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“That’s true,” he agrees. “I’m glad that you’re handling it... but, still. I worry about it being out there. You know the fuss Dennis put up when you were promoted over him. He’d love to have something like this over you.” He makes a disgruntled sound. “You don’t think he has something to do with the board finding out, do you?”
I shake my head. “I don’t see how he could. We’ve never spoken outside of work, and he has no connection to any of the people in my life that know. Which is an extremely small circle, mind you.”
“True.” Paul is quiet for a moment, considering. “Still. Be careful.”
There’s a guilt pang in my chest over keeping quiet about Mackenzie, but if nothing else, I tell myself it’s for her safety. That helps, but only a little.
“I will,” I assure him. “It’s going to be fine.”
I hope, at least.
“Well, keep me updated,” he urges. “I’m happy to help in any way that I can.”
“I appreciate that,” I say honestly.
“Try not to stress about this. They’d be stupid to let you go regardless of your status. You’re the most brilliant interventional cardiologist that hospital has ever seen. Outside of myself, that is.”
This makes me laugh. “Of course.”
“Talk soon, Noah.”
“All right,” I tell him. “Talk soon.”
I sit at the edge of my bed for a moment after hanging up, blinking wearily out the window near my bed at the setting sun that has nearly disappeared past the horizon. I can officially say that sleep is not going to happen.
?It’s well afterdark when I decide that a day like today deserves a strong drink, nursing a glass of scotch by the hearth of the woodstove in my living room as I lounge in my favorite chair. It’s been about five minutes since I got a text from Mackenzie, and I’ve spent the entirety of that time reading it more than once as I try to decide what to send back. I’m also trying to remember the last time I sent anyone a text that wasn’t work-related or to my mother.
MACKENZIE:Hey, hope you slept well! This is Mack aka Mackenzie aka Dr. Carter. I’ll probably be busy the next couple of days if things keep going like they have been. But you can definitely text me if anything mate-related comes up and you need me. I’m totally down for any espionage-related matters. I forgot to tell you that my yoga session usually runs till noon on Saturdays, but there’s a cafe that I love close to the studio if you want to meet there this weekend. Here’s the address. Let me know ifthat works. Totally ready for our first scheming session.
I think for the dozenth time since somehow miraculously pulling off this whole charade that I could not have picked a worse partner in crime, getting the feeling that Mackenzie Carter is absolutely going to make this entire experience an insufferable one. She’s having entirely too much fun with it, that’s for sure. When I see her again, I should stress once more how detrimental this could be to my career if it goes south.
When I see her again.
I take a slow sip from my scotch glass, letting my phone drop to my lap as I watch the flames dance behind the closed door of the woodstove. I can’t yet rustle up any ideas as to who might have found me out, or why they would report it to the board; I’m not even sure what someone would have to gain from my being let go, but I have been thinking about it. It’s clear to me that it must be a personal matter, of that I am at least sure, which doesn’t narrow things down, given that the general consensus of me in the hospital is that I am intolerable outside of my work.
I take another sip from my glass, silently cursing my luck. Six years. Sixwholeyears of managing to keep my secret while employed at the hospital, only to see it all dissipate with one email. More than that, if you count the years of residency and med school where I started really cracking down on keeping it under wraps. Utterly ridiculous.
I sigh as I pick my phone up, knowing that this is my bed now, and I have no choice but to lie in it—a thought that strangely brings me back to Mackenzie Carter. I read her text again, for the seventhtime now, downing the rest of my glass before I set it on the side table.
ME:I know the place. Does 12:30 work? Does that give you enough time to finish up?
It takes her far less time to answer than it did for me to.
MACKENZIE:That works. How are you doing? Freaking out yet?
This takes me by surprise. Mostly because, like my texting habits, I can’t remember a time when anyone has worried about me in a way that wasn’t related to work or my mother.
ME:I’m fine. You?
MACKENZIE:Oh, you know. It isn’t like this is the first time I’ve had a fake mate boyfriend conspirator. No big deal. I’m an old pro.
My lips twitch.
ME:Right. I suppose it is a good thing that I am in such good hands for my first prevarication then.
MACKENZIE:I know I’m a doctor, but I’m still going to have to insist you use less words that I have to stop and Google.
ME:Noted. I’ll text you tomorrow to check in.
