Page 69 of Grumpy Doctor


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“There has to be another way,” he said, staring up at the ceiling.

I moved up and bit his shoulder gently. He smiled and pulled my hair. I nuzzled against him. “There’s got to be someone willing to help.”

“Someone that doesn’t want to be a part of Caroline and Gina falsifying papers.” His breath was a steady rush of air in my ear. The apartment felt so tiny then, sunk down to the space between us. “The Tippetts won’t care.”

“What about that private investigator?”

He paused, and it sounded like his heart skipped a beat. “He doesn’t have any reason to lie for them.”

“I was kidding. They’re his clients.”

“But he wouldn’t be willing to break the law for them. I mean, would you do a surgery you knew was going to hurt someone, even if they wanted it?”

“No,” she said. “But it’s not the same thing.”

“Maybe it is.”

I sat up on one elbow and looked at him thoughtfully. “You want to approach him.”

“I want to try.” He shrugged and grinned at me. “Want to help?”

“Of course,” I said. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

He wrapped his arms around me and held me tight.

I wasn’t happy that he’d gone behind my back to make a deal with Rees. It felt like shit, actually, that he considered leaving my life entirely.

But as soon as he looked at me with those pleading eyes, so wracked with guilt and desire, I knew I couldn’t hold out for very long.

There had to be another way through this, and if anyone was going to find it, I had to trust it would be him.

28

Piers

“How, exactly, do you plan on finding that private investigator?” Lori asked.

I crossed my legs at the ankle and stretched. Doctors, nurses, and patients bustled past. I got more than a few strange looks, and I probably deserved it—usually, when a doctor got suspended, they didn’t come back and sit outside of the hospital on a bench.

But I’m not just anyone.

Although I did feel strange. There was some small part of me that was actually ashamed to have been suspended—even if it was not my fault at all, and there was nothing I could have done to avoid it. My coworkers didn’t know that, and coming back like this probably looked more than a little weird. In fact, I bet some of them thought I was going to make a scene.

That wasn’t remotely my plan.

“He was hired to follow me,” I said. “I don’t think I have to find him at all.”

She laughed and shifted her body to face me. “So let me understand this. Your whole plan is we sit here until he shows up.”

“Yep, pretty much.”

“Genius. The simplicity is almost too much to handle.”

“I know, I’m pretty amazing.”

She sighed and leaned back, kicking her feet back and forth.

I told her not to wait with me. I figured I’d call her when Theodore showed up, and we could all go talk somewhere private together. She didn’t need to be seen with me right now, but she was insistent, and if I was being honest with myself, I wanted her around.

After everything, it was becoming clear that I couldn’t walk away. Even if it would be better for her. I couldn’t bring myself to do it. She deserved better, of course—deserved a man that wasn’t tainted by whatever political bullshit was happening around me—but she’d made it clear that she had a say in all this, and I wasn’t going to deny her that right.

If she wanted to sit with me, I wouldn’t stop her.

Fortunately, we didn’t have to wait long. I spotted Theodore after about fifteen minutes of hanging around, enduring awkward glances from the staff, and more than one double-take from some of the doctors.

“That’s him,” I said, nodding toward his bland baseball cap mingled in a crowd lining up to cross at a nearby intersection.

“Good thing,” she said. “I’m pretty sure the hospital’s going to send security out to drag you away from here.”

“I’m tempted to go in there and make a scene for real.”

“Save it. Caroline and Gina would thank you, that’d make their jobs easier.”

“Fair enough.” I stood up and held out my hand. “Coming?”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” she said, and I helped her up. Together, we met Theodore halfway down the block. The private eye didn’t seem too surprised to see us there, approaching him in broad daylight. He stopped and stepped aside to allow the flow of pedestrian traffic to keep moving past him unencumbered. We stood in the entryway to a noodle place beneath their awning, the smell of fryer oil and broth sweet and savory and thick in the air.

“I’m glad we ran into you,” I said to him, extending my hand to shake.

He seemed surprised, but took it. “What can I do for you?” he asked.

“I thought we might talk.”

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