Page 84 of The Golden Hour

Not that he’s displeased at all.

“This is bullshit!” Felicia shrieks, her voice cutting through the humid August air. “You can’t do this to me! My father owns half of the hospitals in California! He golfs with the governor!”

“Sucks for you that this is Philly, sweetheart,” TJ, one of the security guards, snickers. “We don’t give a fuck.”

Felicia squawks indignantly.

“Laugh it up, asshole,” Felicia snarls. “You’re nothing but a nobody security guard. What are you paid, fifteen dollars an hour? You’re nothing, and you’ll be nothing.”

“Ma’am, for the love of God, just keep walking,” the other security guard, Miles, grumbles as he and TJ try to get Felicia toward the garage across the street.

Mason turns away, but Honey and Melissa are watching with varying shades of shock. Melissa takes out her phone and points it toward Felicia because she’s definitely going to show his mother this video later. Honey reaches up to cover her mouth in what looks like shock, but from the sparkling in her chocolate eyes, Mason knows she is really hiding a smile.

“Ready?” Mason asks Honey casually.

She glances over at him, an adorable little scrunch between her brows, like she cannot believe he is being casual while his ex-coworker slash professional annoyance is shrieking like a banshee in front of the hospital.

“Mason!”

Mason groans.

Reluctantly, he glances at Felicia, who is trying to get free from their grip.

She looks like a fucking mess.

When you work in emergency medicine, you end up with numerous body fluids covering you by the end of the day, so appearance kind of falls to the wayside for most doctors. But Felicia cared about her appearance at all times. Hair and makeup perfectly done, cloying perfume strong enough to cut through the sterile antiseptic, jewelry glittering from her wrist and neck, scrubs tailored to show off her body.

Mason noticed because he thought she stuck out like a sore thumb, not because he wanted her.

He is honest enough with himself to know he has only ever thought about Honey that way.

It is a bit of an embarrassing scene now, with pedestrians walking down the street and patients and their families milling about to watch a doctor shrieking at another patient and her family. He can feel their gawking and even catches bits and pieces of conversation.

“…is she a doctor?!”

“…oh my God, she’s screaming at a patient…”

“…holy fuck, they have a baby. She’s screaming at someone who just gave birth.”

“Uh… should we go to another hospital?”

“You know what, my ankle isn’t that bad. We can just go home.”

“If this is the service here, I don’t want it.”

“Get me out of here, Dan. These people are fucking whackadoodles.”

“Mason!” Felicia shrieks his name loudly.

Mason winces, the voice like nails on a chalkboard. He takes a step forward and places himself between his wife and Felicia, deliberately facing his wife.

“Let’s get in the car⁠⁠—”

The fact that he turns his back on Felicia only seems to make her angrier.

“You can’t let them do this to me!” she screams, drowning out the sound of TJ and Miles ordering her to stop resisting and stop shouting abuse at patients. “Tell them! We didn’t even fuck! I was just joking with you! Please! Mason! This will ruin me!”

“Come on,” Mason says, leaning down to meet Honey’s pale, shell-shocked eyes. His poor girl looks too overwhelmed now, all humor gone as Felicia’s pitch climbs and becomes more unhinged.