Chapter 3
SAM
“Dr. Maxwell, is there anything else you need?" Nurse Christine asked me.
"No, thanks. I'm going to head out."
She nodded, and I left the exam room. First, I was going to stop by the doctors’ lounge and grab a sandwich before leaving to see the apartment.
Being in a hospital still felt strange to me.
I spent the first years of my stint with Doctors Without Borders in dangerous areas.
It had been a stressful time but also very rewarding.
I was making a difference, and I'd learned invaluable skills. A doctor always had to react well under pressure and choose the best course of treatment for the patient. But making those decisions while being surrounded by gunfire or hearing sirens was another matter altogether. Even when I was in Honduras, things didn’t run as smoothly as here.
It almost felt uncomfortable to be this comfortable.
When I entered the doctors’ lounge, Dr. Robinson Matthew was there. He was the CEO of the hospital and someone I looked up to. He became the CEO last year, after a riding accident left him unable to perform surgeries.
"Maxwell, good to see you. How do you like it here?" he asked.
I bought a sandwich from one of the vending machines. It didn't look like much, but I was starving, and it would do. "The team is treating me great."
He barked out a laugh. He was in his sixties and an absolute legend. “You’re something of a celebrity around here. We don't get many who’ve been abroad with Doctors Without Borders. The general usually steals them from us." The general was a nickname for the general hospital among the staff.
We sat down at one of the tables in the lounge.
There were five in total, as well as a few couches.
The cafeteria downstairs had more food to offer, but I didn't like that place as much.
It was too crowded with staff, patients, and visitors.
In between patients, I needed to be able to relax, and for that, I needed silence.
"You've accumulated a lot of knowledge and improved your technique, even while working under duress. You’ll flourish here."
"Thanks. I think I will too.”
“But you’re still unwilling to sign a permanent contract?"
I swallowed the mouthful of sandwich I’d just bitten off before speaking, and it went down like dried sawdust.
“I don't want to make any rash decisions.” I’d abandoned my work with Doctors Without Borders for Olivia.
Since things didn’t work out, there was theoretically nothing keeping me here except the possibility of opening a pro bono clinic.
"I want to give hospital life a try before committing to it. It’s a big change for me from what I used to do. "
"Whenever you're ready to make it permanent, just say the word. We'll draft the contract before you have time to change your mind again.”
“Interesting. I have thought about that—and you know what would make me sign right away.”
He gave me a long look. “You drive a hard bargain, Maxwell.”
“Always.”
As CEO, Robinson Matthew could make the clinic happen. But he didn’t question me any further on that. Instead he asked, “You're still living in your brother's hotel?"
"Yeah, but I'm going to look at a loft in half an hour. It's three streets away from the hospital, which is way more convenient.”
Its proximity to the hospital was one of the reasons it caught my eye. The shifts were long and intense, and I didn't want to waste any time getting back home and crashing after a long day.
"Good luck with the apartment."
“Thank you.”
I had a good feeling about it, and I had a good feeling about seeing Avery again too. Travis might give me shit, but I didn't care. She and I were grown-ups now, and I was looking forward to catching up with her.
After finishing my sandwich, I headed to the main floor to the locker room and changed quickly. I was out of the hospital in under five minutes.
The hospital and the loft were in the Pilsen neighborhood of the city, almost on the border of the South Loop neighborhood.
Before taking this job, I hadn't ventured here too often. I had to admit, the murals were famous for a reason. They looked like the art you’d find in a nice gallery.
It took a while for my eyes to adjust to the explosion of colors on the walls after staring at sterile white and gray the whole day, but I liked it.
This area had a different vibe from where I'd grown up, and even different from the location I shared with buddies in college and med school.
I checked my phone to make sure I was going in the right direction, and I arrived at the address a few minutes later.
The building looked solid. It was a converted warehouse, and the ground floor had authentic redbrick walls.
The upper level consisted of huge windows.
"Sam?"
I’d recognize her voice anywhere. Glancing to my right, I saw Avery walking up to me. Fuck me. She looked exactly as I remembered but also different.
