“Okay?” he asks.
“I’ll stay at your place tonight. Thanks.”
Some of the tension leaves his shoulders. “Great.”
“Just for tonight, of course,” I clarify. I’ll feel stronger tomorrow. Strong enough to face my damp apartment and argue with my lazy landlord.
“Sure,” Drew agrees.
“You have to go back to your clinic now, right?”
He looks at his watch and grimaces. “Yeah, I should. Do you mind waiting for me here? Or I could drop you off at my place and come back?—”
“Oh, I’m fine to wait here. Thanks.” I’ve inconvenienced this man enough already.
He nods. “Did you bring a lunch?”
“Yeah.” Fortunately, I packed it last night and remembered to throw it in my bag this morning.
“Good. You should try to eat something, so you don’t faint again. And call me if you’re feeling sick, okay? The clinic’s just down the hall.”
I open my mouth to insist I’ll be fine, then hesitate. Why am I fighting this? He wants to look after me, and it’s actually kind of nice.
Maybe the fact that we’re faking a relationship has turned on his protective instincts, like some kind of placebo effect.
“Okay,” I agree. “Thanks, Drew.”
“Sure.”
After he disappears out the door, I realize I’m famished, and I demolish my turkey sandwich. When that’s done, I shoot off a text to my landlord to follow up about his plan to fix the water damage. Robbie doesn’t reply right away, but that’s no surprise.
I deal with my ruined shirt next. My left sleeve is ripped and bloody, so I find a pair of scissors in Drew’s desk drawer and cut both sleeves off at the elbow. It’s a bit ragged, but it’s definitely an improvement.
Now I have the rest of the afternoon to kill, so I log in to Netflix on my phone. I need something mindless, and I decide to try a new medical drama,Grace General.It’s pretty soapy—the call rooms see a lot of action—but it’s good entertainment.
Halfway through the second episode, there’s a knock at the door, and a young woman steps into the office. She’s dressed in scrubs and carrying a messenger bag.
“Hey. Ally, right? I’m Lucy Sun, one of the neurosurg residents. Dr. Malone sent me to see if you needed anything.”
“Oh. Uh, no, I’m good. Thanks.”
“He told me you’d probably say that.” Lucy smiles and takes the chair on the other side of the desk. “I’ve got Tylenol and Advil in my bag, and I’d be happy to do a coffee run if you want.”
“Oh. Thanks, but I’m really okay.”
Lucy nods. “Dr. Malone suggested I eat my lunch here, if you don’t mind.”
“He thought I needed a babysitter, huh?”
“Well, he didn’t put it quite like that,” Lucy says with a grin. “I can sit in the outer office, if you’d rather.”
“Oh, no, stay here,” I tell her. “I’d like the company.”
“Thanks.” She opens her bag and pulls out a bottle of water and a sandwich.
“So what year of residency are you in?” I ask.
Lucy swallows a bite of sandwich. “Fifth.”
