Page 309 of The Doctors Will See You Now

Harlow: Okay, now you’re really asking two separate questions. Because, yeah. I guess I like you most of the time. But, yeah, you’re definitely annoying.

Me: I don’t know what to think about that.

Harlow: Well…then I guess that’s fair, Scotty. Because most of the time, I don’t know what to think about you.

Christ, that felt like a major admission. But maybe I’d read that wrong…

Harlow: Bleeding all over your text message here…

Okay. Maybe I didn’t read it wrong.

Me: I don’t know what to make of you either. I do know I keep coming back for more.

Harlow: Sigh…ditto.

I put my phone back in my pocket and leaned back into the sticky leather of the disgusting cab seat. And then I tried not to think about how disgusting the seat was. Luckily, with all the swirling thoughts in my mind about Harlow, it wasn’t too hard to distract myself.

I felt out of my depth. I’d never felt this kind of draw to a woman before, and quite frankly, had never expected I would. But I’d definitely figured that if I were to eventually like someone with any real interest one day, they’d feel the same way back.

The uncertainty about how she felt about me was torture.

The cabbie blew his horn sharply, and my head flew up from its resting place to see that we’d stopped.

“We’re here,” he said, once again impatient. I was starting to wonder what I’d done to this guy. Taxi drivers in New York weren’t exactly the friendliest best friends ever, but rarely, if ever, did I annoy them this much.

Maybe because you’re turning into the same mindless guy who gets lost in thought about a woman constantly instead of keeping his fucking shit together.

I glanced two storefronts up to see that we were, indeed, there. Hopping out quickly, I tossed him the fare plus a little tip—smaller than usual because, yeah, thanks for nothing, asshole—and jogged through the drizzle to get inside.

Hopefully, the weather cleared up in a couple of hours like it was supposed to so that Harlow and I could enjoy our walk.

As soon as I made it inside the door, I hit bodies. The place was packed as always, but the food was worth it. Not to mention, they still actually took reservations, something I couldn’t say for very many good places in the city.

Pushing gently through the crowd until I made it to the hostess station, I lowered my voice. “I’m meeting Pamela Lockhead, plus one more.”

I almost rolled my eyes at all of this cloak-and-dagger stuff, but she’d given me specific instructions that they didn’t use the mayor’s name on reservations for obvious reasons.

I just couldn’t believe I, Scott Shepard, had reason to be meeting with someone important enough to have a hidden identity.

“Of course,” the hostess said, her eyes flashing with recognition for me—another thing I’d never get completely used to. “Right this way.”

We stepped away from the podium and weaved our way through tight tables to the back of the space behind an almost partition that gave at least the illusion of privacy. But the truth was, the whole restaurant was no more than fifteen hundred square feet at most, and probably every fucking body in there would be able to hear every word we spoke—if they wanted to.

“Here we are,” the hostess said as we made it to the table and both Pam and the mayor stood to shake my hand. I reached to take the mayor’s first just to avoid awkward physical contact with Pamela for as long as possible, when the hostess put a soft hand to my arm and interrupted.

I turned my gaze directly to her as she spoke. “I’m so sorry to interrupt. I just wanted to say, Dr. Er…Dr. Shepard…that…I love you on the show.” She blushed a little. “You’re always so much fun, but I can really tell you’re invested in the patients too.”

I smiled. Sometimes I forgot the last episodes of the show were still airing. I’d stopped watching around the fifth one. I knew all I needed to about how they were trying to portray me, and I didn’t have anyone to prove anything to.

Though, it’d be nice if the mayor took me seriously today.

Trying to speed things up, I did my best to be gracious but brief. “Thanks. I’m really glad you’re enjoying it. Never hesitate to say hello if you see me out in the city.”

She giggled. “Oh, you bet. I definitely will.”

“Thanks, Alyssa,” the mayor said, clearly knowing her by name and clearly dismissing her. My eyebrows pulled together, but I shook it off and took his still extended hand.

“Scott,” he greeted. “Nice to finally meet you.”