“I mean, it’s kinda hot.”
Derek chucked the pillow at my face. “I’m serious.”
I let the pillow roll onto the floor before I fixed my messed-up hair. “I know. It wasn’t my finest hour.”
“And I thought you were doing better? You’re back to surgery, doing research, in good spirits…”
“I am.”
“Then why did you fuck up so bad?” Lizzie and the boys were asleep in their rooms down the hallway, so they couldn’t hear us talking in the living room.
I shrugged and rubbed my palms together. “Come on, give me a break, man. I’m a single guy, and she’s a single woman. We did nothing wrong. Was it professional? No. Was the sex good because it was so wrong? Yeah, I’m not gonna lie. But it’s not going to happen again, so whatever. It’s over.”
“Even if it is over, the damage is done.”
“She’s not like that.”
“She’s a woman. They’re all like that.”
I turned to him. “That’s sexist, and you know it. She’s a gorgeous woman who’s got brains. If she wanted a husband, she would have had one. She doesn’t. We don’t work together and she’s not my mentor anymore, so there’s no harm.”
Derek faced forward but shook his head anyway.
Emerson came from the kitchen in the rear. “Derek, let it go.” She had a glass of wine in her hand, wearing sweatpants and one of his t-shirts. When she approached the couch, her fingertips moved through his short, dark hair before he leaned back against the couch so she could sit on his lap.
His arm moved over her thighs and his other hand cupped her ass, but he sighed in annoyance.
“Yeah,” I said. “Listen to your wife.”
Her arm circled his shoulders as she sipped her wine.
“And you’re one to talk,” I said. “You hooked up with your assistant.”
Derek turned back to me, his eyes narrowed. “You’re always going on and on about how hot Sicily is.”
“What? She is. You want me to lie and say she looks like a gargoyle?”
“How can you lie when I never ask?” he countered. “I don’t ask if you think Sicily is hot. You just say it.”
“Come on. If you look at a piece of art, you comment on it. You say it’s beautiful or whatever.”
His eyebrows furrowed. “Are you saying Sicily is like a piece of art?”
“Sure…if you want to put it that way.” Her fashion was definitely on point, and her eyes were bright like stars in the sky on a dark night. She had that sexy booty and those nice tits. I was her boss, but I was also a single, straight dude, and it was impossible not to notice.
“What would Dad think?” Derek asked.
My neck snapped back toward him. “You seriously going to tattle on me?”
“No,” he snapped. “But you know he would be disappointed.”
“Because I slept with an older woman?” I asked incredulously.
“Because you slept with your teacher, your mentor,” he argued. “That’s so unprofessional.”
“Yes, I know,” I said in a bored voice. “No arguments there. For the first time in my life, I did whatever the fuck I felt like doing. I did something without thinking twice about it. I’m such a terrible person.”
Emerson turned to look at her husband, giving him a look of accusation.
Derek sighed, like he knew he was being harsh, without his wife looking at him like that. “You’re right. I’m overreacting a bit. I guess I’m just surprised you would do something like that and get caught up in something that can be really messy and really awkward.”
I shrugged. “Like I said, a sexy woman wanted me, and I couldn’t say no.”
Derek finally dropped it. “So, how is it going with work?”
“No complaints.” I was operating on patients every week with no fatalities, getting back into the swing of things like that year-long break hadn’t happened in the first place. “Sicily is making me see patients in half the time, and while I was pissed at first, I realized it was necessary. It’s the same problem we’ve always had, lots of sick people and not enough providers. It sucks. And with all my positions, we’re trying to juggle everything, and it’s just impossible. I’m seeing patients on Saturdays now.”
“Really?” Derek asked in surprise.
I nodded. “Just half day. And then I cut back on research and teaching to accommodate more patients. We’re trying to shove everything into these tiny slots, so we have to keep moving the pieces to make them fit. And while they fit better, they’ll never really fit perfectly.”
“What about Doctors Without Borders?”