The Doctor Who Has No Ambition (Soulless 9)

I couldn’t hold back the sigh that escaped my lips because I knew what was coming next. I turned my head away and stared at my desk, deflecting the statement as much as possible. “Was. Was a heart surgeon.”

“You clearly don’t want to talk about it, so I won’t ask you anything.”

I turned back to her, surprised by what she said.

“But I Googled you the other night and saw all these articles about your education, how you graduated high school crazy early and finished your surgical residency by the time you were in your early twenties, all the philanthropic work you’ve done in South Africa, the awards you’ve won for your research…”

Now I wondered if everyone else had done the same, if everyone in the building knew I had reached the top and fell to the bottom.

“I don’t understand why you’re here, Dex. You’re meant for such bigger things. I won’t ask why—it’s none of my business, and it doesn’t change my opinion of you. But I hope someday you find your way again.” She ended the conversation by turning back to her computer and moving the mouse on her desk, so the screen lit up once more.

I watched her for a while, appreciating the way she spoke to me, the way she didn’t ask me a million questions that I clearly didn’t want to answer. She gave me space, gave me respect, and that was much better than people interrogating me every minute of the day. “You did great too.”

She turned back to me, her long brown hair shifting slightly with her movement, swaying like a silk curtain.

“Anyone else would have panicked, but you didn’t. You kept the pressure on the wound and called an ambulance while Mrs. Carlton completely lost it. Most people can’t handle intense situations like that—they literally stop thinking and just fall apart. But not you. You made a difference that day too.”

She stared at me for a while before a slight smile moved on to her lips. “I guess working at the medical office prepared me. We didn’t have many emergencies, but they would happen once in a while.”

“You don’t believe in coincidences, right? Then maybe you were meant to be here too. If you weren’t, how long would it have taken someone to call an ambulance? What if they ran away from the gunshot instead of running toward it? Would Mrs. Carlton have been able to do all that?”

She watched me for a while, looking into my face like she saw more than just my features, saw deeper down. There was something about the color of her eyes that was fascinating to me. They were a beautiful green color, but sometimes gray in the right light, and they had a steely appearance that was both kind and hard. “Yeah, maybe we were both meant to be here.”

I sat at the table in the sports bar, my stomach growling because I was starving. There had never been a time when she wasn’t late, so I’d gone ahead and ordered a basket of fries. I munched on them now while I drank from my beer.

Then she walked in, wearing black skinny jeans with boots and a gray sweater. Her heavy satchel was over her shoulder, her dark hair long and down her chest, bouncing as she moved to the table. “Sorry I’m late.” She set the bag on the chair beside her before she took a seat across from me and looked at the fries like they were a Christmas present.

“Are you?” I took a drink as I stared at her.

“Am I what?” She grabbed three fries and shoved them into her mouth like she was ravenous. “Man, I skipped lunch today, so I’m starving. Now I understand why people eat other people when they’re snowed in at a cabin.”

I gently pushed the basket of fries toward her. “Please don’t eat me.”

She rolled her eyes then raised her hand to get the waitress’s attention. “Girl, I love your boots. Where did you get them?” Instead of ordering, they had an exchange about clothes and their shopping preferences.

I pulled the basket of fries back toward me and ate while they talked.

They exchanged numbers and made plans for shopping on the weekend before the waitress walked away.

I stared at her blankly as I kept eating.

“What?” She grabbed the basket and pulled it back to the center of the table.

“Did you order anything?”

She tilted her head back and stared at the ceiling. “Geez, I’m dumb.” She raised her hand to get the girl to return.

Laughing, the waitress came back. “Oh my god, I just realized I didn’t even take your order.”

“That’s how it goes, right?” Daisy said. “When girls talk about clothes and going out, everything else gets put on the back burner. So, I’ll take whatever you’ve got on tap, and I’ll do the monster burger with curly fries. Medium well.” She handed the menu over then looked at me.