Page 35 of Accidental Doctor Daddy
Seeing her again had shaken me. There was no other word for it. I had always thought if I ran into her in the city, we’d have a laugh, a drink, and tumble into my bed. Never thought she’d be on my operating table.
I should have been able to walk away, leave her to recover, focus on my next case, and do anything I was supposed to be doing—but I couldn't. The need to stay, to know more, to be near her, to breathe her in, gnawed at me.
I had spent months telling myself she was a memory, a perfect mirage that had existed only on that island. For a while, I had told myself she wasn’t real. Anything to take the edge off.
Briefly, I even considered hiring a private investigator to track her down somehow. How many assistant chefs named Ella were in a city as big as New York?
Probably a lot. But it was all I had to go on.
The idea of tracking her down, as appealing as it was, was too close to stalker territory, and that would only have expanded the distance between us if she had ever found out what I’d done. I had no intention of letting that happen. After I gave up on that dream, I knew I’d never see her again.
And yet, there she was, very real, in my hospital, with two newborns.
I was too distracted, too tangled in my own thoughts, and I nearly ran straight into the last person I wanted to see.
"Watch where you’re walking, Mortoli," a smug voice said, dripping with fake civility.
I gritted my teeth and looked up to find Seth Bowan standing in front of me, arms crossed, a smirk plastered across his annoyingly punchable face.
Seth was one of those guys who had a way of getting under your skin. He wasn’t a bad doctor—not by a long shot. That was the problem. He was competent, sharp, and ambitious as hell. We were in the same field, similar ages, similar credentials. The only difference was, he was an ass about it.
"Didn't take you for the type to avoid pages," Seth said, tilting his head in mock curiosity.
“I was busy.”
Seth let out a slow, exaggerated sigh. "Sure, whatever you say. I wanted an update on one of your patients—Ella Green."
How the hell does he know her name?Something inside me prepared for a fight. I didn’t want to hear her name out of his mouth ever again. I kept my face impassive. “You’re not on her case. What do you need an update for?”
“Sounded like an interesting patient. Status?”
"I’m pretty sure you know sharing patient information is a HIPAA violation."
“Fine.” Seth scoffed, rolling his eyes. "The truth is, she works for my wife."
That caught my attention.
"Carrie sent her here," he continued. "She wanted to make sure Ella got the best care. Since I wasn’t in the ED when she came, I didn’t have the case. So, I told her I’d check in, but you’re making that unnecessarily difficult. Anything notable?"
My lips curled into a slow, amused smile. "As I said, that would be a HIPAA violation.” I clapped him on the shoulder as I stepped past him and pasted a grim smirk on my face. "And I know you wouldn’t want me to get in trouble, just as much as I wouldn’t want to have to report you for asking that kind of thing."
Seth let out a sharp exhale through his nose, clearly irritated. "Fine. Be difficult."
But I barely heard him. My mind was turning over a new detail.
Ella works for Carrie Bowan atSuivante.
I’d heard of it, of course—everyone in the city had. It was one of the most sought-after reservations in the tristate area, on the way to a Michelin star. A restaurant that thrived on experimentation, known for its risk-taking menu, where dining was more than eating—it was an experience.
And Ella worked there. That wasn’t just impressive—it washer.It made sense. She had that same daring energy, that same ability to turn the ordinary into something extraordinary. She wasn’t just some girl who was game for anything—being game for anything was how she lived. She was a risk taker, a woman who liked adventure.
Someone who could keep up with me.
The realization sat with me as I made my way toward the hospital’s koi pond. I needed air, needed to clear my head before I lost control entirely. The garden was quiet this time of day, the gentle trickle of water from the fountain cutting through the din of the city beyond. I sat on the bench near the pond, watching the koi swirl beneath the surface in the evening light. They came, looking for a donation.
“Sorry, kids, I’m all out. No free dinner today.”
After a minute, they gave up begging from me to do whatever it was koi did when people weren’t around. That was good. I needed to focus. Ella was a distraction, and I couldn’t afford more distractions. I had too much on my plate. My kids, my company and my career at the hospital.
