19. Michael
Sarah looked over the rim of her soda can and wagged her eyebrows in response to my comment. The break room was empty except for the two of us, so we let our guard down a little and relaxed into the same manner of conversation we’d have if we were alone.
“Are you saying we’ll have to make a pit stop on the way home?” she asked, referring to the trip to my mother’s house. It was a long drive to make all in one day, but our work schedules didn’t allow for us to take more than one day for the event. Though, the thought of a pit stop at a hotel for a quickie hadn’t escaped my thoughts.
I leaned back in my chair as the blood rushed to my groin. Her flirty behavior only encouraged me to take risks I knew weren’t the best idea, but for the past ten days, we’d been on pretty solid ground. We had avoided any further talk about my moving away, and I managed not to be too grumpy with her when we were alone, though my work attitude needed improvement. I’d been told that by a few nurses who pulled me aside.
“Who needs a pit stop?” I smirked at her and leaned forward. “We can use the bathroom at my mom’s house.” Remembering how I took her on my bathroom counter made my dick twitch just thinking about it. She merely snickered and waved me off, and a nurse walked into the room to get herself a cup of coffee so I changed the subject. “Why don’t you bring Emily, actually? My mom loves kids. We can make a day of it. There is a children’s museum only fifteen minutes from her house, and Emily would love it.” I spoke quietly, hoping Sarah would get the point. I didn’t really want the nurse listening to our private discussion.
Sarah’s eyes flicked over to the nurse, who minded her own business. The coffee maker was a magnet for all staff, continuously being filled and cleaned out round the clock. I knew coming in here, we’d have limited privacy, but we’d been keeping things professional at work for the most part. Sarah was always modest with her flirting, anyway.
“I don’t know if I’m ready for that. She hasn’t met you yet, so meeting your mom seems like a big step.” She reached into her bag of corn chips and grabbed a few, then said, “Besides, how will that pit stop work if there is a four-year-old along?”
I wasn’t sure whether the nurse heard the comment or not, but my body stiffened. I knew how much hospital administration frowned upon inner-office relationships. Even with the paperwork filed through HR—which we hadn’t done yet—they liked to give doctors a hard time. I had no idea who this nurse was or if she was the sort to be nosy, but I had to nip this in the bud before Sarah gave too much away.
“I’m glad for this pit stop. That’s for sure. I needed coffee after that surgery.” I had to change the subject yet again to avoid the conversation going in a direction I would grow nervous about or frustrated over. I was disappointed that she didn’t want to bring her daughter. I’d been hoping to meet her soon, but it was a mother’s decision when to introduce her child to the man she was dating. It wasn’t my right to tell her otherwise.
Sarah looked at me, slightly confused, and then chuckled. “Not quite the pit stop I was referring to.”
“But a needed one all the same. I have two more surgeries today—short ones—but coffee is the fuel that keeps me going strong.” I eyed the coffee area to see the nurse had retreated. She sat at a table sipping her hot brew, and I knew if I spoke quietly, she’d never hear me, but I didn’t want to take a risk. Sarah clearly didn’t get the point that I didn’t want to make our relationship public knowledge yet. There was a lot going on in my life, and the delicate balance between what to say and when to say it to administration and Sarah, too, was ever teetering. My tone was a bit too firm, my approach perhaps a little heavy-handed, and I let my grumpy side slip out again too easily. Sarah frowned.
“Okay?” She tilted her head and furrowed her brow, and I lightly touched her hand. I hated that when I got even the slightest bit flustered, I got snappy with people.
“To be continued?” I asked just as my phone started to chime. I figured it was my reminder to head down to the surgical ward to scrub in, but when I pulled it out, I saw the caller ID and felt my heart surge up to my throat. “I have to take this.”
I stood and patted her shoulder as I walked out into the hallway, phone vibrating in my hand. Only when I had ducked into an empty patient room across the hall did I swipe to answer and bring the phone to my ear.
“Dr. Lawson,” I said, my usual greeting. The tension in my body continued to soar as Deborah spoke.
“Dr. Lawson, I’m so happy to give you the good news. Our board of directors watched the recorded interview, and they would love the chance to meet you and do a second interview.” She sounded thrilled to be sharing this good news, though I found the news to be somewhat less “good” than it was stress-inducing.
Any other day, I’d have said this was the best news of my life. I’d have run gung-ho toward this job and forgotten everything else. But now, with Sarah constantly on my mind and my heart getting so tangled up in this messy situation we had going on, I wasn’t sure what to think. I wanted this job, and the idea of living in London excited me. But now I had an anchor—which until now, I’d thought was only a good thing. But maybe it wasn’t just keeping my emotions in check. Maybe this anchor was holding me back.
“I’d love to do a second interview.” My tone sounded less than convincing, at least to me, but Deborah’s reaction was so positive I assumed she didn’t hear the hesitation in my voice.
“That’s so great. I know you will make a great addition to our team, and once the board speaks to you, they’ll agree with me. Now, we still have the opportunity for you to come and tour the campus and meet staff. Are you interested in that?” The question hung in the air, and the snake of indecision coiled around my throat.
“Uh, yes,” I choked out, wondering what Sarah would say if I told her I was going to London. Or maybe I wouldn’t tell her I was going. I could just go and come back and message or call her while I was there as if things were normal. It would take a little work to iron out the details between her work schedule and when I was usually available. London would have to work with me too.
Or I could tell her I was just taking a vacation, something I’d had planned for a while now. My mind raced with all the possibilities—all things I felt guilty for thinking. Here was a woman I was falling for, whom I would consider spending the rest of my life with, and I didn’t want to upset her with the fact that I could be interviewing for my dream job. My heart sank, and I realized Deborah had been talking the entire time I was thinking.
“So, let’s just get through this interview and we’ll get something set up for a visit. How does next month sound?”
“Uh, let me look at my schedule. It’s likely to be very tight. I’ll let you know.” I slumped onto the foot of the bed behind me and swallowed the lump in my throat.
“Great. I’ll be in touch.”
Deborah hung up, and I locked my phone and stared at it. What was I even doing leading Sarah on when I had this great opportunity? Or was I leading them on? I knew what I wanted, but it didn’t seem likely that would happen. Convincing Sarah to move to London with me seemed about as likely as my winning the lottery.
I jammed my phone back into my pocket and walked into the hallway, only to bump into my scrub nurse for my next surgery. She was headed down to get ready and I was her roadblock.
“Running late again, Doc?” she asked, and her tone was friendly, but I was on edge.
“Not sure that’s any of your business,” I snapped, and when I did, I instantly felt guilty. I looked over at the nurses’ station as we passed and saw Sarah look up at me, but I averted my gaze right away. I was in a foul mood of my own doing.
“Looks like we get a Grumpy Gus for surgery today, huh?” The nurse’s retort only aggravated me more, so when I heard Sarah call my name, I pretended I hadn’t heard her. I stared at the floor ahead of me and kept right on walking. Hopefully, I hadn’t upset her by doing that, but my own indecision made it impossible for me to remain objective and calm.
If it was this bad already, how would I handle it if I really did go to London?