Dr. Fake It - A Possessive Doctor Romance - Page 51

I smirked and shook my head. “Careful, Richard.”

“I’m just saying, this marriage thing? It’s bullshit. Nobody changes that much overnight. Nobody.”

“Okay, that’s enough.” Wayne stood up and got in front of me, probably ready to break up a fight. “Richard, you’re flagged and the night hasn’t even started in earnest yet.”

“Just saying what you’re all thinking.” He glared at me then stared back at his drink.

“It’s fine,” I said to Wayne, patting his shoulder. “We all know Richard’s washed up already. Let him drown himself in that glass.” I turned away and walked toward the ballroom.

I felt Erica catch up with me. She slipped her hand through my arm and leaned against my side as we stepped through the two main doors that led into the wide open space. “What was that all about?” she asked as we navigated between tables and skirted the dance floor, heading toward a table in the front corner.

“Richard doesn’t like me.”

“No kidding.” She chewed her lip. “All that about the nurses, though. Is that even a little bit true?”

I glanced at her. “It was more than an exaggeration. I’ve slept with a few of the nurses, I won’t lie to you about that, but he makes it sound a lot worse than it is.”

She nodded and looked at me thoughtfully. “I like your friend Dean. And the other two seem okay.”

“They’re not bad.” We reached the table and sat down. “For doctors, anyway.”

She laughed and we sat together as the room slowly filled. I wasn’t sure what the hospital had in store for the evening, but old women in fancy gowns escorted by rich old men in luxurious tuxedos began to pack the space, milling about, talking about their investment portfolios, talking about how the city wasn’t what it used to be, and whatever else rich old people loved to talk about. I noticed Erica staring around her with a strange, bemused look on her face, like she could barely believe where she was.

“Ever been to something like this before?” I asked her.

She snorted. “Not even a little bit.”

“I figured. You haven’t missed anything, you know.”

She smiled a little and watched the room. Waiters came around with champagne glasses and she finished her first drink then snagged another. Hors d’oeuvres followed, fancy finger foods that even rich men would gladly shove down their throats, and it always seemed a bit odd to me to serve such unhealthy food at a gathering of doctors.

But it didn’t matter. After a bit, as the room became full and the other young doctors filtered in, I stood and waded into the crowd with Erica on my arm. We introduced ourselves to other couples, smiled and shook hands, talked about the hospital and all the cutting edge things we were doing, casually mentioned how much money we needed to keep saving lives—and basically kissed rich people ass for about an hour.

Erica got quieter and quieter as the night wore on. I couldn’t tell what she was thinking, but it was clear that she wasn’t having fun. Not that she was being a downer—in fact, she was quite charming, and I could tell that the rich old men were taken with her, even if the old ladies weren’t as interested. I was proud to have her on my arm, but I could tell something was weighing on her.

After a second hour, the hospital administrator got up in front of the room to give some speech. I took the opportunity to grab Erica by the hand and pull her along behind me toward a side door. A waiter came through carrying a tray for empty glasses, and I caught the door and hustled her through into a back tunnel that led toward the kitchens.

“What are you doing?” Erica asked.

“Come on, this way.” I pulled her along behind me, past some waiters standing around and smoking who smiled and nodded, past guys washing dishes, past a group of women opening bottles and filling glasses, until we reached a door marked Emergency Exit Only. I shoved the door and stepped out into the night.

It was a tight alley, dark cobblestones on the ground, brick wall ten feet across from us. A nearby dumpster overflowed with trash and the smell of waste and dumped liquor wafted in the air. I kicked a crate over until it propped the door open, then walked out into the alley.

Erica lingered near the door. “Why are we out here?”

I shrugged and leaned up against the opposite wall. “We always come to this same hotel and this same ballroom, did you know that?”

“I had no clue.”

“Always this same place. I think the admin gets a discount or some shit. But I found this spot last year, and I come out here when it gets to be too much in there.”

Tags: B.B. Hamel Romance
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