The Doctor's Damsel (Men of the Capital Book 3) Read Free Page B

Caliccio’s, the restaurant where I work, dumped me for a new waitress. So I’m moving into my sister’s place because fortunately she’s moving in with her fiancé. And then I nearly chopped off my hand trying to unpack my dishes.”
    “So now you have to work for the ex-boyfriend and the new girlfriend?” he asked as he finished the stitches.
    “Yeah. I’d like to quit because it’s going to be so awkward and miserable, but it’s not like I have all this acting work to fall back on or anything. So basically, everything just sucks right now,” she finished up.
    “No, trust me, of everyone I’ve seen tonight, you have the good situation. Meth addicts, battered wives, abused kids. You see a lot in this job, and none of it’s good.”
    “Your version of a pep talk makes me want to cut my wrists, doc,” she said wryly.
    “Don’t. I’d just have to stitch them up again.” He had a dimple, she noticed.
    “Don’t bother. I’ll just get my stuff and check out,” she said glumly, grabbing her purse. “Skip the ibuprofen. I’m clearly just a klutzy whiny nuisance to the medical field.”
    “Stay there,” he barked. “The nurse will be with you shortly. There’s a procedure to these things.”
    Becca sighed, about to protest, but didn’t budge. He yanked the curtain around her and turned around, working his way down.
    After the nurse came, reeling off instructions, she grabbed her purse and prepared to head out. People around her were crying and groaning, and her nerves and heart were already frayed as it was.
    “Doctor!” yelped a tiny voice.
    Becca halted at her cubicle curtain, stopped in her tracks. She peeked around the curtain, not wanting to disrupt someone, but was startled by the scene before her.
    Dr. Abrahemson knelt down beside a sobbing little girl whose arm was bandaged from fingers to shoulder. It made Becca’s stomach hurt to think what must have happened to her. Here he was, the man who had been so curt and derisive to her, deftly wrapping an identical gauze bandage around a baby doll’s right arm to match the patient’s.
    “There. She’ll be good as new in a few weeks. You take good care of this baby.” He handed the doll back to the wide-eyed child, who sniffed and nodded solemnly.
    “Th-thank you,” she whispered at a nudge from the stern woman behind her. “I love you, Dr. Abe!” she burst out, hugging his neck with her one good arm, the doll crushed between them as the doctor embraced her. Becca saw his eyes squeeze tight shut, the muscle at his jaw tense for a moment before he released her.
    “Now, Dana, I trust you’ll keep this child from having any more accidents,” he said to the woman as he stood up, iron in his voice. The woman nodded.
    “Sure, doc. She’s just a clumsy one. I got six to keep an eye on, you know.” The woman shuffled out with the child.
    Just like that, Becca plummeted into love. This time, with a doctor who thought she was a spoiled princess whining over a paper cut. A man who’d take time in the eighteenth hour of his ER shift to bend down and make a bandage for a baby doll to soothe a crying child. Tears pricked her eyes again: not an impatient, cocky doctor, but a downtrodden hero, a knight.
    She nearly ran to him and kissed him. Only the fact that he had been so stern with her held her back and she left the hospital without saying another word to him. She did, however, have a lot of words for herself on the drive home. How she could approach him, make him see her for who she was: another believer broken down by life.
    Becca tumbled into bed at the apartment. When she woke, she called her sister.
    “Hey, Han!” she bounced.
    “Good morning, Becca. You slept late,” Hannah muttered, glancing at the clock that read six in the morning.
    “I was up till after three. I had to go to the ER.”
    “Oh my lord, are you okay? What happened? Did you try to use the stove?”
    “No, and for your information, I know how to cook. None of your