11. Darcy

CHAPTER 11

DARCY

"Hey," Hayden says behind me as I wait inside the arena entrance a few days later. He approaches with a puzzled expression on his face, looking around. "I heard there was a cute girl waiting down here…" His gaze finds me and his face falls in an exaggerated, comical way. "Oh."

I shake with laughter. "Very funny. Hi."

"Hi. Are you waiting for Georgia?"

I smile and nod. We're going shopping. "She should be down any minute."

Our gazes hold for a long moment, and I think back to a few nights ago, when I had my hand on his thigh. All night, I tossed and turned, worrying I'd made a fatal friendship error and ruined everything, but the next morning, Hayden acted like it never happened at all.

I keep thinking about it, though.

"Excuse us," someone says, working with another person to carry a giant teddy bear through the lobby.

"Hey, guys." Hayden gives them a friendly smile, and my gaze lingers on the giant heart on the teddy's chest.

Be my Valentine? is stitched on the heart. I can feel my mouth turning down .

"We're going to the children's hospital tomorrow," Hayden explains.

A noise of acknowledgment comes out of my throat. Since the decorations started going up in stores a few weeks ago, I've been dreading Valentine's Day. Kit and I never celebrated it. He was always traveling for work, or we'd make some excuse about how busy restaurants were, which I was fine with. It was never a big deal to me.

The idea of seeing happy couples everywhere tomorrow sends a streak of cold dread through me, though.

Hayden's expression shifts, looking weirdly serious. "Hey, Darce? There was something I wanted to ask you?—"

"You must be Darcy," a woman with thick auburn hair and a broad smile calls as she strides through the lobby on her heels. "Owens said you looked like the love child of a fairy sprite and a cupcake, and I see exactly what he means."

She beams at me, and her whiskey-colored eyes are so shockingly pretty—everything about her is—that I'm stunned.

"Hi. I'm Georgia."

I shake her manicured hand. With Hayden, I'm used to his charisma. I've had eight years to adjust, but with this woman? I feel like I just met a celebrity.

So this is one of the team doctors. Georgia can't be more than thirty, but she carries herself with confidence I'll never have. Her hair cascades around her shoulders in long curls. Her makeup's impeccable and her freckles are adorable. Her brown tweed coat is professional yet stylish, and it's an unexpectedly perfect match to her emerald-green velvet heels. Her dress slacks end just above a voluminous green velvet bow on each ankle strap. I bet she had these pants hemmed especially for these shoes.

"Wow." I blink at her, and she and Hayden chuckle. "Hi." I arch an eyebrow at Hayden. "Fairy sprite cupcake? "

He just shrugs and smiles.

Georgia gives him a wry look. "You should hear the things he says about you. When we go for lunch, he's like, Darcy this, and Darcy that?—"

"She's exaggerating," Hayden interrupts, and the tips of his ears go pink.

Delight spreads through me, and I bite back a smile. I'm about to tease him, but the elevator dings, the doors open, and Alexei steps out with his bag and jacket on, probably heading to the parking garage. Our eyes meet and he gives me an approving nod.

"Darcy," he says as a greeting before glancing at Georgia with a grumpy expression. "Got your claws in her already, Dr. Evil?"

She stiffens. "Who let you out of the care home, Grandfather?"

His features harden and his gaze drops to her feet, lingering. "Those aren't office appropriate."

"That's rich from someone with four teeth."

She gives him a cool smile, undeterred by his intimidating presence. His nostrils flare, and Hayden and I watch them like a tennis match. I'm in awe; she's my new icon.

"I have all my teeth," Alexei says in a low, deadly voice.

"For now. You've broken every other bone, so it's only a matter of time until you're spitting Chiclets. I'm shocked you don't have a reserved parking spot at the hospital."

I make a curious expression at Hayden, and his eyebrows bob once, eyes lit up with amusement.

