19. Frankie

NINETEEN

Frankie

3:03 pm

Sitting across from Bench as we go over the details of the trial, as my body seems to be intimately aware that Hunter will walk in any minute. My pits are sweaty, and another area is more wet than usual. Focus, Frankie.

The table in front of us is cluttered with papers—protocol drafts, charts, and research summaries. We've been at it for about twenty minutes, fine-tuning the specifics before Hunter arrives. I've been trying to focus on the work, but my mind keeps wandering to last night, to the kiss that's still sitting on my lips, taunting me.

"Now, Frankie," Theo says, snapping me back to the present. "About the patient selection criteria, you're confident that the inclusion parameters are set correctly?"

"Yes," I reply, nodding as I push aside the thoughts of Hunter. "We've narrowed it down to patients with a specific profile: those with advanced heart failure who have not responded well to existing pacemaker technology. We're also focusing on a subset with concurrent arrhythmias that aren't well managed with medication alone. The goal is to target those who would benefit the most from the new pacing algorithms we are testing."

Theo nods thoughtfully, tapping his pen against the table. "Good. And the exclusion criteria?"

"We're excluding patients with a history of severe ventricular arrhythmias that aren't controlled by ICDs or antiarrhythmic drugs, as well as those with significant comorbidities that could interfere with the trial results. We want to ensure we're testing this in a controlled population to get the most accurate data possible."

Theo seems satisfied with that, but before he can respond, the door opens and Hunter steps in. My heart skips a beat as he walks into the room, looking every bit the fucking cover model for a Vogue hottest surgeons in America issue.

"Sorry I'm late," Hunter says, sliding into the chair across from Theo and beside me. "Just finished up in surgery. We got a little later start than we planned, so everything got pushed back a little."

"No worries, Dr. Parrish," Theo replies, shifting a stack of papers toward him. "We were just discussing the patient selection criteria and the final steps before we submit the protocol for FDA approval."

Hunter nods, picking up the papers and scanning them quickly. "I've looked over the draft. The criteria look solid, but I had a few concerns about the pacing algorithms. Specifically, how we're going to handle patients who develop new arrhythmias during the trial. Are we set up to monitor those in real-time?"

The tension in the room rises as Hunter shifts into surgeon mode, his tone all business.

He bites his bottom lip as he thinks, a mannerism I've come to adore. It's a subtle reminder of what happened between us last night. I force myself to stay focused, to keep my voice steady.

"We've accounted for that," I say, leaning slightly forward to meet his gaze. "The devices will be equipped with real-time monitoring capabilities, and we've arranged for continuous telemetry for the first forty-eight hours post-implantation. Any new arrhythmias will trigger an automatic alert, and the patients will be brought in for immediate evaluation."

Hunter nods, seeming satisfied with my response, but he doesn't break eye contact. "Good. That's critical. We can't afford to have any surprises once we're in the thick of it."

Theo jumps in, sensing the intensity between us and perhaps trying to steer the conversation back to safer ground. "Hunter, your surgical expertise will be invaluable during the implantation phase. We've identified the top five centers that will participate in the trial. We'll need you to coordinate with the surgical teams at each site to ensure they're fully trained on the new device and procedures."

"I'm on it," Hunter says, turning his attention to Theo. "I'll set up training sessions with each team, making sure they're comfortable with the protocol and the device specifics. We'll also need to train my team here so they can assist. I want this to be a well-oiled machine before it goes out."

Theo nods, clearly pleased. "Exactly. And Frankie, I'll rely on you to oversee the data collection and ensure we're capturing everything we need. This trial has the potential to be a fundamental change, but a lot of that will depend on how we roll this out and conduct the trials. They have to be beyond reproach."

"Absolutely," I agree, though I can't shake the awareness of Hunter sitting so close beside me. "We'll be setting up a centralized database where all the trial data will be stored and monitored. I'll be coordinating with the statisticians to make sure we're analyzing the data in real-time, so we can adjust when necessary."

