The Man Ban - Nicola Marsh Page 0,65

bar. She should’ve expected it, but she’d been too busy wasting time mulling over Colin to think about it.

“Hi, Harper,” Pia said. “You and Manny disappeared pretty fast last night.”

“You two are seriously loved up,” Samira added, making smoochy sounds. “So how are things in Lovesville?”

“He got called into the hospital last night, so just peachy.”

“Someone sounds a little shitty because they didn’t get any loving last night,” Samira said with a snicker.

“Don’t listen to her,” Pia said. “I heard about that multicar pileup on the news. Must be tough dealing with that.”

“I was thinking the same thing.” Harper liked these women, but Pia was definitely the more intuitive. “You’re both in the health industry. Does it ever get you down, dealing with people’s problems all day?”

“I do get sick of it sometimes,” Samira said, sounding surprisingly somber. “Every patient who walks into my office is in pain and wants to be fixed. When I mention the E word so they can help themselves, they equate exercise with lying on the couch and doing nothing proactive.”

“Speech therapists don’t get as much of the heavy stuff,” Pia said. “Especially working in private practice like I do. But speechies in hospitals deal with a lot of poststroke rehab, so teaching people how to swallow again, that kind of thing. It can be draining.”

“Why are you asking this? Did Manny say something?”

Harper shook her head before realizing the girls couldn’t see her. “No, but seeing him rush off last night while I chilled in bed with a book made the vast differences between us more noticeable.”

“Between your jobs, you mean,” Samira clarified.

“Yeah, I guess . . .” Though that hadn’t been all, and Harper knew it. Seeing him so focused after that call last night, watching him dash off, clarified that to someone like him, his job would always come first.

Not that he’d ever make her feel second-best; he wasn’t that kind of guy. And she’d never put him in the position of having to choose between her and his job, but being head of an ER in a major hospital came with responsibilities, and she had a feeling last night would be the first of many times Manny would be called away from her.

Crazy, to be having these thoughts after they’d only been officially dating a few days, but Colin had often made her feel second-best and she knew some of her residual angst stemmed from that.

“For what it’s worth, by what we saw last night, if Manny had a choice between going into work and spending time with you, there’s no contest; he’d choose you every time,” Samira said.

“He only has eyes for you, that’s for sure,” Pia added. “After you left, Sam and I chastised Rory and Dev for not looking at us the way Manny looks at you.”

Harper chuckled. “Girls, we haven’t been dating long. They don’t call it the honeymoon period for nothing.”

Besides, she’d give anything to have what Samira and Pia had: keepers. A guy around for the long haul. A guy to accept her, every flawed inch. A guy who would always choose her.

“It was nice hanging out last night. When Nishi gets back, we should get her and Arun into our cozy clique too,” Samira said. “It’s great to have a group where everyone gets along, the guys and the girls.”

“Sounds good,” Pia said, “but don’t expect to see us every week. Dev and I are technically back in that honeymoon period.”

Samira made a gagging sound. “Okay, all you loved-up couples can stick to your honeymoons while I wrangle a baby and a husband who’s auditioning for another role that will take him away from home for a few months.”

“Auntie Pia is always available for babysitting . . . after the honeymoon,” Pia said, and they laughed.

An e-mail popped up on the laptop screen in front of Harper, with job offer in the subject line.

“Thanks for the call, girls, but I have to go. Work beckons.”

“Bye,” Samira and Pia said in unison, before hanging up, leaving Harper to check her e-mail.

She’d been asked to style a hospital fundraiser, a silent auction charity night at a swanky Docklands venue. Full buffet of fancy finger food. The kind of job she didn’t like because it was finicky and all it took was one canapé to look off center and the whole platter suffered. But she couldn’t afford to turn her back on any jobs at this stage, and she fired off an acceptance with her fee. Confirmation