Page 76 of A Really Bad Idea

“That’s why you love me.” He winks and walks around the door to get into the cab. “Now, walk inside, so I know you’re safe.”

“Don’t wait until I’m in the elevator. I think you’re giving Sal a complex, making him think he’s not fit for the job.”

“That’s a lie, but I’ll meet you halfway and drive off once I know you’re in the lobby.”

I give him a captain’s salute and walk inside the doors where Salvatore is standing and walks me to the elevator bank. I look back and see the cab drive away. I feel the smile on my face.

“I take it, you had a lovely evening,” Salvatore says as we wait.

“I did. Thank you.”

“You are positively beaming.” His words give me pause. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think that doctor of yours is your sweetheart.”

I shake my head in dismissal. “That would be wishful thinking on your part.”

The elevator doors open, and I step inside.

“Shame. I’d like to see you with someone who puts a smile on your face, Ms. Duvane.”

“Me, too, Sal. Have a good night.” I hit the button for my floor, all the while thinking about how easily I could fall in love with Christian Gallagher.

Whoever says sex doesn’t change things has never gone to bed with their best friend.

“It began with searing chest pain, and then I felt pressure in my sternum,” Mrs. Lerry, a patient of ours, explains when she walks into the office.

I pull out my stethoscope and listen to her heart. “And now? Where’s the pain?” I ask in a calm voice.

“It’s spread to my arms and back.”

I look at the woman standing before me. Mid-fifties and fit from being an avid runner. Her color is a bit sallow. She has high cholesterol that we treat with medication.

“Why didn’t you go straight to the hospital?” I ask and escort her to a room in the back. As we pass Angela, I instruct her with urgent eyes, “Get Dr. Gallagher Sr. into room two.”

I make Mrs. Lerry comfortable on the examination table.

“I thought it was heartburn, but it hasn’t stopped. I didn’t want to go to the emergency room and waste everyone’s time, only to find out it was something minor,” she explains as I get the electrocardiogram machine, putting the tabs onto her chest to take a test.

“I’m glad you came in,” I say, not showing I’m certain the woman is having a heart attack.

She grabs her lower back and inhales.

“On a scale of one to ten, how’s the pain?” I ask as the machine’s line jumps, showing me her heart is under stress.

“Six?” she says like it’s a question.

“We’re calling an ambulance to get you to St. Xavier,” I state.

Her eyes widen. “Don’t do that. I can walk myself over.”

With a shake of my head, I admonish, “You are in our care now and have to follow my orders. You’re having a heart attack, but don’t worry; you’re in great care. The ambulance will ensure you get right up to cardiology without having to wait in the emergency room.”

As the words come out of my mouth, the door opens, and Thomas walks in. His eyes go straight to the results of the electrocardiogram. I grab the phone from the wall and call over to the hospital to have them send over an ambulance.

“I eat right, and I exercise. I’m a runner,” Mrs. Lerry gasps, astonished, now clutching her side.

“The body works in mysterious ways. We’ll get a CT scan at the hospital to rule out artery dissection, and we’ll go from there. I’ll follow you over and be with you every step of the way,” he assures her as he lays a hand on her leg. “You will be okay.”

“Did I wait too long? I thought it was heartburn, maybe even an ulcer. I’ve been sitting like this for hours. I only came in because you were closer than my internist.”