Page 36 of Clinically Delicious
“Tomorrow, then?”
“Maybe.”
“I’m free for lunch,” Quinton offered. “We can discuss Gabriel’s emotional crisis over pastrami.”
“There’s no emotional crisis,” I said.
“Your crumpled file would suggest otherwise,” Julien observed.
I looked down. The file was indeed crumpled beyond recognition.
Damn it.
The meeting continued. Patients were discussed. Schedules were coordinated. Fitz made another joke about the Morrison kid’s nasal bead collection. Julien mentioned a complex seizure case he was consulting on. Quinton described a drunk guy who’d come into the ER convinced he could fly. Everything was perfectly normal.
Except I couldn’t focus on any of it.
My mind kept drifting back to this morning—to the moment I’d stepped into the hallway and seen Cate standing there, her hair slightly mussed, her eyes wide, her whole body radiating nervous energy.
She’d looked at me like I was a problem she couldn’t solve.
And then she’d fled downstairs with Megan, leaving me standing there with the taste of her name on my tongue and the memory of her voice saying “He was... friendly” in a tone that suggested Fitz had been anything but.
I’d wanted to follow her. To ask what Fitz had said. To make sure he hadn’t made her uncomfortable.
To make sure she wasn’t interested.
But I hadn’t. Because I was her employer, and she was my employee, and whatever this thing was that had been building between us since she’d walked into my house late and flustered and completely wrong for the job—it couldn’t happen.
It shouldn’t happen.
It wasn’t going to happen.
Even if the thought of Fitz happening instead made me want to commit medical malpractice.
“Alright, everyone,” Hayden said, closing his tablet. “Let’s make it a good Monday. Try not to let any kids stick anything else up their noses, Fitz.”
“No promises.”
“Try not to let anyone die in the ER, Quinton.”
“Also no promises.”
“And Gabriel?” Hayden’s expression was knowing. “Try not to murder any of your colleagues. We’re short-staffed as it is.”
The meeting broke up. Nathan headed for his office. Hayden stopped to chat with Winnie about something at the front desk. Julien gathered his notes with methodical precision. Quinton was already texting someone, probably the group chat he’d threatened earlier.
Fitz lingered, that knowing grin still plastered across his face.
“You know,” he said casually, “if you’re interested in Cate yourself, you could just say so.”
“I’m not interested in Cate,” I lied. “She’s my nanny.”
“Right. Your nanny. Who you definitely don’t think about.” Fitz’s grin widened. “That’s why you looked like you wanted to perform an emergency appendectomy on me without anesthesia when I mentioned asking her out.”
“I looked nothing of the sort.”
“Gabriel. I’ve known you since freshman year of college. I’ve seen you handle everything from screaming toddlers to entitled parents to that guy who came in convinced he had brain parasites because he’d eaten sushi. You never lose your cool.” He paused. “You just lost your cool.”