The conversation continues, a back-and-forth of technical details, logistical planning, and strategic decision-making. But underneath it all, there's an unmistakable tension between Hunter and me. At least for me. I can't help but wonder if he is experiencing it, too.

As the meeting wraps up, Theo leans forward, his elbows resting on the table. He looks between the two of us. "This is going to be a tough trial, but I'm confident we've got the right team to pull it off. Let's meet again next week to finalize the submission."

Hunter and I both nod, and Theo gathers his papers, leaving the room with a quick word of encouragement. The door closes behind him, and suddenly, it's just the two of us, the silence thick with everything we're not saying.

I glance over at Hunter, unsure of how to break the tension. But before I can figure it out, he stands up, gathering his things. "I'll be in touch with the surgical centers," he says, his dry affect leaves me reeling.

And then he's gone. Suddenly, I find myself all alone with my thoughts, realizing that whatever is happening is limited to the after hours.

Good, that's where it belongs.

4:28 pm

I decide to stop by and see Carly on the OR floor before heading out. I shoot her a quick text to make sure she's at the desk and not with a patient. When she confirms she's free, I let her know I'm on my way up to say hi.

As I step off the elevator, I spot Carly's vibrant blond locks behind the nurses' station. She looks up and breaks into a wide smile as I approach.

"Hey, stranger!" she calls out, her eyes twinkling.

I lean against the counter, returning her smile. "How are you doing? First day back and all?"

Carly stretches her arms above her head, wincing slightly. "A little sore still, but it's good to be back in the swing of things. I was going stir-crazy at home."

"I bet," I chuckle. "How's the pace been today? Not too overwhelming, I hope?"

She shakes her head. "Nah, it's been pretty steady. Nothing I can't handle. Though I have to admit, I'm moving slower than usual."

I nod sympathetically. "That's to be expected. Just don't push yourself too hard, okay? It's only your first day back."

"Yes, Nurse Ratched," Carly rolls her eyes playfully. "But seriously, thanks for checking in. It means a lot."

"Of course," I reply, reaching out to squeeze her hand. "That's what friends are for."

We chat for a few more minutes about her recovery and the latest hospital gossip. As I'm about to leave, Carly leans in conspiratorially.

"So, any updates on the Hunter situation?" she whispers, eyebrows raised.

My cheeks flush and I quickly glance around to make sure no one's within earshot. "Not now, Carly. God, you're impossible. I'll fill you in later, I promise."

She grins, clearly enjoying my discomfort. "I'll hold you to that! I'm off at seven. Can I stop by your place on the way home?"

"Duh. Of course, you can. I would think something was wrong if you didn't!"

4:42 pm

Walking through the hospital parking lot, I pull out my phone, my fingers hesitant to call Bill, but it is hanging over me. It's been a full twenty-four hours since he called with news that his labs were promising, and I still haven't returned his call.

It's been sitting in the back of my mind, lingering. There is no doubt I've been avoiding it, avoiding him, unsure of how to handle the slow rebuilding of a relationship I never really had.

I take a deep breath and swipe to call him, holding the phone to my ear as I unlock my car. The line rings a few times before I hear his voice on the other end.

"Frankie," he answers, sounding surprised but pleased. "Hey, there."

"Hi," I reply, sliding into the driver's seat of my VW Passat and shutting the door behind me. "I got your message yesterday. Sorry I didn't call back sooner—things have been hectic. But, I was so happy to get your voicemail."

"No worries," he says, and I can almost hear the smile in his voice. "I just wanted to share the good news. The labs are looking better. The treatment might actually be doing something. It seemed that the doctors were pleased."

"That's great to hear," I say, meaning it. "I'm always glad for good news."

"Yeah," he agrees, but there's a hesitation in his voice, like he's not sure what to say next. "I know it's still early, but I'm hopeful. And I wanted to make sure you were kept informed, you know?"

