Emily nodded. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go check my other patient.”
Lucas watched her walk across the room. Just as she made it to the door, he stopped her. “Go to dinner with me, Emily.”
He hadn’t known he was going to ask her, but more than anything he wanted her to say yes.
“I can’t,” she told him. “I already have plans.”
“With the pharmacist?”
Not meeting his gaze, she nodded.
“Will you understand if I don’t say to have a good time?”
Her gaze lifted to his. “Not really.”
He sighed. “Go, Emily. Have a good time. The best.”
* * *
Emily didn’t have the best time. Richard was quiet, sulky, wanting her to pay penance for having dinner with Lucas the night before. She kept having to remind herself that Richard wasn’t the problem. Lucas was.
She smiled across the dinner table, forced herself to listen to him recount a story one of his pharmacy customers had told him that day. She hadn’t had to force herself to listen to Lucas the night before. She’d soaked up every excited word he’d said. He’d talked with such passion about his career, about the new procedure and the research he planned to do at Children’s.
“Emily?” Richard cleared his throat loudly. “I asked what you thought about that.”
“Sorry.” She was even more sorry because she had no clue what he was referring to. No matter as he launched back into another recount of the tale. Emily tried to remain attentive to what he was saying, but instead her thoughts drifted back to Lucas.
Where was he? Still at the hospital or had he perhaps made plans with someone else?
Why had he asked her to go eat? They’d worked together amicably enough that day. She hadn’t run off when he’d shown up on the unit, which was what she gathered his purpose in buying her bachelorette date had been. What would be the point in going to eat a second time?
Her phone buzzed in her purse that sat in the chair beside her. While keeping her gaze trained on Richard, she slid the purse into her lap and removed the phone. With a quick swipe of her finger she opened the screen, glanced down and hit the message button. She didn’t recognize the number, but she knew who the message was from.
You look bored.
How do you know? she typed back.
Just hungry and ended up at the same place as you.
Hard to believe that’s coincidental.
Yet it is.
“Emily, am I boring you?”
She glanced up at the man across the table from her. “Sorry, I had a message I needed to answer.”
“Work?”
Heat flooded her face. “Yes, someone from work.”
Oops. Sorry. Someone looks upset. Guess I better quit bothering you.
Yes, you should.
You should have said yes when I asked you to dinner.
Why?