17. Chapter 17
John, Sam’s coworker and closest friend here in LA, was leaning over the charge station, one hand on a black tablet as he flipped through end-of-day patient charts with his black-rimmed glasses propped low on his nose, his gaze flickering from the screen to Walsh.
Sam strolled over to him, joining him at the station and also appraising Dr. Walsh, who was by the staff entrance, having just walked in.
His backpack was still slung on his shoulder, sunglasses on, with—was that a lollipop in his mouth?
Tanya, Saint Sierra’s Hospital Director, was speaking with Walsh, who looked utterly annoyed and bored by whatever it was she was saying.
“What’s that on Walsh’s face?” Sam frowned, assessing the messy, haphazard reddish-brown beard.
“Oh, I believe that would be his protest beard,” John replied, sighing.
“Protest beard? For what?”
“For a lot of things, I’m sure.”
Sam studied Walsh, frowning. “I heard one of the nurses talking about that teen program he created.”
John nodded, eyebrows arched, watching Walsh and Tanya. “Yup.”
“What’d he do? Upset a couple of parents?”
“Actually… It has become wildly successful. So much so, we’ve been having high schools from outside the district start calling, asking for more help.”
Stunned, Sam frowned. “I thought it was just a call-back hotline for teens in crisis?”
“It is, but Walsh has been doing a lot more than that.” John pulled his glasses off, pinching the brim of his nose.
“He managed to rope Wyatt in, too. Apparently, they have been doing the hotline not only while spending their precious time here, but on their off hours, too, becoming para-counselors to these kids.” He cursed.
“I swear, when those two are in the same room together, it’s always trouble. ”
Sam smirked, liking how flustered John was at the mere mention of Wyatt. “I thought we were the cool ones.”
John’s shoulders relaxed, tossing him a smile. The crinkles around his eyes deepened. “For a while there, we were. Then those two got put on night shift together, became best friends, and now Walsh may be temporarily pulled from the ED.”
“Well, that’s news,” Sam commented, glancing back at Walsh, who now looked thoroughly put out. “He doesn’t seem happy about it.”
“Oh, he is not. He hasn’t stopped complaining. I’ve never heard so many Irish curse words in my life. Learned one yesterday about having an itch with no fingernails.”
“What?”
“Doesn’t matter,” John waved a dismissive hand, continuing to watch Walsh and Tanya like it was a tennis match.
“That beard,” Sam remarked, shaking his head and trying not to laugh. “I thought my mustache was bad.”
“We’ve had a few patients complain about it, thinking they’re being treated by an unhoused person rather than their doctor. It doesn’t help that he seems intent on being more, well, dickish than usual.”
Steph, the charge nurse, rounded the corner and spotted the two, grinning. “My favorite duo. Gentlemen,” she followed their gaze and nodded knowingly. “I see… This is about last night, isn’t it?”
“What happened last night?” John asked.
“That actor came in. Total bedlam in here last night. Made a big damn mess in the ED. Nicole said they had paparazzi posing as patients, tryin’ to sneak in.
I ain’t never seen Nicole upset like that in the twenty years I’ve worked with her, and she was madder than Hades when we shift changed this mornin’. ”
“Jesus, that sucks. Glad I missed it. What actor?” Sam asked.
“Gio…” Steph frowned, her pretty face pinching as she tried to remember.
“Gio Vega?” John asked, stunned, mouth agape.
“Yeah, that one,” Steph replied, then smirked at John. “Since when do you know celebrities?”
“Since Wyatt. You haven’t heard of Gio Vega?
” His dark blue eyes darted between Steph and Sam, and they both shook their heads.
“He’s in that show that went viral. There’s been talk about it winning a Peabody.
The other actors in the show are also megastars now, too.
It’s called, shit…” He trailed off, scrubbing his temple, trying to remember.
Steph whipped out her phone and began speed typing. “Got it. Show’s called Love is Never Enough, about a group of friends navigating career, love, and sexuality. Rotten Tomatoes gave it a 98%,” she whistled, impressed. “Audience scores are 100%. So, it’s good.”
“We love it,” John exclaimed, referring to him and his partner, Wyatt. “Gio plays the best character on it. He has to confront his sexual identity and religious identity after falling in love. It’s surprisingly good. He’s a fantastic actor.”
Sam smiled at him, “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk about anything other than work since I’ve met you.”
John chuckled, flushing.
“I’m telling Wyatt you have a celebrity crush,” Sam added.
“Oh, he is very aware.”
“Yeah, well, Mr. Vega’s team called this hospital this morning, according to Nicole, and rumor has it he wasn’t a big fan of our Dr. Walsh,” Steph informed them.