Her green eyes lit up. They’d always been one of the things I'd loved about her. Her blonde hair was long, covering her breasts. It was a few shades lighter than in high school.
"Hey, Avery. Great to see you again."
Her cheeks turned pink. I walked to her, leaning in and kissing her cheek. She smelled like flowers. Back in high school, she'd used a perfume with a minty note. I had no idea I'd memorized that detail about her.
I straightened up, taking a step back. I had this unbelievable feeling that I'd gone back in time.
"Are you ready to go up?" she asked. "We’re supposed to be there in two minutes."
"Still a stickler for time, I see," I said, motioning for her to go in first.
"Do you still have a penchant for being late?"
"No. Being a doctor beat that out of me. Being late is not allowed. Ever."
"I can't believe you went through with it and became a doctor," she said as we entered the building.
The door was wide open, which I didn't like.
Did they leave it open on purpose for us, or was it an issue?
It could become a security problem. I wasn't worried about myself, but if Avery did move in, I wanted her to be safe.
"Why not?" I asked. "I always said I would."
"I know, but we all dream about things when we're in high school." She looked over her shoulder. She was smiling, but it was tinged with resignation. "And then we change our dreams.”
I had the sudden urge to bail on the open house and instead take her out for a drink and ask her about every detail of her life since the last time I saw her.
There was a sign in the inner courtyard with an arrow that said Open House.
Good. That meant the door had been left open on purpose.
We went up a staircase that looked old but was well maintained.
It didn't smell moldy. It only went up six steps before the door of the apartment came into view.
It was open, too, and I saw the realtor through it.
"This place is amazing," Avery marveled. "It has so much light."
"I agree," I said. It was four o’clock in the afternoon in October—not a bright month in Chicago, but being in here, you wouldn’t know it.
The realtor came up to us. "Sam Maxwell and Avery Sinclair?"
"Yes," we said at the same time.
"Welcome. My name is Mal Dinklage, and I’ll be showing you the property today."
"Are there others coming?" I asked.
"You've got a twenty-minute slot before the next appointment."
I narrowed my eyes at him. "You said I was the first one who contacted you."
"You were."
"Then I want the right to decide first."
He looked at me, stunned.
"Okay, that’s… all right," Mal stumbled through his words. "Do you want me to show you around?"
I looked at Avery. "I think we can look on our own first and then come back with questions."
"Okay." He scurried to a window, looking outside. Avery was looking at me incredulously.
"What?" I asked.
"I don't know. The way you sounded earlier made it seem as if he didn't have a choice but to agree with you."
"And he didn’t," I replied.
"Yeah, well, I'm still digesting how you went about it."
"Come on, let's look around," I said.
She walked in front of me. On instinct, I started to put my hand at the small of her back but stopped myself at the last possible second.
What the hell? She's not your girlfriend, Sam. This is you and Avery sixteen years later. Fucking be a gentleman about it and behave.
"It's huge."
The main room was a vast space with an open floor plan that included a living room leading to the kitchen with a big island in the center.
There was a full bath near the kitchen. It was at the foot of the staircase that led to the bedrooms upstairs.
That was the only downside of the place—one bathroom only.
There was a laundry room behind the kitchen, at least.
The bedrooms were very spacious. The furniture was included in the rental and consisted of a dresser, a huge bed, and a small desk in each room.
“This place is so huge,” she said. “And so expensive. I mean, some people could afford it on their own, like you. Which reminds me…why do you need a roommate?"
"Look at this place. Like you said, it's far too big."
"Is this your only option?" she asked, playing with the pendant at the base of her neck.
It was a nervous tic. She'd always had it. I wondered how many other men knew this intimate detail about her.
Now I'm jealous of the guys she's been with in the last decade? I was toast. What the hell is happening to me?
"Yes. It's the only place with a flexible lease."
She turned to look at me from the doorway of the bedroom. "Why do you need a flexible one?"
"I'm not sure if I'm going to stay here for good."
"Oh."
Was it my imagination, or did she sound disappointed?