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“Did you work sixty hours this week? Let’s not pretend you’re working at Seattle Grace.”

“Seattle Grace doesn’t exist, Mom.”

“What?”

“Seattle Grace. It’s from Grey’s Anatomy, and it doesn’t exist in the real world. Actually, it doesn’t exist on the show anymore. It’s called something else now.”

“Don’t be smart with me, Regan. You know what I mean. You work normal hours at the family practice, and you cover the odd shift at the hospital. You don’t work sixty hours.”

She sighed. Her mother had her there. “You’re right. I think I only clocked maybe fifty.”

“It’s not about the hours.”

“Then what’s it about?” Regan snapped.

“It’s about the fact that you work hard and you’re successful, and I couldn’t be more proud of you for everything you’ve accomplished. But Regan, you do nothing for fun. Nothing for yourself. When’s the last time you went out on a date?”

“I don’t know.” Regan bit her lip and seriously reconsidered plan A and tossing her phone. “A few months ago?”

“With who?” Her mother made no effort to hide her disbelief. As it turned out, her mother had every right to be a nonbeliever.

“Look, there’s no one in town who interests me.” She snorted. “Actually, there’s no one in town to date.”

“Ethan Burke is back. He took over his father’s veterinary practice.”

“His voice is nasally.”

“What?”

“His voice. It’s high-pitched or something.”

“Sean McAdams is a good-looking man. A lot of women my age comment on his looks.”

Okay. Ew. The man was a pig. “Mom, he’s thirty years younger than you guys.”

“Doesn’t mean we don’t look.”

“Sean might be good-looking, but he’s a meathead. All he cares about is beer and football.”

“Well, sometimes a man who doesn’t have a lot going on between the ears is a good thing.”

“Good for what?” she asked, eyebrows raised.

“What do you think,” her mother replied dryly.

“Oh God, Mom. I’m so not discussing sex with you.”

“David Smith.”

“David Smith?” Incredulous, Regan had to take a moment. “His skin.”

“His skin?”

“It’s so soft. Have you seen it? His cheeks are smoother than mine. It’s like he never made it to puberty. I don’t even think he can grow facial hair.”

“Regan.” There was that tone. The annoyed one.

“I’m serious. What woman would date a man with nicer skin than hers?”

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