Chapter 5
Chapter Five
I feel so out of place here. This seminar is full of a bunch of professionals whose credentials are so numerous, they barely fit on one nametag. But I guess anything will fit on a nametag if it’s printed small enough, as evidenced by the woman I just met. Her credentials— surgeon this and professor that —were printed so small, I couldn’t read them from where I was standing. And my eyesight is pretty damn good, if I do say so myself. Those eyesight tests you do in the doctor’s office? Yeah, I always ace those.
And then there was the guy I met earlier, who had so many letters behind his name, I swear half of them were made up. He didn’t even try to hide his disdain when he met me. Three times during our conversation he asked me where I was from. The first time he asked me, I thought he genuinely didn’t hear me introduce myself, so I repeated it. “I’m Dahlia, a receptionist for Dr. Kim Waters, a chiropractor with Evergreen Chiropractic Care. She had a previous engagement and asked me to fill in.” But when he asked me again, shortly after I got done saying it, I knew something was up. But not to make a scene, I repeated myself, giving him a shortened version. “I’m Dahlia with Evergreen Chiropractic Care.” But then the third time, I knew he was just being a dick because someone who is that smart should be able to remember a conversation as brief as ours. That’s when I walked away and went to the bar to grab a drink, which, I’ve determined, is the only way I’m going to make it through this evening.
As if all that wasn’t bad enough, I chose the wrong outfit for this. I wasn’t aware that every single female in this room owns a powerful pantsuit and decided to wear it tonight. I look like an idiot in my cute, flouncy floral skirt and yellow sweater. What the hell was I thinking?
I ask the bartender for another beer, knowing full well that my beverage choice shows my lack of sophistication. Everyone else here is probably having an old fashioned, a Manhattan, or whatever the hell smart people drink. That’s fine. I still have a job to do, and I need to keep a level head, so I’m sticking with beer. But I’m already on my second one, so these presentations everyone is waiting for need to hurry up and happen, otherwise Kim might not be getting the most coherent notes tomorrow. Does an event like this really need an hour of cocktails? What are people supposed to talk about all that time?
Beside me, a man wearing a plaid button-down shirt and navy tie orders a vodka gimlet and a beer, then takes both over to a corner of the room and sets them down on a table. I follow the man with my gaze because I want to see who might be the only other beer drinker in this room besides me. Are they underdressed for this event too?
No freakin’ way.
My night just got a whole heck of a lot better because the other beer drinker turns to accept his drink and it’s none other than the man I slept with just a few nights ago. The one who broke my dry spell and made me feel like I’m worthy of another man’s attention. It’s fitting that it’s Justin and makes me feel like we’re kindred spirits. I have to go over and say hello.
I stride across the room, a little pep in my step now that I know someone here. I’m halfway there when Justin meets my gaze, and…am I seeing things correctly? Did he really just turn away from me? That can’t be. The guy who texted me almost immediately after dropping me off wouldn’t turn away from me. Would he?
“Justin, hi. How are you?” I say once I reach the table where he’s standing.
Justin’s lips barely turn up, and he looks like he wants to disappear from this space.
Justin’s companion, however, smiles politely at me, then reaches his hand out to shake mine. “Hi, there. I’m Wesley Bennett. Justin and I went to med school together. And you are?”
I notice from Wesley’s name tag that he politely left the fact that he’s a doctor out of the introduction. Maybe he saw my name tag and the lack of credentials and didn’t want to come across as pompous. A nice touch. I reach out my hand to his. “I’m Dahlia, a receptionist at Evergreen Chiropractic Care. My boss asked me to fill in for her tonight since she had a previous engagement.”
Wesley’s eyes brighten behind his square-framed glasses. “You work for Kim? She’s one of the nicest people I’ve ever met. I bet she’s a great boss to have.”
I nod in agreement. “She’s the best boss I’ve ever had. I’m lucky I get to work for her.”
“That’s good to hear. She helped me out with some back issues I had during my first couple years of residency. All the disjointed sleep I was getting was screwing up my back, and Kim helped straighten me out.” Wesley brushes his hand across his lower back like he can still remember the pain. “I don’t remember seeing you there, although it has been a while since I was there last.”
“I’ve only been working for her for the last eighteen months,” I reply.
Wesley takes a sip of his drink, then looks between Justin and me. “And how do you know Justin?”
