Chapter Eleven #2
“Do whatever you want,” I said, my voice carefully controlled. “Just don’t do it on my doorstep. Or during work hours. Or in any way that interferes with her ability to care for my daughter.”
“So... evenings and weekends are fair game?” Fitz’s grin was absolutely shit-eating now.
I wanted to murder him.
Slowly.
With witnesses.
“If she’s interested,” I said through gritted teeth, “that’s her decision.”
“Great!” Fitz clapped his hands together. “I’ll text her later. She gave me her number—said something about coordinating if I ever needed to stop by your place again.”
She gave him her number.
I didn’t even have her number!
Cate gave Fitz her number.
The rational part of my brain—the part that had gotten me through medical school and a surgical residency and eight years of single parenthood—knew this was perfectly reasonable. Fitz was my colleague. He’d been at my house. Having his contact information made sense from a practical standpoint.
“Oh, this is gold,” Quinton declared, pulling out his phone. “I’m texting the group chat right now. ‘Gabriel’s nanny gives Fitz her number.’ ‘Gabriel spontaneously combusts.’”
“Put the phone away,” I said.
“Make me.”
“From a practical standpoint,” Julien said, “pursuing a romantic relationship with your colleague’s employee does present certain ethical complications. Power dynamics, professional boundaries—”
“Thank you,” I said.
“However,” Julien continued, “those complications primarily affect Gabriel, not Fitz. So technically, Fitz is in the clear.”
“Not helping,” I ground out.
The irrational part of my brain—the part that had spent Saturday night standing in a towel while Cate fled from my doorstep, the part that had jerked off to thoughts of her just last night—wanted to throw Fitz out a window.
A high window.
Possibly while it was closed.
“Can we get back to the actual meeting?” I asked, my tone making it clear this wasn’t really a question.
“Sure, sure.” Hayden was still watching me with that knowing look. “Nathan, you were saying about the Henderson follow-up?”
Nathan launched into details about Emma Henderson’s ear infection, but I barely heard him. My mind was stuck in a loop, replaying Fitz’s words.
She’s adorable.
Got this whole flustered, wide-eyed thing going on.
I might have mentioned grabbing coffee sometime.
She gave me her number.
I’d spent the entire weekend trying not to think about Cate.
Trying not to remember the way she’d looked at me in the kitchen, knife in hand, eyes wide with recognition.
Trying not to replay the moment she’d stood on my doorstep, her gaze traveling down my body before snapping back up to my face with an expression that was equal parts mortified and. .. something else.
Something that had made me hard enough to need a very cold shower and a very private moment with my hand.
And now Fitz—Fitz, who collected phone numbers like other people collected baseball cards—was planning to text her. To ask her out for coffee. To make her laugh and blush and stumble over her words the way she’d apparently done this morning.
“Gabriel?”
I looked up. Hayden was watching me expectantly.
“Sorry, what?”
“I asked if you wanted to grab lunch today. There’s that new place on Main Street—supposed to have decent sandwiches.”
“Can’t. Packed schedule.” It wasn’t entirely a lie. My schedule was packed. But even if it wasn’t, I couldn’t imagine sitting through lunch while Fitz regaled us with more stories about how adorable Cate was.
“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.”
“I’m perfectly calm.”
“You crumpled your patient file.”
Damn it.
“I’m going to check on my first appointment,” I said, standing abruptly.
“Sure thing.” Fitz’s voice followed me as I headed for the door. “But for what it’s worth? She asked about you.”
I stopped.
I shouldn’t have stopped. Stopping was a mistake. Stopping showed interest, and showing interest was exactly what I’d been trying to avoid.
But I stopped anyway.
“What did she ask?” The words came out before I could stop them.
“Just if you were around. If you’d be back soon.” Fitz’s tone was maddeningly casual. “She seemed... I don’t know. Nervous? Like she was expecting you and got me instead.”
She’d been expecting me.
She’d been nervous.
She’d asked about me.
“She was probably just concerned about being late,” I said, forcing my voice back to neutral. “Cate’s punctual. It’s one of her few consistent qualities.”
“Right. Punctual.” Fitz was definitely laughing at me now. “Well, I’ll let you get to your appointments. But, Gabriel?”
I didn’t turn around.
“If you’re not interested, you should probably tell your face that. Because when I mentioned coffee, you looked like you wanted to commit murder.”
He left before I could respond.
Which was good, because I didn’t have a response that wouldn’t prove his point.
I stood in the hallway, crumpled file in hand, and tried to remember why hiring Cate had seemed like a good idea.
She was good with Megan. She was reliable—mostly. She made my daughter laugh and eat vegetables and actually look forward to seeing her every day.
Those were all excellent reasons to keep her employed.
They were not reasons to care whether Fitz asked her out.
They were not reasons to feel like someone had reached into my chest and squeezed when he’d described her as “adorable.”
They were definitely not reasons to spend my entire morning replaying the moment she’d stood in my hallway, looking at me with those wide eyes, her voice slightly breathless as she’d said “Good morning” like it was a question instead of a greeting.
I had patients to see. A practice to run. A daughter who needed stability and routine and a father who had his shit together.
I did not have time to be jealous of my colleague flirting with my nanny.
Even if the thought of Cate having coffee with Fitz made me want to break something.
Preferably Fitz’s face.
Mrs. Patterson was waiting in exam room two. The Kowalski twins were probably already bouncing off the walls in exam room three. My eleven o’clock consultation would arrive expecting professionalism and expertise.
I could do this. I could focus. I could be the competent, controlled physician I’d spent years becoming.
I would absolutely not think about Cate.
Or Fitz.
Or Cate with Fitz.
Or the way she’d looked this morning, standing in my hallway, her eyes meeting mine with an expression that had made my pulse spike and my carefully maintained control slip just enough to mutter “I’m going to kill him” under my breath.
Monday, I decided, was going to be a very long day.
And it wasn’t even nine AM yet.