3. Liam
CHAPTER 3
LIAM
I should have known that this course would be a bad idea. These things almost always are. I spent an hour and a half on the phone with my boss and with the people who organized the training, giving them a piece of my mind about how shoddily the whole thing has been arranged.
Almost everything about this trip has gone wrong so far. My flights were delayed, my work shifts weren’t canceled properly, and now the hotel got it wrong too.
I’m starting to wish I never bothered coming out here in the first place.
It’s almost tempting to just turn around and leave, or at the very least blow off the first night and the stupid opening talks, but I’ve spent this money now, and work is expecting me to come back with some sort of qualification, so I can’t let them down. At least I have drink tokens. That’s the only thing that can make any of this worth something.
I head down to the bar and sit down heavily. It’s busy, full of others who are either here as doctors or as vacationers, and you can tell which is which. The doctors are in polos and keep to themselves, while the vacationers are in bright print shirts and pretty dresses, laughing with cocktails in hand. The fact that the doctors look miserable does not fill me with joy.
With a wave, I get the attention of the bartender and ask him to surprise me with a drink. He flashes me a smile, and I sigh. If he wants conversation, then he’s talking to the wrong guy.
To prove it, I pull out my phone and start scrolling aimlessly, trying to block out the background bustle of people arriving, getting drinks, getting friendly, getting so, so excited to learn so much on the training course. Ugh. I can’t imagine being that enthusiastic about anything. All there is to life is work, and I’ve made it my job to work hard.
And then someone comes and sits next to me, bringing a lovely floral scent to my awareness.
I kind of get it. The bar is busy, and there aren’t that many available seats, but still. Right next to me? When I am clearly giving off do not approach vibes?
It’s not until I look up and notice who it is that I sigh audibly.
“Oh,” she says, coming to the same realization. “Sorry. I can go.”
“No, you don’t have to,” I say, impulse overtaking me. Not a feeling I’m often met with, and I’m not completely sure I like it. “Let me buy you a drink.”
“You?” she scoffs. “Why would you buy me a drink?”
“Because you’re a lovely young woman, and we’re both sitting at this bar together.” It’s true, she is lovely. Despite everything earlier, I couldn’t help but notice the curve of her face, her soft olive skin, her dark hair. Her long legs that draw the eye all the way up to her hips, her breasts… “You must want a drink.”
“What makes you think I want anything from you?”
“Well, now,” I say, startled by the attitude. I was just trying to be nice. “Is this because I yelled at the guy behind the reception desk?”
She nods slowly, making her disapproval clear.
Seriously? Why is she being so sensitive about that?
“They were giving us both awful customer service,” I say. “I mean, of course I don’t expect too much out of staff, especially at hotels. They’re usually useless. But I at least want them to apologize for their mistakes when they make them.”
“You know they’re working under stress, without enough support most of the time. You could be a little kinder.”
I shrug, not bothering to smile. “Don’t talk to me about stress. I’m a doctor. I know all about stress and no support.”
“You’re a doctor?”
I can’t explain it, but the way she blinks in surprise annoys me. It’s like she can’t believe that a guy like me could have any kind of bedside manner. Which isn’t true at all. I am great at my job as a hospital ob-gyn. It’s just everything else that I hate.
“Yes. It’s why I’m in this stupid place to start with.”
“Oh, the training course,” she says, her eyes widening as if that’s making sense of everything. My heart sinks as I guess exactly what words are going to come out of her mouth next. “I’m here for that too.”
“Great,” I mutter.
“Great? What do you mean by that?” Her dark eyes blaze, her face alight with irritation.
I give her my very best sarcastic grin, flashing my teeth. “We’re going to have a great time with it all, I’m sure. Just peachy.”
“You could really do with a new attitude,” she says as she tilts her head and scrunches her nose, and despite her pretty face, the look on it sours everything.
“Who are you to tell me what to do?” I’ve had enough of this for today. I’m tired from the flight, I’m still annoyed from the room screwup, and now she’s winding me up almost like it’s on purpose. I lean forward a little, enough so I can catch the faint scent of her perfume. It’s lightly floral. “I’m not here to learn a new attitude.”
“Well, maybe it wouldn’t hurt if you did,” she sniffs, then waves down the bartender for a drink.
“Hey, I was going to get you one of those,” I say, annoyed that she didn’t want to take me up on the offer.
She shrugs. “Too slow.”
My mouth drops open. Too slow? It’s clearly bait, but I’m not going to rise to it. I’ve wasted enough energy on her already, and all this bickering is bad for my blood pressure.
Instead, I grab my own drink and take a swig.
We sit together in a moment of uneasy silence. I look over my shoulder, realizing that it has suddenly fallen very, very quiet in the bar, as compared to when I first arrived.
“What time is the opening meeting?” she asks, like she’s having the same realization as me. “Where’s everyone gone?”
“I was about to ask the same,” I say, covering for the fact that I don’t know the answer.
“Damn,” she says, looking at her phone. “It’s past the starting time. We’re late.”
“I guess that explains where everyone’s gone,” I say dryly.
“I can’t believe you’re making a joke out of this,” she says, getting to her feet. Then she looks at me. “Actually, no, I don’t. I expect you’re not here to learn much at all, are you?”
That makes me prickle with annoyance. She has no idea how hard I’ve worked to be where I’m at. She has no right to be casting these judgments upon me.
“You kept me late,” I huff. “You distracted me.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says, folding her arms.
I jump to my feet and storm off so I can say I left first. She follows quickly behind me, saying nothing. Together, however reluctantly, we make our way to the hall.
As quietly as we can, we sneak into the main conference room and slip into some seats in the back row. Unfortunately, we can’t stay secret for long because the main speaker notices us.
“Ah, this must be our two missing members,” he says, staring straight at us in a way that makes everyone else turn around to look at us too.
The woman from the bar grins awkwardly, her hand twitching like she wants to offer the crowd a wave. I stay still as stone, willing this moment to be over.
“Doctors… Liam Mercer and Emma Rodriguez, correct?”
“Yes,” I confirm as quietly as I can. The woman — Emma — just nods.
The speaker looks down at his notes and frowns in a way that does not fill me with joy. He hums for a second, and his frown deepens. “Well,” he says, drawing out the syllable, “I’m afraid it looks like you will have to team up with each other. I think everyone else found a pair at the start of the meeting…”
A quiet murmur ripples around the room, and Emma and I share a look.
Paired together? For the next few days?
Great. Just great.