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I look at Carlo once more before heading for the door. I make sure to drive as carefully as possible as I head for the hospital. Despite how kind he’s acting, I don’t doubt Carlo would murder me if something happened to his car.
Okay, murder might be an exaggeration. I don’t think he’d ever actually hurt me. But he’d definitely be pissed.
As soon as I arrive at the hospital, it’s pretty clear it’ll be one of those days. The days that make me love being a doctor. We’re swamped with patients and I spend the first half of the day taking care of little kids with varying degrees of ailment. A broken foot, second-degree burns, cuts to be sewn up. I’m so consumed that I barely think about anything else. Finally, lunchtime rolls around and I get a break.
I practically drift across the hallways of the hospital. Until I’m accosted by a five-foot-three woman with blonde hair and blue eyes.
“Nora!” I yell when she pulls my arm.
“We’re going to the cafeteria to get some coffee and food. And then we’re going to talk.”
I don’t argue as she drags me there. She sits me down at an empty table before grabbing us some coffee. She returns to the table, blue eyes fierce.
“Drink,” she orders.
I obediently gulp down some of my coffee.
“Now, tell me how it is you came about to be dating Carlo D’Angelo. Because I don’t believe it for a second.”
I open my mouth to tell her the story we fed our parents and then I shut it. With a small sigh, I ask, “How do you even know who he is?”
“His family’s pretty notorious.”
“Right,” I say.
I always forget about the D’Angelos’ popularity, which is not for the right reasons. I guess when you’re in my world, you learn to be desensitized to that sort of thing. Before I knew Carlo, I judged him by what I had heard, as well. But he’s so much more than that.
“Any reason you’re supposedly dating a murderer?”
I wince. “Don’t call him that.”
Nora shrugs. “Hey, I’m just saying. You’re a doctor. Shouldn’t it be against your code of ethics to even be associated with someone like that?”
“It’s not that simple, Nora. Stop being so judgmental.”
She murmurs something under her breath. “Well? I’m still waiting to hear how you two got together.”
I really should start feeding her all the lies, but something stops me. I’ve never been great at making friends, and after what happened to me in college, I stopped trusting people altogether, keeping everyone at arm’s length. But Nora and I have known each other for three years, and she has been nothing short of a good friend to me. She’s dependable and fierce and I honestly need someone to talk to.
“It’s not a real relationship,” I confess.
Her mouth hangs open. “I’m sorry. What?”
I quickly explain my arrangement with Carlo and how it began. It takes a few minutes for Nora to comprehend my words, but then she’s leaning back in her chair, shock evident on her face.
“Huh. It makes sense, actually. No way you’re actually dating such a stuck-up man. And since you’re not dating him, I can confidently say he’s a rude ass. He seems intimidating and not your type.”
“Well….” I trail off.
“What? Is he your type?” she questions, surprised.
I sigh. “I was getting to that bit. Things have been growing complicated.”
“Define complicated,” Nora prompts.
“Last night, we, uh, slept in the same bed together. And this morning after we had breakfast, I’m pretty sure he was about to kiss me. The lines are getting blurred and I’m not sure what’s going on.”
Nora’s expression turns a little pitying. “Oh, sweetie, you definitely should have come to me before getting into a fake relationship. Those are almost always doomed for failure.”
