This made him laugh. “Have you eaten? Working nights always makes me hungry,” he said, taking another bite of his wrap.
“I just ordered some roasted corn grits and guac. It’s too late for much more than that, and I don’t plan on hanging out.”
Early night. That was good. Less time for her to dance with one of the many regulars who could see her in that skirt.
“Would you call me when you get home?” he asked, pushing his luck.
“No,” she said, but he could tell that she was trying not to laugh.
“Why not?” he teased. “I called you.”
“Big deal. You want a prize?”
“Yes, actually,” he said, matching her snark. “I’d like you to call me when you get home.”
He heard her breath let go, and a murmur followed. “Walked right into that one, didn’t I?”
“Yes, so that settles it,” he declared. He was teasing her, but Lee realized he wasn’t kidding at all. Over the course of about ten seconds, it had become of the utmost importance that she called him when she got home.
His reasons were both selfish and pure. He’d know she was alone. He’d know she was safe. He’d get to talk to her again.
Lee was about to repeat his plea when his phone chimed. But it wasn’t a simple ping or trill. It was Labor and Delivery. Lee knew this because of his selected ringtone for that department.
“Hey Ba-baby. La La La La La La La…”
“What.The hell.Was that?" Wren asked, shock and amusement clear in her voice.
Lee was glad she couldn’t see him blush. “Um… Pitbull? ‘Hey Baby?’" He went on through her laughter, trying to make the best of it, because if she hadn’t been laughing at him before, she was now. “‘Drop it to the Floor’? Featuring T-Pain?”
His absurd answer apparently sent her over the edge. “Oh, my,” she said with no small amount of irony. “If this is a sign of your taste in music, I think our chances of going dancing just vanished.”
“What’s wrong with Pitbull? Scratch that. We’ll argue about music later,” he said, cradling his phone between his ear and his shoulder and picking up his dinner tray. “Pitbull means I have a patient who’s ready to deliver.”
“What?!”Her shriek dissolved in laughter. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Nope.” He snagged the rest of his wrap and the unopened bag of chips before dumping the contents of his tray in the garbage. “Which means I have to get back upstairs. But this changes nothing.”
“What do you mean?” she said, still giggling.
“I mean, you still need to call me when you get home.” Lee left the cafeteria and headed for the elevators.
“But—”
“Wren. Call me." He reached the elevators as one was closing. He stuck his hand between the doors just in time. “Gotta go. Call me.”
But he didn’t hang up. Lee stepped in the elevator and waited.
“But you’ll be delivering a baby.”
“It’s faster than you think,” he told her, watching the doors close. “If Pitbull is paging me, Mama is ready to push. Depending on the nurse, she may have started pushing already.”
“Okay. I don’t want to hear anymore,” Wren said, sounding squeamish.
“Say you’ll call me.”
“Fine, I’ll call you.”
Lee smiled in triumph. “Bye, Wren. Go enjoy your corn grits and guac.”
