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“The hard part is bringing out the worst in him without making it look like I was the cause.”
“Ah, your plan is to manipulate him to lose his control in public, yet you avoid all blame, the perfect angel, innocent as driven snow,” she confirmed.
“Yeah. Pretty much.”
“Good. Glad we agree. Now start humming.” Eliza handed him the elephant back, secure that her devious gene had survived into the next generation.
Chapter 12
Attn: Your presence is required at the Kandal-Varma Residence on Sunday at 8 p.m. sharp for dinner and drinks for MetroGen Couples night. No board games. No movies. Just fun for all. Respond with affirmatives and any dietary requests.
Chapter 13
“Is that grin because of me? I hope it is,” Michael asked Angela, lying under the covers of their bed in her rowhouse.
Angela slid on a pair of silky panties and swept a pile of review books stacked on scrubs to the side to locate the handle to her dresser. “Of course it’s about you.”
“Is it? This is the smiliest I’ve ever seen you post call.”
“Other than the time you got a BJ in the laundry tunnels?” Angela didn’t stop smiling, wrenching the drawer open.
“We were still on call, technically. So, the smile?”
“Your mouth today made me smile,” Angela said. He’d woken her up from her Sunday post-call nap in the most delicious way possible.
“Yet you aren’t climbing back into bed for round two?”
“Three,” she corrected him and untangled a rather intricate, strapless brassier Stella Magi had encouraged her to purchase. This one had boning and plenty of underwire to hold Angela’s D-cups in place. Ideally, it would also disguise the significant amount of attention her nipples had just received from Michael. “Help me out here.”
Her husband, nude, climbed out of bed to fasten the hooks in the back. Then he leaned forward to place a kiss on the nape of her neck and whisper, “I can imagine pairing this with the dog collar and thong.”
She playfully shoved him away. “Which would make us very late to the dinner party. Besides, if I add the thong, you’d probably forget how to use full sentences around my friends.”
“Your friends are destructive tornadoes. I’m lucky I ever get a full sentence in ever.”
“Hilarious and untrue. You’ve earned their respect, and you’ve never had to worry about stage fright when taking on attendings.” She marched toward the closet, aware of his gaze following her. “Cocktail dress is probably overdoing it. What do you think about this one?”
“That it’ll look great on the floor.” Michael pretended to grab for the pink sundress she held up, and she snatched it away. “The smile is about your excitement over the dinner party?”
Angela dropped the dress over her head, wiggling into it. “Guess you’re right. It’s the start of a new era, because I’m practically a different person from last year.”
“You were a beautiful kick-ass cardiologist last year.” Michael zipped the dress up and straightened the skirt over her hips, taking care not to put his hands in more places that would sidetrack them again.
“Or a big tornado of a mess. I count myself lucky the girls stood by me the whole time.”
“Are these the same friends who I said were actual tornadoes, or did you find other friends I haven’t met yet?” He kissed her hand before pushing the pile of scrubs in the other direction on the dresser to reach his drawer for underwear.
“Says the man whose friends brought an animatronic sex doll to labor and delivery.”
“That was just Raj, and he’s having enough success with the ladies that it’s probably gathering dust in a closet.” Michael started hunting for pants.
“He insisted it was an honest mistake, unlike me. A year ago, I was sure I was such a failure at romance after getting dropped by my fiancée that I told some guy I was a teacher. A lie that I kept up for months. When I wasn’t lying about my job, I hid under huge scrubs, was worried I’d suck as a cardiologist, and took a ton of bullshit from Bradly Pegg. Pick your favorite Angela mistake.”
“I’m only hearing you gaining more confidence in yourself, and not Sheryl Crow.” Michael found his dress pants hanging on the back of the door next to a chart of muscarinic and nicotinic receptor medications.
“It’s more than confidence. I rocked first year and stomped on Pegg a few times. The girls made me not a fashion victim. Even better, I married this brilliant medical student on the verge of crushing Step 2 on his way to a bright future in residency. Why not be excited to show my friends how not messy I am?”
Michael grabbed an undershirt off the top shelf of the closet, trying to shake out the wrinkles. “Your friends have never doubted you or judged you about it.”
