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Gratefully, the hangover gods were kind to me the next morning. I credited the water I’d glugged before bed. But Addison hadn’t enjoyed the same fate. She sat down at her kitchen table, visibly grateful for the Motrin I put alongside her coffee and toast.
“Bless you. How did we drink the same amount, and you are fine while I’m ready to throw myself in front of a bus to stop my head from pounding?”
“You did two shots toward the end of the evening that had regret all over them.” I couldn’t do another shot without puking and had begged off by that point.
She giggled, grabbing her head from the effort. “Let that be a lesson to me.”
“You can go lie down. My feelings won’t be hurt.”
She waved me off. “No way. I only get you for another day which means I need to rebound. At the very least we need to go through the profiles the matchmaker sent me.”
“Thumb through photos of hot guys and judge them accordingly? You bet.”
We spent the next hour flipping through profiles and making a short list of potential dates for Addison. Truth be told, it was fun, and I found myself open to the idea of doing the same. Hell, if I moved to a new city, it could be the perfect way to meet someone.
As a matter of fact, my interview in San Francisco was set for next Monday, my day off. I hoped I could count on a great recommendation from Dr. Marshall.
On Tuesday morning, I walked into the office to meet with him. While he sat behind a battered desk straight from the eighties, I took the visitor’s chair.
“I hear good things about you, Dr. Morrison. Patients have been happy to have you, and Meredith gave a glowing report on your delivery of her baby.”
The stodgy man had paid me more compliments than my mother ever had. “I appreciate you saying so. You’ve built up an impressive practice which made it easy to fit in.”
His chest puffed up. “Thank you. What did you want to see me about?”
“I’d like to request a letter of recommendation.”
His bushy brows knitted together. “You already have another job interview?”
“Yes, next Monday in fact.”
“I’ll have a letter typed up by Thursday. What practice are you interviewing with?”
“Dr. Loriano’s Bay Area Women’s Group. They work out of SF General.”
He nodded. “Reputable group. Is your heart set on the Bay Area?”
“No, but I’m exploring all options.”
“And what if one of those options was to stay here permanently?”
“Is Meredith not coming back?” She hadn’t said anything, but why else would he ask me to stay?
“She definitely is, but it’s time to expand and hire another obstetrician. Of course, I’d have you only doing office appointments. No more house calls.”
My inclination was to defend Lucas’ model. “House calls offer a level of care for some patients they wouldn’t get in an office setting.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t care about the level of care so much as the right kind of PR for the practice. I don’t mind growing home visits for celebrities and well-known athletes, but for these elderly patients, why bother? They’re hardly going to be long-term clients if we get them in their eighties or nineties. Better to focus on younger families who will need decades of care. Especially families who can raise the profile of our practice. As for obstetrics, we already have Meredith doing house calls. No need for another.”
Was Lucas aware of Dr. Marshall’s plans for the practice? I doubted it. He cared far more about the level of care than who was who. And if anything, his sweet spot was with the older patients. They knew it and adored him. “I see.”
“By all means, take your interview. I only ask you keep this conversation and offer confidential.”
Swallowing hard, I forced the words through my lips. “Of course.”
Completely preoccupied, I walked out of his office. Could I stay in LA? Absolutely. Could I stay in a practice where I’d been sleeping with a fellow doctor? That was a soft maybe. In any case, I vowed to make my next career decision completely independent of my thoughts regarding a certain hot doctor. It was my career, and I refused to let anyone else weigh in on it.
In many ways, the most troubling part of the conversation was Dr. Marshall’s plans to market the home visits only toward celebrities and top athletes. Lucas would disagree entirely. He was about the quality of care, not about a person’s profile and what they could do for PR.
