sun. Kaylin sped up and jumped off her bike at her stop, dropping her keys as she struggled to throw open her door and ran inside.
She slammed the door shut, locked it, and slumped to the floor. Her heart pounded as fear gripped her body. She hated being afraid. She hated whoever was doing this to her. She dug out the private security guy’s number—Rusty—and dialed.
4
