Page 1 of A Really Bad Idea

Meadow

“Earth to Meadow.” Angela snaps her fingers, pulling my attention over to where she’s sitting behind the reception desk at Park Avenue Cardiology. “Baby fever?” she asks without looking up from her computer.

I glance down at the magazine I grabbed from the wicker basket in the waiting room. “Why do you always ask me that?”

“Because, lately, you get this dreamy stare when you see a cute baby.” She lifts her head and points in the direction of the advertisement on the open page of the magazine. A baby with chubby cheeks and bright blue eyes is giggling. “And that baby is fucking adorable.”

“All babies are beautiful.”

She leans back in her swivel chair and gives me a dead stare. “No, they’re not. Most look like constipated old men.”

I open my mouth to argue, but it’s really no use. The seven-year age gap between me and my coworker is a century in the world of life planning. While she’s still busy flirting on Snapchat and getting picked up at music festivals on Roosevelt Island, I’m spending Friday nights on the couch with a glass of wine and a good book … while getting distracted at the sight of an advertisement.

“We’ll agree to disagree.” I toss the magazine back in the basket and take one of the open seats behind the reception desk. When I’m in between patients, I like to sit up here with Angela instead of being cooped up in the back office.

Her fingers are drumming lightly on the desk as she raises a brow.

I roll my eyes and concede, “Okay, fine. My neighbor’s baby does remind me of my great-uncle Leroy.”

She gives a cheeky grin. “I love it when I’m right.”

With a shake of my head and a light laugh, I grab a stack of folders and open the top one, doing a quick once-over of the notes from a patient we’ve already seen today. As a nurse practitioner, I see nonurgent patients on my own and assist the cardiologist on the more severe cases.

Angela pushes her foot against the filing cabinet and rolls in my direction. Her long black hair sways with the action. “Got any plans this weekend?”

“You know me, one hot date after the other.” Despite my sarcastic tone, her feet dance with anticipation. I place a hand on her lap to control her legs and explain, “Calm yourself, Yang. I’m going to my brother’s house.”

Her excitement dwindles with the sag of her shoulders and a scowl on her lips. “Oh. That’s not fun. What is the perfect family celebrating this time?”

“Brian and Beth are hosting my birthday dinner.”

She scoots back to her desk, grabs her vitaminwater, and twists the cap. “But your birthday isn’t until next week.”

“Apparently, everyone has plans next weekend.” I shrug.

“Do you think your mom will give you a pass from prying into your love life since it’s your special day?”

I let out a quick, heavy laugh. “There is no get-out-of-jail-free card when it comes to Gail Duvane’s unwanted, albeit well-intentioned, meddling. My thirty-third birthday is ample time for her to remind me that I’m single … and barren.”

Angela takes a gulp of her drink. “You can fake sick.”

“It’s okay. I’ve been meaning to visit my nephews, and, bonus, I get to raid Beth’s closet!”

“Your sister-in-law has the best shoes.” She gets a dreamy stare in her eyes at my shoe-blogger sister-in-law’s ultimate collection of high-end footwear.

“Too bad, her foot is a size too small.” I grimace.

“I’d cut off a toe to own her Saint Laurent monogrammed heeled boots.”

“They’re so pretty.”

We both let out a sigh.

One of the exam room doors opens, and Dr. Christian Gallagher comes out and walks up to the reception area. I gaze up to see him—thick, dark hair and piercing green eyes set on a ruggedly handsome face.

“What are you two dreaming about?” he asks.

“Meadow wants a baby,” Angela declares.