Doctor Dearest

“What can I get you guys to drink?” a young bearded bartender asks from the other side of the counter.

“Water for me, please.”

“Gin martini,” Shannon says before turning to Connor. “You want one too, Con? I know you like them.”

Does he?

Who knew?

“No, just water for me. I’ve got early cases tomorrow.”

Shannon boos teasingly and drops her hand on Connor’s arm. “You’re no fun. Oh well, if you change your mind, you can just have a sip of mine.”

She also puts in an order of oysters on the half-shell, which I could usually tolerate pre-pregnancy, but now the sight of them makes me want to hurl. Just as well since I can’t have them anyway.

It’s not that Shannon purposely cuts me out of the conversation—though her body is tilted toward Connor—it’s that I don’t have anything to contribute to the topics they’re discussing: old research projects, faculty members I’ve never met, residency stories. I feel like a third wheel, and the bartender notices.

“Are you all good with water?” he asks when he has a free moment. He has gentle brown eyes and a friendly half-smile. Both are a welcome sight at the moment.

“Oh, yes. Thank you.”

He nods as he cleans up his station. “First time in?”

“No. I’ve been here a lot. I live in Boston.”

“Oh yeah? Normally people who brave the dinner rush are tourists.”

I shrug. “Yeah, it wasn’t exactly my idea.”

He laughs in understanding. “Makes sense. I should have realized most tourists don’t walk around in scrubs. What’d you order?”

“The hot lobster roll.”

It’s my favorite thing on the menu. Bathed in butter and served hot on a toasted brioche bun, it’s impossible not to love.

He nods. “That’s a good one, though I’m surprised you didn’t go for something more daring. Have you had the tuna collar?”

I grin proudly. “I have. It’s really good, but I’m steering clear of raw fish right now.”

Shannon laughs loudly—too loudly, in my opinion—and the bartender catches my cringe.

He chuckles and says, “Here, let me make you a drink on the house.”

“You don’t—”

“Alcohol-free,” he assures me with a wink. “In case you have a case in the morning too.”

He sets off putting different ingredients into his mixer: mint leaves and muddled blackberries, ice, lime, and a dash of cane sugar. He caps the shaker and lifts it over one shoulder to shake it back and forth. The ice clinks around inside the metal shaker then he deftly pours the drink into a tall glass and slides it over to me.

“Let me know what you think.”

I don’t even have to taste it to know it’ll be amazing. Slightly sweet and tart, a perfect blend.

“It’s really, really good. Thank you.”

He nods in appreciation before another customer down the bar catches his attention.

“I think he likes you,” Shannon says with a laugh.

I turn to see that she and Connor are looking over at me now.

“Not that it matters,” Connor says, meeting my eyes.

“What?” Shannon asks, glancing between us. “Does she not go for bartenders or something? I think he’s pretty handsome.”

“Natalie and I are dating,” Connor says with a smile. “It’s new, but…” His eyes narrow. “Serious. Wouldn’t you agree, Natalie?”

I press my lips together, suddenly uncomfortable with the heated way he’s looking at me. And in public, no less.

“Yes.”

“Oh…” Shannon’s demeanor deflates like a balloon. “I didn’t realize.”

Connor chuckles. “Of course. I was going to tell you tonight, but you’ve been chatting away. I haven’t had the chance.”

She blushes a deep crimson red, almost the exact color of my drink.

“I just thought you brought her along to be polite, y’know, as a favor to Noah.”

Now I’m the one blushing. I didn’t realize I was a charity case in her eyes.

Connor frowns. “I’m not sure I follow what you mean, but no, Natalie is here because I wanted you two to get to know each other better.”

Fat chance, I want to say, but instead, I take a sip of my drink and decide to play nice.

It feels better now. Sure, Connor just struck an arrow through the heart of our dinner. Conversation is stilted and awkward, but I’m happy as a clam, which is fitting given our current location.

Shannon excuses herself to go to the bathroom after picking at her plate of food for a few minutes. Connor slides over onto her stool the moment she’s out of sight and kisses my cheek.

“Sorry this is terrible. I should have just not agreed to dinner, but she’s never been like this before.”

“You mean territorial?”

“Yeah, I suppose that’s it. I tried four different times to broach the subject of you and me, but she wouldn’t let me get a word in edgewise.”

“She was too busy trying to figure out how to unzip your pants.”

His eyes narrow and his mouth turns up in a secret smile. “You don’t have to be jealous. She and I only slept together once years ago, and we’re not even that close now. She only reaches out when she’s in town.”