Chapter 26

Sam

“So, fame isn’t all it’s cracked up to be?”

I glared at Blake, taking a longer-than-necessary pull of my beer. Two days after the clusterfuck of a PR meeting and people were still cramming their phones in my face. I was a quiet guy. Private. I didn’t love having someone stop me every two steps and yelling lyrics to “Come and Get Your Love” at me from across the street.

I assumed it was so much worse for Lainey, but I couldn’t be sure. I hadn’t seen her since she left me in the elevator. Our text messages and after-work phone calls were nonexistent.

“All the hype will die down soon.” Blake did his best to sound optimistic. I’d been complaining to him about the ridiculousness of it all ever since we’d sat down. We’d gotten interrupted multiple times, turning down two selfie seekers and one guy who asked for my autograph, of all things.

I thought we’d be safer in a bar a few blocks from the medical district, surrounded by other doctors. But apparently, nowhere was safe.

“Not likely,” I answered, slouched over our table. It was challenging to condense my 6’2” body onto a bar stool, but I was trying my damnedest. “Lainey’s calendar is still full of interviews and she’s supposed to be on her way to New York any minute now for some late night show thing.”

Blake whistled. “I know it sucks, but I have to say, as someone heading up my department, I would do illegal things to get the kind of exposure Cedar’s racking up.”

Hence why all the madness had yet to die down. The Carmichael PR team was unstoppable, shamelessly using Lainey to plug a new cardiac care initiative for inner city families. Meanwhile, Cedar was just as shamelessly riding their coattails.

Everywhere I looked, there was Lainey, talking about the importance of heart care or smiling at an interviewer while discussing her mother’s foundation. The more articles that came out and media clips were generated, the more all of it snowballed a bit further out of control.

I had never realized a measly internet video could make such a splash, but the PR people were relentless. Between their new campaign, Carmichael’s celebrity, and Lainey’s beautiful face, suddenly it seemed like the whole country was thinking about heart surgery.

“And still no word from Lainey?”

“Nada. Which is the worst part.” Another swig of beer didn’t help mellow my agitation. This all might have been more manageable if she’d been around to commiserate with. Instead, I was on my own, trying to hide in the corner of a sports bar.

“I guess it’s hard to talk to her when she’s busy with the ladies of The View.”

Had Lainey gone on The View? I hadn’t caught that one. I needed to set up a fucking Google alert. According to Cooper, she was still keeping up with most of her patients, which I wasn’t sure was physically possible, but who was I to question the Great Lainey Carmichael?

“Just let me get through this, Sam . ” I drained my beer, setting it down before moving on to the full pint glass sitting beside it. It paid to be prepared.

“They were doing a segment on good news, or something. She was great,” Blake chimed in again, oblivious to how badly I wanted to bang my head against the table.

She was great at this stuff. Charming and smooth. She tied in some good plugs for Cedar and her mother’s charity. In one of the morning show interviews today, she’d also mentioned that she and I were “great friends,” which I’m sure was just because that’s what someone told her to say, but it felt like one more nail in the coffin.

I’d admired Lainey from afar ever since we’d met, but over the last six weeks I’d gotten closer to her than I ever dreamed of. Even while she hesitated about committing fully to our relationship (who could blame her with her history?), she let me coax her out of her shell more and more as the days went on.

I’d always known she was charming, but she was also caring and thoughtful. She claimed she didn’t do relationships, but she’d already adopted my family and friends as if they were her own. With every inch she gave me, I wanted a mile. And now I had nothing.

“Listen, man, if you’re going to sulk this whole time, that’s fine. I’ll just watch the game.”

I pinned Blake with another glare. Wasn’t this supposed to be one of my best friends? Where was the support? I knew I should have gone to Molido’s.

He shrugged off my angry look. “Tough love, buddy. You can sit here and mope all day, or you can grab your balls and call her. Talk to her about it.”

“She basically told me to stay away from her, Blake. I don’t think blowing up her phone was what she had in mind.”

“Seems like she’s getting put through the ringer even more than you are. Maybe she’d appreciate knowing you still have her back.” He clapped me on the shoulder. “But what do I know? I’ve never gone viral before. I’ve also never dated quite this far out of my league. You’re breathing rarefied air, over there.”

