Page 2 of Hold the Pickle
“Perfectbeachweather.” He grins at me. “If you’re into sand and sea.”
“I am.” I find myself smiling back. Something’s happening here. Holy hotness, I need to live in this complex, stat!
Before I can ask him about the apartments, his phone buzzes. “I apologize,” he says, and he sounds disappointed. Disappointed! “I have to take this. Will I see you around?”
“I hope so!” My voice is a squeak. Oooh, too eager.
But he grins again as he answers the call.
I skip my way to the office manager’s door. I should check myself, but my heart isn’t listening. I’m useless when it comes to possibilities. And that doctor, new to town, already making eyes at me, is definitely a possibility.
It’s a sign. This is where I’m meant to be. Not in New York, working at Pickle Media with my family. Not in Florida at the Dougherty division with my brother.
Here. By the ocean. Sand and sea.
Maybe with a hot doctor by my side!
I turn the knob on the door to enter the office. A woman with thin, puffed-out red hair sits behind a desk piled with folders.
Maybe I can subtly find out who the mystery doctor is, once I’ve signed a lease, of course. Wouldn’t it be wild if we wereneighbors? I could bake him cookies after a long shift ofsaving people’s lives.
I’m positively giddy.
“Can I help you?” the woman asks, and despite her dour expression and less-than-friendly tone, I slide into the seat opposite her with open excitement.
I’m ready to sign on the dotted line.
My Los Angeles adventure just got a whole lot better.
2
DALTON
Iwatch as the woman I met heads out of the courtyard. Her skirt twitches with each step, and I’m mesmerized. Moving here might have some benefits.
“Dalton, are you sure you’re getting enough sleep?” Mom’s voice is crackly on the other end of the call. “And eating right?”
“I’m good. I feel fine.”
“Did you get a place yet?”
“I’m about to head into an apartment office and try to snag one. I only have twelve hours before my next shift.”
“Well, good luck, honey, and don’t worry about me. I’m managing fine without you.”
But is she? I worked a night job throughout med school to help her pay the bills. But even I can’t scrape much extra together right now, dealing with LA prices on a first-year intern’s salary plus medical school loans. “You’ll tell me if you fall behind.”
“Not a chance.” She laughs. “You let me know what happens.”
“Talk to you soon, Mom.”
“You better, Dalton.”
I shove my phone in my pocket. At least she’ll always have a cell phone, since I got a two-line plan. I am so ready to be pulling decent money to help her out. It’s been a real struggle since med school. I couldn’t work two jobs like I had in undergrad.
I have to kill it my intern year. Not everybody makes it out. I have to. With bells on.
I take long steps as I stride around the corner to the office. There are only two furnished apartments in the area I can afford. This complex has one of them. I can’t delay any longer or I might lose it.