I look at Justin because I don’t know how to answer that question. Something tells me that blurting out, “We slept together,” wouldn’t be appropriate here. And I don’t know how close he and Wesley are. Maybe they barely know each other and only bumped into each other here by chance, so he doesn’t want Wesley to know everything about his life. Wesley certainly wasn’t the guy at the bar with Justin when we first met, so at least we don’t have to worry about him making a connection between us.
“Dahlia and I met through a friend the other day,” Justin says, finally speaking up.
I nod along because that seems like a perfectly plausible explanation. If that’s the story he wants to run with, I’m all for it. “Yeah, so when I saw him here, I had to say hello again,” I say, smiling brightly.
“How funny that you two would see each other again…here of all places. Small world,” Wesley says.
“Indeed,” I say in agreement.
“Wesley, would you excuse us? I want to talk to Dahlia about some things we touched on the other day,” Justin says, cupping my arm with his hand.
“Absolutely. I want to go and say hi to one of my old professors anyway. Dahlia, it was lovely to meet you, and I hope this isn’t the last we see of each other,” Wesley says.
He’s flirting with me. Wesley is flirting with me and likely has been the whole time, but I’m so out of practice I didn’t pick up on it. I’m flattered because Wesley isn’t bad-looking. Chin-length, wavy brown hair, trim physique. He’s no Justin, but he’s not bad. It’s amazing that now that I’m not saving myself for Alain anymore, I’m able to pick up on these things. God. How many other men have I bypassed because of Alain?
Wesley vacates the area, and Justin and I leave the table, leaving our beers behind which makes my heartbeat quicken. Is he taking me to the bathroom because he can’t wait to have me again? I am wearing a skirt, so it wouldn’t be that hard to make it happen, although Justin’s dress pants and button-down shirt might be more challenging to navigate around.
Alas, no. That’s not where we go. Instead, Justin takes me to a corner of the room, far out of earshot of everyone else.
“What are you doing here?” he whispers to me. But it’s more of an angry whisper, and not at all the reaction I was hoping for.
“Is that really the best you can offer me? Maybe a hello or it’s nice to see you would be better.” Just to show my irritation, I throw a hand on my hip. Justin doesn’t look impressed, and waits for me to continue. “I’m filling in for my boss who asked me to take notes for her. Didn’t you hear me earlier?”
“We can’t be seen together. It’s bad enough that Wesley saw you, but we need to get you out of here before anyone else sees us.” Justin peers around, looking for what? I don’t know.
“What are you talking about? I’m here to do a job. That’s all.”
“This isn’t where I wanted this conversation to happen, but I need you to understand where I’m coming from.”
My stomach twists in knots. Something tells me I’m not going to like what he’s about to say. “You’re making me nervous. Whatever you need to say, just say it, and put me out of my misery.”
His eyes meet mine, and he holds my gaze. “Dahlia, I loved our night together, but that’s as far as it can ever go.”
“What? Why? I thought you couldn’t wait to see me again,” I say, clutching onto that fact for as long as I can. Someone who couldn’t wait to see me again wouldn’t have stayed silent when I texted him last night. But someone who wanted to end things would, probably hoping I would get the hint after a while and stop trying to contact him.
“I did want to see you, and if things were different, I still would. But with the way things are right now, a relationship between us can’t happen.”
“What the hell do you even mean by that?” I say, raising my voice because I’m tired of him beating around the bush.
Justin’s gaze darts around the room to see if anyone heard my outburst, but luckily (for him), we’re so far removed from everyone, no one heard. “You’re a patient, and technically, I’m a doctor at the clinic you go to.”
“So what?”
“It’s unethical. I have access to sensitive information about you, and that puts me in a position of power.”
My head cocks to the side. “What are you saying? You’re going to use my medical history against me?”
Justin’s eyelids snap open. “No! Absolutely not. Once I figured out it was you in the room, I didn’t look at your file. I didn’t want to know that much about you because there might be stuff in there you don’t want me to know.” He runs his hands through his hair, gripping the roots ever so slightly, clearly frustrated by this situation. “But that’s exactly what I’m talking about. I have access to your file, so I could look at it if I wanted to, or if I needed to in the event of a medical emergency. And dating a patient goes against our code of ethics. I can’t risk Dr. Tarlton ever finding out about us. I’d be putting my entire medical career in jeopardy before it even gets started.”