“I just wish I knew where her head was at.” Friday had been perfect. Saturday was a dream. All my hard work had paid off. All those lunches, quiet moments stolen in the hallways, and morning workouts had led to that one, perfect day, when I’d finally felt like I had every piece of her, not just the flashes she allowed other people to see. But then her cold shoulder after the PR meeting had pulled the rug out from under me.

I thought she’d felt it, too. That closeness. Intimacy that had nothing to do with sex. But maybe I’d been wrong.

“No time like the present to ask.” Blake nodded towards the doors where Lainey made her way through the crowd to us. A few people stopped her to chat or take pictures. She obliged, but she was stiff, smile tight.

My feet hit the floor before I realized I’d slid off the stool.

“Aren’t you supposed to be on a plane right now?” I asked when she finally made her way to our table. She shook off my offer of a stool, swiping my beer.

“No. No travel. I had to put my foot down. I’m running myself ragged over here.” She chugged the IPA, downing about half of it before slamming it on the table. Foam sloshed over the side.

“We’re going to need more beer,” Blake muttered, trying to flag down a harried server. I was less concerned for my backup beer and more concerned about Lainey. Her usually riotous curls were sticking out from her surgical cap, which I wasn’t sure she knew she was still wearing. Dark circles couldn’t hide under the thick makeup rimming her eyes.

“You’re not going to New York?” I couldn’t help the hope rising in my chest. I was so damned happy to see her face in person, instead of on a screen.

“No New York. I couldn’t…” She picked the beer up before putting it back down without drinking. “Caplan canceled all my clinical work for next week. Completely cleared my calendar without even consulting me."

“Definitely need more beer.” Blake peered around the bar while I frowned down at Lainey.

“What do you mean, all your clinical work?” That couldn’t be right. Cooper was slammed through August. No way would the department just release her from work right at the home stretch of her program.

“No surgeries, no rounds. I had to hand all my patients over to Jones. My time is apparently more valuable speaking to the media than it is in the OR.”

“What the fuck?” Blake blurted. Lainey looked at him as if she’d just realized he was there.

“I. Know.” She shook her head at him. “I tried to talk them out of it, but they steamrolled me. And Sturmond is over there spouting off his nonsense about me being a team player. He basically came out and said that if I did these interviews, I’d get a job. Can he even do that? You’re the one in charge of the interviews.”

I side-stepped the question. Now was most definitely not the time to get into my new role in the interviews. “That makes no sense. You need to go to Whitaker.” I looked around for someone to give me a check. I could close out my tab now, walk over to Cedar, grab the fellowship director, and shake some sense into him myself.

“He was in the room, Reese!” My heart stuttered. Reese . She didn’t seem to notice. “He said he supported the whole thing. Apparently, the hospital has been flooded with donors all week. The Gates Foundation called Caplan to talk about some sort of fellowship grant, or something. They said there’s a chance I could be sidelined until the end of my program.”

She buried her face in her hands. I wanted so badly to reach out and touch her, to wrap my arms around her, but I didn’t dare.

Blake whistled. “That sucks. Seriously. At least there’s one upside to working for a blacklisted program. The board doesn’t dare tell us what to do. We’re understaffed, as-is.”

Lainey raised her head to look at him. I got a sick feeling when I saw the gears in her head turning. “For real?”

Blake nodded, still searching for a waiter. “Absolutely. They’re so desperate to rebuild, we have nothing left to lose. They pretty much let us do whatever, as long as it’s legal. If this happened at Mercy, you could totally tell them to fuck off.”

She stared at him for another moment, eyes glazed yet focused at the same time. I could see where this was heading. I opened my mouth to say something, but she beat me to it. “And procedures? What about new or experimental surgeries?”

“You kidding? They can’t get enough of them. They’re hoping we can remake a name for ourselves by being more innovative. We’re taking that LVAD that Cooper couldn’t get approval on.”

“Mercy is letting us do the LVAD?” she gasped, eyes lighting up like it was Christmas. Her excitement finally registered with Blake. He whirled on her like a shark smelling blood in the water.

“Just Cooper. It was Sam’s idea, actually. We’re calling it a training procedure so our team can watch. Can’t do that with fellows. Now, if you were on staff with us, though…” He trailed off, dangling the bait. Lainey bit her lip, wavering for only a second before anger and resolve slid like a hard mask over her face.

“Are you interviewing? Can you get me in?”