“I am shocked by the news that someone didn’t like Walsh,” Sam drawled sarcastically.
Steph pulled up a video that Nicole had sent her in a text message of Gio Vega cursing profusely as he exited the hospital, his face flushed, with paparazzi snapping photos of him as he spoke in rapid-fire Spanish to his assistant while being escorted into his waiting car.
Someone online had translated what he said and reposted it.
“He’s a self-righteous prick! I’m never coming here again—worst hospital in LA—I swear to…!” The car slammed shut, luckily drowning out whatever else the megastar celebrity had to say about Saint Sierra Hospital and Dr. Walsh.
Steph closed the video and glanced over her shoulder at Walsh. “Video went viral a couple of hours ago. So, I’m assuming that’s why Tanya’s down here.”
John released a long breath. “This isn’t good.
” He flipped off his glasses, rubbing the back of his neck before abruptly straightening, slapping a hand on the counter, and shaking his head.
“Well, I refuse to let this rain on my parade, because I very much intended to end this shift on a happy note.”
John slipped his hand into his scrubs pocket, pulling out two cards. “These are for you.” He handed both Sam and Steph a white envelope.
Steph’s eyes widened in excitement, snatching the card and ripping it open before Sam even had a chance to accept his.
“You’re doing it?” Steph asked, pulling out the card, mouth agape before grinning.
John blushed, “Yes, we are.”
He quickly opened the envelope and saw it was an engagement announcement for Wyatt and him, along with an engagement party date in two months.
Warmth flooded his chest and he reached for John, pulling him in for a hug.
He loved John like family. He saw his dedication and commitment to his patients and the hospital almost immediately upon arriving from Boston.
He had never had a better mentor and colleague.
So, when they had eventually become friends, it felt natural, easy even.
The way he had become friends with Frankie.
The difference was in the type of love he shared for them.
He loved John as an actual best friend.
And he loved Frankie the way John loved Wyatt.
Still hugging him, Sam whispered gruffly, “I’m happy for you, man. I really am.”
John pulled away, tears brimming in his eyes. “I—uh, I was hoping you’d be my best man?”
Stunned, he grinned. “Fuck! Of course!”
Relieved, John let out a breath, wiping away the tears. “Good… good.”
“My turn!” Steph squealed, launching herself into a hug for John. “Whose Wyatt’s best man?”
“His friend from college, Jin. He’s gonna ask Walsh tonight to be a groomsman,” John explained.
“He asked me last night,” Walsh said, striding by toward the locker room, lollipop dangling from his mouth, completely unfazed by whatever Tanya had been saying to him.
“I said yes to the dress, Johnny boy,” he added with a wink.
“Congrats. And thank you for allowing me the honor to stand by your mate.”
“Thanks. Of course.” John glanced at him and back at Tanya. “Everything okay?”
“Oh, peachy,” he drawled.
“Damage control usually means doing less damage, Walsh,” Sam chided.
Walsh flicked his blue eyes to his, their arctic coldness feeling frosty today. “Nothin’ I can’t handle.”
“Can you?” Sam challenged.
Walsh’s chin hitched to the side, gaze narrowing. “One day, I hope to correct your presumptions about me through either a proper conversation like true gents—or…” Walsh stepped forward, looking almost gleeful. “I can show you the way my daddy taught me. It usually involved his fists.”
Sam stiffened.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some carnage that needs my attention,” Walsh grinned once more at John, clasping him on the back before striding off to the staff lockers.
Sam turned to look at John, who merely tilted his head and lifted his hands. “Not my beef. Hopefully you two figure that out before my big day.”
Feathers ruffled slightly from Walsh, he rolled his shoulders and nodded. “It’s not me you gotta be worried about.”
John searched his face, eyes narrowing. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Good. Well, I’m sure when you’re ready, you’ll tell me what’s added the pep to your step this week.”
Sam’s thoughts immediately returned to Frankie. “I think that’ll require a beer or two.”
“Sounds good to me.” John glanced at his wristwatch, then at Steph. “I think Sam just offered to buy us beers.”
“Is that right?” She popped her head up from her charge nurse station, purse already in hand. “Well, what are we waitin’ for? Gio Vega?”
John chuckled, blushing, and Sam, for the first time since Frankie left, laughed.
He spent the next several hours at the Hot Dog Palace bar with John and Steph, and after one too many drinks, told them about his situationship with Frankie. John was surprised but happy, and Steph glowed, telling him how much she had liked Frankie when she had met him a few months ago.
For some reason, their approval pleased him.