“Anyway,” he says, “congratulations on your career. I remember you always wanted to be a surgeon. Not that there was any doubt. I’ve never seen anyone so dedicated. You did everything except make a sacrifice to the premed gods.”
“Thanks.” (I think.)
I take a sip of my drink, enjoying the warm feeling that comes over me. Brady Mitchell. My God. We dated for about three months, if I’m remembering correctly. He was nice. I was the one who ended it, but I don’t think it was overly traumatic. We ended on good terms.
The part I’m having trouble remembering iswhyI ended it. I must have had a reason, beyond just three months being the upper limit of how long I’m willing to date a guy (which is true). I’m sure I had a good reason for breaking up with Brady.
But why?
Well, I can’t exactly ask him. Even if I told him the truth at the time, which I suspect I did not.
“You’re wondering why I’m working here,” he says.
I blink at him. “No…”
He makes a face at me. “Oh, comeon. Look, I don’t blame you. I’d be wondering too.”
I shrug. “Not really.”
“Oh? Well, in that case, I’m not going to tell you.”
“Fine,” I concede. “I’m wondering. Alittle.”
He nods, satisfied. “So I came out here because I got a great job in Silicon Valley,” he says. “But dumbass that I am, I quit my awesome job to join what I thought was an incredible startup. Which then failed spectacularly. So I am currently passing my resume around, and it’s not going great.” He looks around the bar. “This is so I don’t end up living in a cardboard box, you know? Those boxes are not very comfortable to sleep in.”
“Right.” I think for a minute, wondering if there are any strings I can pull at the hospital to get him an IT job.But I’m not sure if he’d appreciate that. “I’m sure you’ll find something else.”
“Yeah… The job market isn’t great now. Of course, it’s all my fault.” He rubs at his chin which has even more stubble than last night. Back in college, he could barely grow a beard—now it seems to be happening against his will, as the night goes on. “But the truth is, I like working here. It’s a good break. I was going cross-eyed sitting in front of a computer day in day out for fifteen years. And carpal tunnelsucks.”
He smiles at me again. Boy, he’s cute. Why on earth did I break up with him? It’s driving me nuts that I can’t remember. “I always figured you’d be married by now,” I remark.
He glances down the bar to make sure nobody is trying to get his attention. But it’s quiet tonight. “I was. Not anymore.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t say sorry.” He shakes his head. “Back when I was married, that would be the time to say sorry. Now you should saycongratulations, because I’m out.”
“Oh. Well, congratulations.”
“Gracias.” He looks pointedly down at my left hand. No ring. “How about you?”
“No, never went that route.”
He snorts. “Not surprised.”
I inhale sharply. “Why?”
He laughs. “That was your mantra in college, wasn’t it?I will never get married, Brady. I never want kids.”
“Oh, right. I guess I knew what I wanted at an earlyage.”
I take another sip from my drink. I don’t know if it’s the alcohol or what, but I don’t remember feeling quite this drawn to Brady back in college. Ilikedhim, but he’s on another level of sexy now. But so what? Nothing is going to happen. It’s been too long. And also, I just noticed a splatter of blood on the leg of my scrub pants, right in that gap between where my gown ended and the booties began during my surgical cases from today. That’s pretty much the opposite of sexy.
Well, unless you’re my father.
“That guy from yesterday…” he says. “He didn’t bother you after you left, did he?”
I decide not to mention the fact that Callahan started following me as I drove home last night. It would just worry him. “No.”
