nodded silently and she started chattering about the printer, re-enacting its malfunction even though I could see the blinking red ‘feed error’ message on the screen.
“I smacked it real good, which usually works, but not this time,” she said. “That damn thing gives me fits.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” I said.
“You are such a doll.” Tracy sat down at the desk and turned her chair to face me. “Are you seeing anyone?”
“Uh . . . ?”
“Oh no, I’m not asking for me!” she said, laughing so hard her ample bosom shook with each note. “I’m married, sugar. And I’m old enough to be your mama. I’m asking for my daughter Shayla. She’s nineteen. Goin’ to college, gonna be a fashion major.”
How could I tactfully tell this woman I had no interest in dating her daughter? Tact wasn’t my strong suit. Neither was dating.
“I’m twenty-six,” I said dismissively. “Nineteen’s too young for me.”
Tracy was about to respond when someone called her name. Thank fuck. I was disassembling the printer, and I had to stay focused so I could remember how to put it back together.
“Duty calls,” she said with a sigh.
I said nothing, hoping to discourage further conversation. All I wanted was to get this printer working again and get back to the furnace problem.
A FAINT LEMON smell greeted me when I opened the door to the room I’d commandeered as my new research hub. I closed my eyes and smiled. It was nice and clean. I’d had two dozen gourmet cupcakes delivered to Domestic along with my request that they fast-track the cleanup of this former storage room, and they’d come through.
I flipped on the light switch and a bright glow filled the room. This was going to work out after all. I’d had my doubts when I first checked out the dusty space crammed full of outdated equipment, but it was perfect. Now I just needed to set things up for tomorrow.
When I stepped further into the room, the lemon smell got stronger and the warm, stuffy air made me wrinkle my nose. The place needed some air. I checked all four plain white walls for a thermostat but couldn’t find one.
Well, hell. It didn’t matter how clean the room was if it felt like a jungle.
Stepping back into the doorway, I took a deep breath and collected my thoughts. My patients wouldn’t be here until ten tomorrow morning. Maybe a simple check of the air vents would fix this. I needed to page Mechanical Services.
OB was quiet tonight. We didn’t have anyone in labor, and that always created a more relaxed mood. And we tried to keep our floor quiet anyway because new moms and babies needed their rest.
I sat down in front of a computer and typed out a message to Mechanical Services. Hopefully, whoever was on call could come right away. I wanted my first research meeting to go well tomorrow, and I didn’t want my patients fainting with the heat. Pregnant women were always hot, even under the best of circumstances.
Since I was sitting at the computer, I couldn’t resist the urge to check my e-mail. Not surprisingly, there was nothing exciting there. A shipment notification for some shoes I’d ordered, several ads, and a reminder from my gynecologist that it was time for my annual pelvic exam.
I shook my head and blew out a breath. That was going to be the most action I’d had between my legs in quite a while. More than ten months, but who was counting? And even then, it’d been perfunctory sex with Dean and I hadn’t even gotten off. It’d been well over a year since I’d had decent sex.
“Dr. Drake?”
The sound of a deep voice made me look up. Was the clenching of my lady parts due to my thoughts about sex, or him?
Him, I decided as my gaze wandered from his dark, close-cropped hair to his chiseled cheekbones and dark eyes. He wore a gray button-down shirt with short sleeves that gave me a view of the lines of his biceps. On one pocket was a patch that said ‘TMC Mechanical Services.’ And on the card hanging
“I smacked it real good, which usually works, but not this time,” she said. “That damn thing gives me fits.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” I said.
“You are such a doll.” Tracy sat down at the desk and turned her chair to face me. “Are you seeing anyone?”
“Uh . . . ?”
“Oh no, I’m not asking for me!” she said, laughing so hard her ample bosom shook with each note. “I’m married, sugar. And I’m old enough to be your mama. I’m asking for my daughter Shayla. She’s nineteen. Goin’ to college, gonna be a fashion major.”
How could I tactfully tell this woman I had no interest in dating her daughter? Tact wasn’t my strong suit. Neither was dating.
“I’m twenty-six,” I said dismissively. “Nineteen’s too young for me.”
Tracy was about to respond when someone called her name. Thank fuck. I was disassembling the printer, and I had to stay focused so I could remember how to put it back together.
“Duty calls,” she said with a sigh.
I said nothing, hoping to discourage further conversation. All I wanted was to get this printer working again and get back to the furnace problem.
A FAINT LEMON smell greeted me when I opened the door to the room I’d commandeered as my new research hub. I closed my eyes and smiled. It was nice and clean. I’d had two dozen gourmet cupcakes delivered to Domestic along with my request that they fast-track the cleanup of this former storage room, and they’d come through.
I flipped on the light switch and a bright glow filled the room. This was going to work out after all. I’d had my doubts when I first checked out the dusty space crammed full of outdated equipment, but it was perfect. Now I just needed to set things up for tomorrow.
When I stepped further into the room, the lemon smell got stronger and the warm, stuffy air made me wrinkle my nose. The place needed some air. I checked all four plain white walls for a thermostat but couldn’t find one.
Well, hell. It didn’t matter how clean the room was if it felt like a jungle.
Stepping back into the doorway, I took a deep breath and collected my thoughts. My patients wouldn’t be here until ten tomorrow morning. Maybe a simple check of the air vents would fix this. I needed to page Mechanical Services.
OB was quiet tonight. We didn’t have anyone in labor, and that always created a more relaxed mood. And we tried to keep our floor quiet anyway because new moms and babies needed their rest.
I sat down in front of a computer and typed out a message to Mechanical Services. Hopefully, whoever was on call could come right away. I wanted my first research meeting to go well tomorrow, and I didn’t want my patients fainting with the heat. Pregnant women were always hot, even under the best of circumstances.
Since I was sitting at the computer, I couldn’t resist the urge to check my e-mail. Not surprisingly, there was nothing exciting there. A shipment notification for some shoes I’d ordered, several ads, and a reminder from my gynecologist that it was time for my annual pelvic exam.
I shook my head and blew out a breath. That was going to be the most action I’d had between my legs in quite a while. More than ten months, but who was counting? And even then, it’d been perfunctory sex with Dean and I hadn’t even gotten off. It’d been well over a year since I’d had decent sex.
“Dr. Drake?”
The sound of a deep voice made me look up. Was the clenching of my lady parts due to my thoughts about sex, or him?
Him, I decided as my gaze wandered from his dark, close-cropped hair to his chiseled cheekbones and dark eyes. He wore a gray button-down shirt with short sleeves that gave me a view of the lines of his biceps. On one pocket was a patch that said ‘TMC Mechanical Services.’ And on the card hanging
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