“I know,” I promise. “I'm just working through it.”
“Well, I'm taking you to lunch tomorrow,” she grins. “A real lunch, not this sad sandwich situation. And I have a surprise for you.”
“I don't need surprises.”
“Too bad. This one's happening.” She checks her watch. “I've got a patient in five. But tomorrow at that Thai place on Fifth.”
Before I can protest, she's gone, leaving me with my sandwich and the uneasy feeling that I'm losing control of more than just my living situation.
The next day, Leo drives me to the restaurant. It's modest compared to the places Kiren has been taking me for dinner. Real tablecloths but not linen, good food but not pretentious. Normal.
Lila is already there, and she's not alone.
“Rowan!” She waves me over, beaming. “I want you to meet someone.”
The man sitting across from her stands as I approach. He's tall, maybe 6’ 2”, with dark hair and pleasant features. His smile is warm as he extends his hand.
“You must be Rowan. I'm Ivan. Lila's told me so much about you.”
His accent is faint but present. Eastern European, though I can'tplace it exactly. His grip is firm without being aggressive, and his eyes are friendly.
“Ivan and I have been dating for about a month,” Lila announces, practically glowing. “Can you believe I kept it secret this long? I wanted to be sure before introducing him to anyone.”
I lean back into my chair, smiling despite the odd flutter in my stomach. “A month is pretty serious for you.”
“I know, right?” She leans into Ivan, who wraps an arm around her shoulders with easy affection. “He's different. Special.”
Ivan laughs, ducking his head modestly. “She exaggerates. I'm very ordinary.”
“Ordinary guys don't take me to that incredible French place on our third date,” Lila counters.
We order, and the conversation flows easily enough. Ivan works in private security, something vague about consulting for high-net-worth clients, and he’s originally from the Ukraine. He's been in the States for fifteen years, living in Charlotte the whole time.
But there's attention in the way he looks at me. Not romantic interest, more like an assessment.
“So, you're an ER doctor, too,” he observes. “That must be incredibly rewarding. And challenging.”
“Both,” I agree.
“Lila mentioned you were in a car accident recently. Are you recovered?”
“Mostly.” I take a sip of water, my fingers brushing the faint line along my cheek without thinking. “Minor injuries, more shaken than hurt.”
“That must have been frightening.” His sympathy seems genuine. “Were you alone?”
The question feels pointed, though his tone is casual.
“I was,” I answer, lifting my glass again.
“Rowan's amazing in emergencies,” Lila interjects. “She's saved so many lives. I wish I had her calm under pressure.”
Ivan turns that assessing gaze back to me. “What did you specialize in, before emergency medicine?”
“I didn't specialize. I went straight into emergency after residency. Lila did too.”
“Fascinating.” He leans forward slightly. “You must see all manner of cases. Trauma, overdoses, gunshot wounds.”
“Sometimes.”