I nod, thinking of all the implications of what the healing could mean. "I appreciate that, Dad."

There's a brief silence. The awkwardness and normalness of what I just said sits there on display for both of us. It's the first time I've called him anything, let alone the intimate moniker.

Neither of us says anything, and he clears his throat. Maybe he is as emotional as I am about it.

"Anyway," he says after a moment, "I don't want to keep you. I know you're busy."

"I am, but… I'm glad to catch you," I say, surprising myself with how much I mean it. "Maybe we can meet again for coffee this week. I mean, if you're up for it."

"That would be amazing," he replies, almost a little too energetically. "I'll make myself available any time that works for you."

"How about we touch base later in the week?" I say, my voice quieter now, and I'm not sure if I'm talking to him or myself. "I have a big project I'm working on that is trying to get off the ground in the short term. But I'll know more as the week goes on."

"That sounds good. You know how to find me. I would really enjoy that."

"Okay," I say, smiling a little. "Take care."

I hang up and sit in the quiet of my car for a moment, letting the conversation sink in. It wasn't much, just a quick call, but it's progress. Slow, but steady. Like we're both trying to figure out how to navigate this, one step at a time.

As I start the car and head home, I can't help but think about how everything in my life seems like it's on the edge of something—my relationship with my father, this trial with Hunter, and especially whatever it is that's happening between Hunter and me on a personal level.

It's all so tenuous, so fragile, but for the first time in a long time, I think things might actually be moving in the right direction, somewhere toward happiness.

And that's enough for now.

Frankie's House

7:46 pm

Carly arrives at my place not long after I get home. I had to run by the grocery store and then I picked up Chinese for us. I know Carly well enough to know she hasn't eaten a proper meal all day.

She's still in her scrubs, of course, looking tired but cheerful as she steps inside. I'm sure being on her feet for twelve hours for the first time since the accident was hard, but somehow she always manages to show up like she is on top of the world. If I could have just a smidge of that optimism and eternal happiness I would get good to go.

"Hey, you," she says, giving me a quick hug before dropping her bag and collapsing on the sofa. "I smell Chinese, don't I?"

"I was starving," I admit, heading to the kitchen to prepare our dinner. "I got you your favorite."

"General Tso's," she finishes the sentence for me.

"Yes!" I grab plates and chopsticks and set them down on the coffee table. "I could definitely use some comfort food."

Carly digs in, wasting no time. I'm about to do the same when she glances over at me, her eyes narrowing slightly.

"So," she starts, her mouth full but probing, regardless. "When I ran into you at the hospital earlier, you looked like you had something on your mind. Or rather, someone. Who could that be, hmmm?"

My face immediately goes hot and turns a bright crimson, I'm sure. Of course she knows exactly who she's referring to. "It's nothing," I say, trying to brush it off, but Carly just raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it.

"Frankie, come on," she says, her voice a mix of amusement and concern. "We both know there's some ‘there-there' with you and Hunter. So quit playing dumb with me."

I sigh, knowing there's no point in trying to deny it any longer. Carly is like a dog with a bone when it comes to this stuff. "Okay, fine. There's… something. I've resigned myself to the notion that it isn't, or wasn't, just a one time thing."

Carly leans in, her eyes gleaming with curiosity. "Something? That's it? I need details, girl. What's happened since we spoke yesterday morning?"

I take a deep breath, thinking back to everything that's happened since then. Shit, has it only been since yesterday? "Well, after you and I spoke, I met with Hunter at the hospital. It was… awkward, to say the least. As you know, he didn't call at all on Sunday."

Carly nods, urging me to continue. "And?"

"And," I say, rolling my eyes a little. "It was weird seeing him after that. Neither of us acknowledged it at first."

"True," Carly agrees, "but to be fair, you didn't call him either, so it's not like it's all on him. This isn't the 1950's, you know. The woman can call the man, too."