“But it’ll be several years before I’m back there again,” I say, as though that simple statement has solved everything. As long as my Pap test comes back normal, I don’t need to go back for a few years.
“You don’t know that. And by then, I’ll be a doctor in the practice which would still put us in the same predicament.” Justin sighs heavily. “I really hate that it has to be this way, but I don’t see another way around it.”
I swallow down the rock-hard lump in my throat. I will not cry here. I will not cry here, I keep telling myself, hoping like hell that it’s working. I will not shed tears for the only other man I’ve had in my life besides Alain. It was just one night. But why does it hurt so damn bad? “Okay. I guess that’s it then. You won’t hear from me again,” I say with my chin up, feigning bravery.
“Dahlia, I’m so, so sorry.” He reaches out to touch my hand, but I pull it away before he can make contact.
I turn away and find the nearest exit. I came here with a job to do, but there’s no way in hell I’m going to sit through that seminar knowing Justin is near.
“You’re home early,” Fern says when I walk through the door. She takes in my somber expression and bolts off the couch, reaching me before I set down my purse. “What happened?” She takes my hand in hers and leads me over to the couch. Sensing that I might need them, she plucks the box of tissues off the sofa table and sets them on one of the cushions. She takes a seat opposite me.
“I saw Justin at the seminar tonight,” I say, barely getting those words out. Tears well up in my eyelids, and I dab them with a tissue before they can fall down my cheeks.
“And I’m guessing it wasn’t a good meet-up?”
I shake my head. “He doesn’t want to see me again.”
Fern clutches her chest like she can feel my heartbreak. “Why not? I thought you two had hit it off.”
“We did hit it off. But he says it’s unethical since he’s going to be a doctor at that practice. He can’t date a patient.” I blow my nose with a satisfying honk and discard the used tissue on the couch. To get ready for any more tears that may follow, I grab another tissue and keep it in my hand.
She nods in understanding. “That makes sense. He does have access to a lot of very private information about you. And if it were me, I wouldn’t want to be with someone who had access to that. It sounds like he’s doing this to protect you.”
“Funny, because the whole time he was talking, it sounded like he was only looking out for himself,” I say, my words laced with bitterness.
Fern raises a brow. “What do you mean?”
“He kept talking about how he couldn’t risk Dr. Tarlton finding out because of their code of ethics. And that he’d be putting his entire medical career in jeopardy before he’s started it.”
“He’s put in a lot of years to get to where he’s at now, and he’s almost reached the finish line. It’s not easy putting your career at risk for a relationship, and he probably thought it was better to end things now before you guys got really serious.” Fern speaks like she knows all about the struggle between choosing your career and being with someone you love. Because she does. I remember the struggle she went through when Brett started working at the same place she does. Her workplace has a no-dating policy, and they put everything on the line because they felt their love was worth the sacrifice.
I sniffle a few times, then dab my nose with a tissue. “I thought you were supposed to be on my side.”
Fern’s eyes soften. “I am on your side. I’m just trying to get you to see his side so you don’t spend the rest of your life hating him.”
I nod along, staying silent because I don’t have anything more to add. I wouldn’t spend the rest of my life hating him because our relationship barely got off the ground. And if I’m going to start putting myself out there again, I need to get used to having a few hiccups and heartbreaks along the way.
“Don’t let this derail you. There will be other guys. You’re just now putting yourself out there, and if nothing else, this just gives you a chance to meet other people.”
“I know. It’s just that he and I seemed like a good match. I really liked him. But it wasn’t meant to be, I guess,” I say with a heavy sigh. I slump back on the couch, resting my head against the back cushion. Silence spreads between us.
“Are you hungry? There are some leftovers in the fridge that I can heat up for you,” Fern offers.
I shake my head. “I’m hungry, but not hungry enough for dinner.”
“Hungry enough for ice cream?” she asks with a grin.
My stomach lets out an approving gurgle. “Ice cream sounds pretty good right about now. Is it chocolate chip cookie dough?”
She lets out a chuckle. “Is there any other kind?”
“Not in my world.” I get up from the couch and brush down my skirt. “Drowning my sorrows in ice cream sounds like the perfect way to cap off this shit evening. Let me go get changed.”