Alexei towers over her, staring down at her with a hard set to his jaw. "You're not my doctor anymore. Don't waste valuable energy on me that you can be using to find a rich husband."

Georgia just sighs like she's tired of him. "That' s enough male energy for today." She makes a shooing motion at the guys before looping her arm through mine. "We're going to go spend money now."

"What you do best," Alexei mutters under his breath, walking away.

Hayden snorts. "I'll see you at home, Darce. Have fun. Bye, Georgia."

"Wait." I take a step toward him, and Alexei pauses, waiting for Hayden. "You wanted to ask me something."

Hayden's brows snap together, and he glances between the other two. "I'll just ask you later, at home. It's not important."

As they leave, Alexei gives Georgia a lingering hostile stare over his shoulder. She does a friendly finger wave, but the second his back is turned, her hand flips to a middle finger.

"I'm guessing you and Alexei don't really get along," I say as we leave the lobby.

We step outside and she smiles up at the sky. "Oh, good, it's not raining." Her eyes slide to me. "Let's just say it's a good thing I'm not the Russian's doctor anymore. My scalpel might slip and cut off his favorite part."

I chuckle. "You don't operate on players."

"I know." She gives me an innocent, slightly wild smile, and I laugh harder.

"You don't think he's attractive?"

She makes a horrified face. "Volkov? You're kidding, right?"

An embarrassed laugh bubbles out of me as we walk down the street. "I think he's kind of hot in a scary way. He's got that merciless, mysterious thing going on."

Georgia looks stricken. "He's not actually your type, right?"

"God, no," I rush out. "I like to laugh, and I don't think Alexei actually knows how."

Born in Russia, his family immigrated to Canada when he was a kid. He doesn't have an accent, but there's something serious, watchful, and a little predatory about Alexei that I can see being attractive to the right person.

"And I'd like someone a bit friendlier," I add.

"Like Hayden." Her mouth tips up.

"No, not like Hayden." My face goes red. "We're just friends." What is it about me that makes people jump to that conclusion constantly? "Anyway, don't listen to what Alexei said about your shoes." My eyes linger on the pretty bows, so feminine and flouncy. "They're beautiful."

She kicks her foot out, admiring them with a happy sigh as we wait for the light to change. "Bright shoes cheer me up, especially when it's raining every day. The winters here can be such a bummer."

I look down at my responsible work loafers. They're not ugly or anything. They have a little gold buckle, and they're comfortable. They match the rest of my corporate wardrobe. When they wear out, I buy a new identical pair.

They're not exactly inspiring, though, and they definitely don't cheer me up. My gaze moves to Georgia's shoes.

When I look up again, she arches a brow. "Do you need to be alone with my feet?"

I give her a quick, slightly self-conscious smile. "No, I want to buy shoes like yours. I don't have anywhere to wear them and they wouldn't match anything else I own, but?—"

"If you wait for the opportunity to wear the fun things you have, you'll be waiting a while," she says softly. "Wear what you love whether it's out on a date or to the grocery store." Her mouth curls up. "You should have seen the looks I got in medical school from the male students. Profs, too. I think a pair like these would suit you," she says as the light changes and we cross. "We'll get you a pair tonight. A new pair of shoes is like an omega-3 for your soul." Her smile turns coy and playful. "I'm a doctor, so I know what I'm talking about. "

I bite back a big smile, hesitating. With her tailored clothes, shiny hair, and impractical shoes, Georgia has the put-together, polished vibe of old money. "I don't know if I can afford the places you shop."

She waves me off. "I usually buy on consignment. I hate spending money." She glances behind us, at the arena still visible from a few blocks away. "Don't tell that to the Russian, though. He thinks I'm a spoiled little rich-girl princess."

My eyes narrow, and under my studying gaze, she shifts like she's uncomfortable.

"Why does he think that?"

"Just easier, I guess." She stops in front of a storefront and gives me a broad, excited smile. "Here we are. Let's get you some beautiful clothes."