"Yeah, I know," I admit, feeling a little sheepish. "Anyway, after that, he invited me to join him for a drink that night. It was casual, nothing formal. And it just… it felt natural, easy. We talked, we laughed, and then we went for a walk."

"A walk? How romantic."

I happen to agree, but I don't let her taunt ruffle me. Or, at least I don't show it.

"And?" Carly prompts, her eyes widening in anticipation.

"And then he kissed me," I say, the words coming out faster than I intend. Just saying it aloud makes my heart skip a beat, reliving the moment in my mind. "It was intense. But in a good way. Right there on First Avenue."

Carly's eyebrows shoot up. "Whoa, okay. That's big. Like, right there in the open, in downtown Birmingham? So, what now?"

"Yup. That's the thing," I say, picking at my fried rice with my chopsticks. "I don't know. We both acted like nothing happened when we met today for our meeting with Dr. Bench. We were completely professional, but I couldn't stop thinking about it. About him."

Carly leans back, crossing her arms as she studies me. "Frankie, you've got it bad."

"I know," I admit, letting out a sigh, admitting it for the first time to myself and out loud. "But it doesn't seem like just a fling. I'm not sure what it is, but there's something brewing between us. Something real. And I'm kind of excited to see where it goes, you know?"

"Yeah, real sex. You know Hunter's reputation, right? Please remember my warning."

"I know. I know. That's why before now I didn't think much of it. But, I don't know, Car. It know he's feeling it, too."

"That's what all the ladies say, I'm sure."

"You know I'm not like that. I'm not one to get all googly-eyed over a man. I wasn't looking for anything when we slept together. This is progressing contrary to an attempt to keep it at bay."

Carly gives me a skeptical look, but there's a softness in her eyes that tells me she's happy for me, even if she's worried. "I never thought I'd see the day when you'd be giddy over a guy, especially one like Hunter Parrish. But you seem different. Happier, I guess."

"I am," I say, a small smile tug at my lips forming involuntarily. "I really am. And I'm starting to think that maybe we can figure out a way to do the work thing and the more thing."

Carly's expression shifts to one of cautious optimism. "Well, I won't say I'm not worried. Hunter doesn't do the commitment thing, and you know that. But it's nice to see you like this. I just don't want you to get your heart broken."

We continue eating, talking and laughing until our bellies hurt. Carly doesn't let up with the questions. It's freeing to let it all out, to admit to someone else finally that I might actually be falling for Hunter. For the first time, I'm not just thinking about the risks—I'm thinking about the possibilities.

And that's a pretty big step for me.

8:59 pm

After Carly leaves, I pace in my living room, her words echoing in my mind. She's right—I could have texted Hunter too. Maybe he's holding back, waiting to see if I'm interested. The thought makes my stomach flutter.

Before I can talk myself out of it, I grab my phone and open our text thread. My thumbs go to quick work, crafting the perfect message. Keep it casual, Frankie. Nothing too forward.

I type out a message, then delete it. Too formal. I try again, erasing that one, too. Too flirty. Finally, I settle on something simple:

Hey, up for an evening walk?

My heart races as I hit send. The message shows as delivered, and I hold my breath, waiting. One minute passes. Then two. I set my phone down, trying not to stare at it.

Just as I'm about to give up and distract myself with some work, my phone buzzes. I snatch it up, fumbling in my haste to read his response.

Actually, I'm about to throw a filet on the grill. I bought a two-pack. Would hate for it to go to waste. Join me?

Shit. I'm stuffed from my fried rice and General Tso's, but I don't know if I can pass this up. Fuck it.

Perfect. Send me your addy.

I rush to my bedroom, rummaging through my closet for something cute but casual. I settle on a pair of fitted yoga pants and a soft, oversized linen shirt. As I'm lacing up my sneakers, I catch sight of myself in the mirror. My cheeks are flushed, and there's a sparkle in my eyes I haven't seen in a long time.

This is crazy, I think to myself. But for once, I'm not overthinking it. I'm just going with it, and it's empowering.