Blake laughed so loudly that the patrons who’d lost interest in our table stared. “No interview necessary. Name your price.”

“No, I want to do this the right way. All the right channels. I’m not saying I’m coming to Mercy, but I’ll at least check it out.”

They set up an interview then and there while I glared around for our missing server. You’d think going viral would at least help me get a beer. Blake pocketed his phone, beaming. He sobered up quickly when he saw my face.

“I’ll go up for another round. This one’s on me.” He hoofed it to stand in line at the bar before I could respond. Like buying me a beer would make up for trying to poach Lainey.

“What?” She toyed with the empty glass on the table, finally sliding onto the stool I’d vacated for her. She looked somewhat calmer, now that she’d orchestrated a big fuck you to Cedar with this Mercy interview.

I shrugged, glancing over at the game. Cubs were up by two. Huh.

“You look like you want to murder someone. It’s just an interview. I’m allowed to explore my options.” She crossed her arms.

“It’s well within your rights to interview with other institutions.” I sounded like I was reading from an employee handbook. Funny how for the last few days, all I’d wanted was to talk to her, but here she was now and I couldn’t bring myself to make eye contact.

“But? You’re worried we won’t see as much of each other if I work somewhere else?” In fact, yes, that thought had crossed my mind. I was glad to know it had crossed hers, too. Maybe there was hope for us, yet. “I’d probably get off most nights and weekends. And Mercy is just down the street. We could meet for lunch.”

She wasn’t wrong, but the source of my frustration wasn’t that she was taking an interview at Mercy. “Too far away to worry about now.” I reached for a coaster, sliding my knuckles across hers with the movement. “I’m sorry about the media stuff. It’s ridiculous for them to sideline you.”

She stared at her hand. I wondered if she could still feel the tingling rush from where our skin touched, like I could. “Thank you. Maybe…maybe it’ll only be for another week? This will all die down just in time for the final attending interviews.”

“Maybe.” Hopefully. This video had effectively derailed all my plans—at least for the time being. The sooner it vanished into the social media ether, the better. If only the PR people would just give it a rest.

“Are you okay? You look…sad or something.” Her pinky brushed mine. I sighed. Her thighs had been wrapped around my head for a full thirty minutes last weekend, and now I was settling for a centimeter’s worth of contact. I was indeed sad or something.

“This has all been weird.” Understatement of the year. What I wanted to say was that she felt like sand slipping through my fists, and I couldn’t do anything about it. But that was too much to put on her when she was already dealing with losing her surgical roster. Not to mention, we weren’t even technically dating.

Understanding and guilt washed over her face. She leaned closer, wrapping her hand around mine. Bold move, considering she’d practically leaped down an elevator shaft last time I tried to touch her. I opened my fingers to clasp hers.

“Sam, I’m so sorry. I’ve been so wrapped up in all this, I didn’t stop to think how hard this must be on you, too. Obviously. God, I’m the worst. Are you alright?”

“I only had to give one or two quotes. You’re the one doing the legwork.”

“I am sure it’s been hard on you, too. Especially if you’ve been accosted in the street as much as I have.” I felt her peering up at me, but couldn’t bring myself to look back. Now that she was in front of me, the hurt and confusion I’d been grappling with all week morphed into unshakable irritation. She had just left me high and dry for days, and now she wanted to come back like nothing had happened?

Her thumb stroked my knuckles. “Seriously, what’s wrong? Is it just the publicity stuff? Are you mad I’m interviewing at Mercy?”

“No, that’s not the problem.” I cleared my throat, finally meeting her eyes. The way she looked at me reminded me of that first morning in the parking lot at R 3 . Aware. Actually seeing me, instead of just looking. Maybe Blake was right, and I needed to be more open with her. I owed her my honesty.

“I wish we’d had some time to debrief when all this went down. You flew out of that meeting and pretty much ordered me not to talk to you.” I cracked a smile, aiming for a joke. Her fingers froze on my forearm. “I thought we were on the same page, but now I’m not sure where we stand. I mean, I haven’t heard from you since Sunday.”

She removed her hand altogether, staring down at the table in front of her.

An uncharacteristic urge to fill the silence welled. “I know you have a lot more on your plate with this than I do—”

“I told you I was bad at this.” She blinked up at me, eyes liquid. “I’m the worst, Jesus. You’re right, I just… left you and acted like a complete moron. I wasn’t…I’m only used to thinking about myself. It’s inexcusable. Sam, I’m sorry.” She sniffed.

