But we were standing in the middle of a hospital corridor, people streaming past, nurses pretending not to listen but catching every word.
Instead, I asked, “You headed somewhere?”
“I have a meeting in about twelve minutes.” Harper glanced at her watch, then back at me. “Walk and talk?”
We fell into step together. Harper was tall enough in her heels that I didn’t have to slow my pace to match hers. She walked close enough to me that I caught her scent, that same vanilla and something warmer that I had noticed last night.
“So who’s making you beg for files?”
“Legal. They started putting up barricades the minute I asked for a complete patient history. They like to preach about proper channels, but we all know they don’t want to hand over anything. Ever.”
“Do they know who they’re dealing with?”
Harper grinned, her face brightening. “They’re learning.”
We walked past the cafeteria entrance. The smells of burnt coffee and steam table food drifted out. A few people glanced at us as we passed—two professionals walking together, nothing unusual about it, except I was hyperaware of how it looked for Harper and me to be walking side by side.
“So, you got big Friday night plans?” I asked, trying to sound casual.
She looked over. A note of curiosity, nothing more. “Tonight? Probably just go home, catch up onReasonable Doubt. Why?”
“That’s your Friday night plan? Just going home?”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“I mean, it sounds kind of depressing.”
Harper laughed, a short, dry sound. “Or relaxing after a long week. You’re saying you have more exciting plans?”
“No, actually. I’m going to do the exact same thing,” I admitted. “I’ll probably go home, eat something out of a container, watch whatever’s on TV until I fall asleep on the couch.”
She gave me a look, her lips twisting. “I was at least going to cook. Your version sounds bleak.”
“It does.” I held the door open for her as we turned into the next corridor. “You want to save me from that?”
Harper stopped cold. We were near the elevators now, people flowing around us like water around rocks. She studied me for a long moment, her expression unreadable.
“Are you asking me to have dinner with you, Dr. Vaughn?”
“I am. Somewhere that’s not a lounge that closes at ten. Where we could talk without a last call.”
She didn’t answer right away. I could see her working it over, turning it around in her mind, a flicker of caution crossing her face.
“You do realize this is a terrible idea,” she said finally. “If anyone finds out?—”
“Then we’ll deal with it.” I watched her, holding my ground. “My life doesn’t stop because some people have questions. I’d like to have dinner with you. Away from all this.”
“What time?”
Relief washed over me. “Seven? Seven thirty? I can pick you up or we can meet?—”
“Let’s meet. Less complicated that way.” Her phone buzzed. She glanced at it and grimaced. “That’s my five-minute warning.”
“Go. I’ll text you the details.”
She started to walk away, then turned back. “Make it somewhere nice.”
“I got this.”
