Chapter 11
Laine
My phone rings right at four fifteen, just as Jack promised. I glance out the window and confirm that he’s there. I still don’t understand why he’s doing this, and I’ve overanalyzed everything we said to each other last night. Sure, it’s about him, but he’s never taken this much interest in any article I’ve written, except for the one that ended us.
I walk downstairs and right to his car. The lush leather seat surrounds me as he hands me a mug of coffee.
“Thank you. Where did you get this?”
He pulls onto the street. “Believe it or not, I made it.”
I turn to him, my brow raised.
He shrugs. “I know. I finally learned how to use the machine.”
I take a tentative sip, and it’s just as I like it—not too strong, some milk, with artificial sweetener. It’s really good. “Perfect.”
“Thank you. I aim to please.”
I wish that were true. But I know better. “Did you sleep at all?”
He nods. “For a little while. I may need a nap today.”
He never sleeps much. I envied that about him, but I know it bothers him sometimes.
I direct him to the printer. They’re in a group of warehouses on the waterfront. When we arrive, the big doors are open and the presses are running. I can hear the clink and clank of the papers being printed by the monster machines. Sunday’s edition seems to be one of the few papers people still want to physically hold while they read.
At the right of the door is a container of bright orange ear plugs. I hand a bag of them to Jack, and we put them in. We head to the office where the noise is slightly muffled.
“Hey, Tim!” I call.
Tim Zhang is the manager of the plant. He comes in every night at eleven and begins printing the paper. It’s done with just four people these days. Computers and machines do the rest.
“Hey, famous lady. I saw your article on the cover of the Lifestyle section.”
I nod. “Thank you. That’s why I’m here.”
He looks over my shoulder. “Ah, and the heartwarming doctor.”
Jack extends his hand and shakes with Tim. “Sorry to intrude on your morning.”
“I knew she’d come. She always does when she has a big story.”
I smile. “You missed me after the Sun took this printer away from the Herald .”
“You know I did.” He grins.
Jack moves a little closer. Really ? He’d better not become all territorial. Not only has that ship sailed away, my port is closed.
Tim waves us back, pulls two issues of the paper out of the running machinery, and hands them to us.
“Thank you,” we both say at the same time.
“Looks like that will be a story with some legs,” he says.
I nod. That’s what I’m hoping too. “Thank you, Tim. I hope to be back soon.”
We return to Jack’s car and get in. It’s still dark, but at least it’s not raining. I take a deep breath. I love the smell of the ink on the newsprint. “This is what I miss most about everyone going digital.”
Jack opens his paper to the Lifestyle section and groans. “They would choose this picture.”
I look at it in the dim light. Jack is standing with his hands in his dark gray pants pockets, wearing an expensive shirt and his white coat. His hair looks like someone just ran their fingers through it. Yup, I know why they used this picture. He looks hot.
“You’ll get a bit of attention for that,” I note, trying not to laugh.
“And I’ll hate every minute.”
I nod. I know he will. I think that’s part of why he became a doctor. He wanted to be more than just a pretty face.
He tosses the paper into the back and drives toward my building. When we stop for a light, he asks, “Would you like to meet Abdo?”
I sit up straight in my seat. “Yes, of course. Do you mean right now? It’s not even five thirty. Will he be awake?”
“We can grab breakfast in the hospital cafeteria first.”
I don’t feel like I should let him out of my sight while he’s in a cooperative mood. “Sure. That sounds great. It will give me a chance to read the article carefully. At first glance, it doesn’t look like they changed anything, but I’ve never had an editor who didn’t tweak something.”
“Do you have someplace to be today?” he asks.
“Just in bed.”
Jack looks away, and I hope that didn’t come off like innuendo. We’ve moved way beyond that now.
When we get to the hospital, he parks in his assigned space and we walk in together. Despite the time, the cafeteria is busy, like always.
I pick up a tray and head over to the waffle station. I love the Belgian waffles here. I nearly collide with Brittney Blaine, a surgical nurse, who’s headed straight to Jack. She’s had a crush on him since long before I was in the picture, but Jack’s never been interested.
She makes small talk with him, and he smiles. They’d make a handsome couple. Though even as I think it, I hate the idea. I’m angry at Jack for giving up on us, but I’m not ready to see him move on, I guess. I need to work on releasing him from my heart so I can.
Jack says something, and Brittney frowns before he walks over to me. “You can invite her to join us if you’d like,” I tell him.
“No thank you,” he says.
When my waffle is done, he insists on paying, and we sit down. I immediately flip open the paper and start reading my article. I don’t think any word has been changed. It’s exactly as I wrote it. My body relaxes.
“It’s just as I intended,” I announce.
As we eat, the stack of newspapers for the hospital arrives and a few people buy one. Slowly, the hospital staff in the cafeteria begin to chatter.
Brittney and her nurse friends are ablaze, gesturing wildly and looking over at Jack and me.
Jack looks around a moment. He must see it too. “Linda Hsu and Sam Rushton are going to owe me big time for this.”
I smile as I finish the last bite of my waffle. “No one makes a better waffle in the entire city.”
“Are you paying attention?” Jack nearly screeches.
I shrug. “I see your little friend over there with her groupies. They’re wishing it was them who messed up your hair in that photo.”
He shakes his head.
“I know you’re more than a pretty face,” I say mockingly.
“If you want to meet Abdo, you’d better be nicer to me.” He looks down at the paper again. “Ugh. That photo.”
I laugh. “Honestly, I wouldn’t have picked that picture, but I’m sure had they had one of you in your surgical cap and scrubs and your biceps bulging. That would have been worse.”
“My biceps bulging?”
“You’ve got some serious guns. You know that.”
He smiles. “I just never considered them bulging.”
“Stop fishing for compliments.”
He laughs and then looks at me a moment, almost as if he’s considering saying something.
I’m not sure I want to hear whatever it might be, so I hand him the sports section and busy myself with the rest of the newspaper.
A little while later, Jack looks at his watch. “It’s nearly seven. Are you ready to meet Abdo?”
I smile. “Yes. Let’s go.”
We clean up our table, and a bubbly little thing walks over with the newspaper and a pen. “Can you sign your picture?”
Jack looks at me, as if I’m somehow going to navigate this situation for him. I, most certainly, am not, so I shrug.
He sighs. “I don’t know why you’d want that, but here you go.” He scribbles his name and hands her back the paper. He leads me briskly to the elevator with his hand at the small of my back.
His touch does the same thing it’s always done to me, and I take a deep breath to push the feeling away.