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Biting down a laugh, she gave him a nod. “I guess you see every kind of person come through these doors.”
“We do. But at the end of the day the patient is always my number one concern. And when a child is involved, the patient includes their parents. So one word from you, and he’s gone.”
“I get it. Thank you.”
“Dr. Martin? We have an ambulance coming in. Code four.” The assistant was breathless, as though she’d been running.
“I’ve got to go.” Rich gave Meghan a final look.
“Thank you for everything.”
He blinked, his thick lashes sweeping down. “It’s a pleasure. Call me if you need anything.”
She didn’t have his number, but she nodded anyway. He spun on his heels, rushing through a door marked ‘staff only’, the blur of his green scrubs disappearing as it swung closed.
Taking a deep breath, Meghan turned and pushed at the door to the consult room, ready to take her daughter home.
7
It was almost nine by the time Rich walked out of the elevator on the floor of his apartment later that evening. He’d been working for fourteen hours straight, and every muscle in his body ached. All he wanted to do was collapse into bed and let nothingness overtake him, but his brain was too wired to sleep right now.
He glanced at Meghan’s door. Was it too late to knock and check on Isla? He was annoyed with himself because he hadn’t gotten her number.
Why do you need her number, you idiot?
Damn, that sounded like Belle’s voice again. And he needed her number because he wanted to check on Isla, that was all.
Not because he wanted to hear her voice. Or because whenever he got a moment to breathe during his shift, he’d close his eyes and see her behind them.
Rolling his eyes, he laughed at himself. It really had been a long day. Whatever. He knocked softly at her door, and was surprised when she opened it almost immediately.
“Hey. Have you just finished work?” she asked.
There was a huge smile on her face, as though she was delighted to see him. It made his chest do something weird. When was the last time anybody smiled at him like that?
“Yeah. Had to stay on for a while to finish something up.” He didn’t want to talk about the paperwork. “How’s Isla?”
“She’s doing great. Fell asleep early for once. I guess it was all the excitement of her day. She spent about an hour parading up and down with her crutches for Gloria to see. I’ve never seen her so excited to go to school in the morning.” She opened the door a little wider. His gaze dipped, taking in her tight white tank and grey yoga pants. Everything about her looked so soft. So touchable. Christ, he needed to get ahold of himself. She was his neighbor. He wanted her to stay that way.
“You want to come in?” she asked, inclining her head at her apartment.
“Won’t I wake Isla up?”
“A ten ton blast wouldn’t wake Isla up tonight.” She walked into her living room, and he followed, closing her door behind him. Her apartment was smaller than his, and without the ocean view, but it felt warm and welcoming. There were pretty throws on the sofa and chairs, with plump cushions that invited you in. The surfaces were scattered with photographs of Isla, as a baby, a toddler, and at school. He picked one up, studying a younger looking Meghan cradling a tiny Isla to her chest.
“How old were you when you had Isla?” he asked.
“Twenty-one. I’d just finished college when I got pregnant.” She didn’t seem upset at his question.
“And you did it all by yourself?”
A smile ghosted her lips. “Pretty much. Her father wasn’t interested and my parents were difficult.”
He bet they were. “Parents can be that way sometimes.”
“What are your parents like?”
“They died when I was nineteen.”