“Do not cry, Honey, please.” I didn’t know if I could take it if she did. Her pain amplified mine. Made me feel even worse. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay. I’m a self-centered idiot.” She swiped her hand across her forehead, her eyes looking more watery by the second. “I didn’t even think to ask about you in all this. I…I didn’t think about you .”

There was something about that statement that threw me back into uncomfortable oatmeal memories, but she looked so remorseful—beautiful and remorseful—that I reached over to cover her hand with mine. I paused, hovering over her fingers. “I’d like to touch you. Is that alright? Here?”

The question sent a single tear down her cheek. She swiped it away quickly, swallowing. “That you even have to ask…”

“You’re in control here, Lainey. You always have been. You told me you were worried someone might see us together in public.”

Her face tensed like she was tasting something bitter. “In the interview today, I told them we were friends. So hopefully…no one will think anything if they see us together.”

Her hands were cold, despite the warm day outside. “So, you were thinking about me, after all.”

“Only…only in the future sense. Like how I can just get this behind us so that we can go back to…”

“Dating,” I supplied for her when she faltered. “I think we’re past the trial period.”

She snorted. “I guess. If you still even want me.”

Oh, Sweetheart. Don’t you see? “I do.”

“Even though I ruined our amazing weekend and yelled at you in an elevator and haven’t spoken to you for a week? Crap, I’m the worst .” The last bit was so quiet, as if she was whispering it to herself, before straightening up. “I can do better, Sam. I promise. Being in a relationship has to be like riding a bike, right?”

“You are a very quick study.” My shoulders relaxed a few degrees at her hopeful expression.

“I am. I’m sorry. I just—between the interviews and my patients and my mom and now this . I’m not…used to having to think about other people. Which sounds horrible when I say it out loud. Especially to you.”

“Why especially to me?” I wanted to hold her. Wrap my arms around her, kiss her hair, and wipe that wrecked, self-conscious pout off her face. I felt like I could breathe for the first time in days.

“You care about everyone. All the time. I must seem like a monster.”

“I don’t think you’re a monster.”

“I’ll do better,” she repeated, clenching her fingers in mine like we were shaking on it. “I promise. I’m sorry.”

“If you apologize one more time, you’re buying the next round.”

She jumped to her feet. “I can do that! I can get the next!”

“I was joking, sit! Sit.” I waited until she settled back on the stool. Her fingers rolled a coaster back and forth across the table as she glanced around us. We’d collected a few stares when she’d come in, but everyone had lost interest, going back to their drinks.

“So, we’re good? Because I want us to be good. I want this, Sam.”

“We’re good, Honey.” We sat in silence for a moment longer. Blake had just made his way to the front of the long line at the bar. The waitress was maybe lost forever. A thought occurred. “How’d you know I’d be here?”

“Hmm?”

“You came in here like you were looking for me. How’d you know I was here?”

“Ah.” She scraped an old sticker off the table with her thumbnail. “I, uh, looked at your location. From your phone. You shared it with me, remember?”

“You looked at my location.” It was probably stupid how happy that made me, but I’d spent the last few days worrying about how she felt about me and now she was right here apologizing and tracking my phone. I’d take it.

“I actually…kind of…look at your location a lot.” More scraping. I bit my cheek to hide the grin that wanted to take over my face.

“Stalker?”

“It might be a problem.” She looked at me, so seriously, so shamelessly, a laugh cracked out of me before I could wrangle it back down.

“Lainey.” I leaned in close, catching a whiff of her clean vanilla scent for the first time in days. “I know your weekly schedule by heart.”

“So, you’re not going to call the cops on me? If we both stalk each other, it cancels out?” Her lips were pink, bitten, like she’d been chewing on them all day. I wanted to lick them.

“Something like that.”

“I thought we weren’t getting touchy-feely in public?” Blake set three beers down. I stepped away from her. I hadn’t realized how close we’d gotten. Dangerous, tempting girl.

We managed to keep ourselves at a respectable distance, but Blake smirked every time Lainey or I brushed against the other, which we made excuses to do more often than was natural. She beat me back to my place from the bar and was pulling me out of the car before the garage door had even closed behind me.