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He looked up, his eyes tired. ‘Hey, yourself.’ He pushed away the laptop in front of him. ‘How many did you deliver today?’
She smiled. ‘Just the one. And she was very obliging and perfect in every way.’
She crossed the room and stood next to him. ‘When was the last time you ate?’
He didn’t really meet her gaze. For the last few weeks they’d been like ships passing in the night, both of them so busy that there hadn’t been time to sit down together, let alone to eat.
She cracked a smile. ‘I don’t know, you invite a girl here, get her to work, cover all the shifts, and you can’t even buy her dinner?’
He met her gaze. He knew she was teasing him. She gave him a nudge. ‘Come on, Mr Cool. Lien and Joe are covering tonight. Joe might have suggested we get out of here for a bit.’
‘He did?’
She nodded. ‘I think they worry. Come on, there must be somewhere good around here you can take me. Can’t remember the last time I had a good dinner.’
For the briefest second she thought he might try and make some kind of excuse. But he shook his head and stood up, lifting his jacket from the back of the chair. ‘Tell me what you want to eat.’
She closed her eyes for a second, imagining her dream dinner. ‘Fish. Sea bass if it’s available anywhere around here.’
He looked at her burgundy scrubs. ‘I know just the place, but you’d better get changed.’
She wrinkled her nose and stretched out the leg of her scrubs. ‘What, you don’t like the colour?’
He shook his head. ‘Come on.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘I’ll call and make us a reservation. Can you be ready in half an hour?’
‘Race you.’ There was a glint in her eye. He wanted to laugh out loud. Whenever they’d worked together it had been a standing joke that you didn’t want to be in Viv’s way when she was racing to the hospital canteen. It seemed that nothing had changed. He smiled. There was something about the familiarity that spread a warm feeling throughout him. Viv was the last real person he had a connection to—a connection that felt as if it counted. As he turned to close the door to the office the paperwork on the desk caught his eye.
Out of nowhere a thought shot into his head. Routine hospital paperwork included the patient giving their next of kin. His skin prickled. He’d only had a few hospital admissions his entire life. A few stitches as a kid. A broken wrist. It didn’t matter that he’d been an adult for years and had never needed to name a next of kin. But if he needed to, who would he name now?
Vivienne. Her name washed through him. Now his next of kin would be Vivienne. There was no one else. As he pulled the door closed another thought crossed his mind—one he’d never considered before. For as long as he’d known her, Vivienne had had no close relations. So who did she name?
* * *
She stepped out of the bedroom after pulling the sides of her hair back with a delicate clasp that Lien had loaned her.
Duc made a noise just to her left. She spun around and looked down. ‘What? Is there a mark on it?’
He had a strange expression on his face. She’d grabbed one of the few nicer pieces in her wardrobe. She’d only ever worn it once before. A red knee-length, off-the-shoulder fitted dress. It hugged her curves, the thick red lace bonded over a perfectly matched lining.
She slid her feet into her heels. The only jewellery she was wearing was her butterfly pendant. Her fingers went to her neck. She knew it didn’t really match, but she didn’t like to take it off.
Duc was still staring at her. He’d changed into dark trousers, a white shirt and a matching dark jacket. ‘What’s this?’ she joked. ‘The James Bond look?’
His eyes were wide. She’d moved over right next to him. She glanced down again self-consciously. ‘What is it?’ She twisted from side to side, trying to see if there was a split in one of her side seams.
It was almost as if Duc had been in a trance. He blinked and shook his head, a smile dancing at the edges of his lips. ‘I’ve never really seen you in real party gear. It suits you. You should wear it more often. Just like the business look the other day—you almost scared me.’
She lifted her eyebrows. ‘The business look? Duc, those are my interview clothes.’ She gave a half-shrug, then a little nod of her head. ‘To be honest, they’ve been pretty lucky. I’ve got every job I’ve ever gone for in that outfit.’
He laughed. ‘You’d get every job in that red dress too. Where have you been hiding that?’
She ran her hands across her stomach, smoothing down the fabric. ‘I saw it in a shop window, walked in and bought it. I never even tried it on—to be honest, I’m lucky that it fitted.’ She gave a sigh. ‘I bought it out of spite really.’
‘Spite?’ Now he was intrigued. ‘What do you mean?’
She held up one hand to her hair. ‘I’m a redhead, you might have noticed, and I spent my entire childhood with people telling me I couldn’t wear red—no matter how much I liked the colour—that it just didn’t suit me. So, I saw the dress, had just been paid, and decided I was buying it.’
He gave her a soft smile.
‘Well, from where I’m standing, it was a good decision. A great decision.’ He lifted a hand a tugged a little strand of her hair forward. ‘Your hair’s a dark red, it’s dramatic. It suits it perfectly.’
She looked up into his dark eyes. Duc didn’t normally give her compliments—they were more the type of friends to constantly spar with each other. This felt...different. For the first time she wasn’t quite sure what to say.
He tilted his elbow out towards her. ‘Shall we?’
She grinned. ‘I’d love to.’
As they reached the door, he grabbed her coat. ‘Did you put on your mosquito repellent?’
She rolled her eyes at him. ‘Of course I did.’
He gave a nod. ‘Still, better cover up. Your dress is gorgeous, but for the mosquitos you show too much skin.’
She sighed and slipped her hands into the coat, fastening it up to the neck. ‘By the time we reach the restaurant I will be a humid mess.’
He shook his head. ‘Don’t worry, it’s not far.’
They walked across the grass, through the hospital, and out into the main street.
There was something nice about getting away from the hospital. They’d rarely left the premises together since they’d got here.
Duc pointed out some of the local places to Viv. ‘It’s been five years since you were last here. This is the place the food cart stops during the day. It has the best noodle soups, like h? ti?u—the pork base with noodles—and bún riêu—the crab and tomato broth—which are the nicest. Then there’s bánh mì, with freshly baked baguettes that just melt in your mouth. But remember, most street food vendors here change their menu every day. Try and make it when the ch? giò—the crispy spring rolls—are on.’
Vivienne was rapidly trying to store all the words in her brain. ‘You know I have been walking around here, finding my own favourite places.’
‘You have?’ He looked surprised.
‘Of course I have.’ She laughed. ‘I’m a big girl. I get out and about. I’ve lived in ten different cities. I’ve learned to find the best food.’ She laughed again. ‘You know food’s my priority. It’s almost like I have an inbuilt antenna. But I might need to make a few notes in my phone.’
