"LOOK, Liv, his holy hotness is here already!" Julie nudges me with her elbow while we wait for the cloakroom girl to hand us our ticket.

My eyes dart around the quickly filling room before I find him sitting at a table in a quiet corner, sipping a pint of beer and checking his mobile. Even from here, without the white coat and dressed just in jeans and a casual shirt, he looks quite handsome indeed.

I remember vaguely meeting him a couple of times before, me reciprocating when he greeted, but only out of professional courtesy.

Was it in the lift? Maybe in the kitchen? I don't know, I've never really paid attention to the man until today. My life has been in such a gloriously emotional cauldron, I barely have the energy to drag myself out of bed and into that goddamn hospital, let alone to socialise with some lonely co-worker needing to make friends.

God, I'm such an awful person, aren't I? That or I'm not ready for any of this. The thought makes my legs quake a little and for a moment I wonder if I shouldn't look for some dumb excuse and go home instead.

As we make our way through the club and my heart picks up the pace of the pulsing Latin tunes, Dr Green looks up and greets us with a smile. A gorgeous boyish smile I don't get the chance to fully admire because my mobile begins to vibrate.

A quick check and my stomach clenches. It's Filipe. 

Determined not to let him ruin my night, I swipe the finger across the screen and reject the call. "Screw you!" I mutter under my breath.

"Everything all right?" Julie turns and cocks her head at me, attempting to read me.

No, it's not. I'm about to go into panic mode―but hopefully, it's true what they say: if you repeat a lie many times, you start believing in it.

"Good. It'll be fun, you'll see." A salacious grin creeps on Julie's face before she whispers into my ear, "Be cool. Be calm. Just imagine you wrapped up in each other, warm beneath the covers..."

I push her playfully. "Shut up!"

"Imagine him in all his naked grace. And his hands on your naked body, his tongue tormenting you..."

"Get out of my face."

"I bet he's a dynamo in bed," she continues, with the same malicious twinkle in her eyes.

"You're a verydisturbed person, Julie McDuffie!" 

"Tom! I'm sorry if we're a bit late. Blame it on this awful traffic. And on Pablo. It took him an eternity and two days to pick us up," Julie banters, winking at her boyfriend.

Pablo shrugs, playing along. The poor guy waited almost an hour for us. "How are you, man?"

"Great. Yourself?" They shake hands and Tom turns to me, tall, green-eyed and handsome, his smile warm and pleasing. "Hello, Olivia. So nice to finally meet you."

"Nice to meet you too. I think we've already bumped into each other a couple times, haven't we?"

Looking up toward his face, I hold out my hand, which he only takes to pull me gently and greet me with a kiss on both cheeks.

My phone vibrates another time, announcing a new text coming in. I shudder inwardly. Dammit, I should have turned the bloody thing off!

"Thank you, guys, for the invite. This place is really cool," Tom says looking around.

"You're welcome. In fact, we should have done this before. How are you getting along?" Julie asks as we all make ourselves comfortable around the table.

"Still settling in. I'd been in the city a few times before but transitioning from tourist to local is a bigger challenge than I anticipated."

"You bet it is." Julie agrees. "From crazy rules and regulations to making yourself understood! If I hadn't these two around, it'd have been a bloody nightmare. It really helps a lot when you mingle with the right people. What about that flat you talked about the other day? Did you close the deal?"

"I did! I'm finally leaving the hotel room later this week. The rest of my stuff is already on its way. In fact, we could–"

Filipe | Friday, 22 May | 22:35 > Tomorrow, be in my office at 8. Need to update you on the OGNP. Check your mailbox for the new guidelines.

Is this a bloody joke? In fact, I know of a place where he can shove his updates and always so important meetings, but after careful consideration, I decide I'm not going to give him the satisfaction of telling him what it is right now. He's on a quest to drive me insane, but I won't let him get to me. The hell I will.

Though seething inside, I force myself to appear relaxed as I put the phone on mute and tuck it in my purse.

"So, who's in the mood for a margarita?" I ask with my hand raised in the air, my eyes bouncing to the smart-looking waitress who has just approached our table.

Damn, I should leave it all behind and apply for a job in some place I never heard of, that's what I should do! The idea's been brewing in my mind for a while now, but these past few days it's seriously beginning to take shape.

What a control junkie, always reprimanding people for anything and everything! Half of our department is on the verge of a meltdown, everyone's so sick and tired of his psycho-terror. I can't take it much longer either, his plain ridiculous not to mention unethical moves to get us back together. For God's sake, that's–

"What do you think? Fancy the idea? You're in?" With an expectant look on his face, Tom rests a hand over mine, the warm touch bringing me back from my thoughts.

"Excuse me?" I'm totally lost.

"Where's your head at, darling?" Julie asks. "Next weekend. You up for a dinner at Tom's new apartment? To celebrate his coming to live here?"

"That's a lovely idea. Sure, count me in."

*

"A man lying in a hospital bed, wearing an oxygen mask over his mouth, mumbles Doctor, are my testicles black?" Pablo snorts a laugh. "The doctor raises his gown, holds his cock in one hand and his bollocks in the other. Then she takes a closer look and says There's nothing wrong with them, sir. The man pulls off the oxygen mask, smiles and says very slowly: Thank you for checking on that. But listen very, very carefully–"

"Are-my-test-results-back?" Julie finishes Pablo's joke, her long dragged out voice making everyone crack a loud laugh.

Between Tom's adventures in a new country, the most bizarre divorce cases Pablo has seen in court, and Julie's reflections on the challenges of going braless, time seems to have flown by.

After a merciless delivery of the most insane hospital jokes, I hold up my fourth margarita of the night, and point at Pablo, making a mock-threatening gesture. "Since you're such a smartass, how about I give you a taste of your own medicine?"

Pablo looks earnestly into my eyes, the amused expression morphing into a serious demeanour. "You threatening me?"

Skipping the straw, I take a long swig directly from the encrusted rim, licking my lips to make sure I get every scrap of the salt-citrus flavour.

"Scared of me, are you?" I ask, narrowing my eyes at him, menacingly.

"Yeah, I'm shaking. Come on, show me what you've got."

"Tell me, how many lawyers does it take to screw in a light bulb?

He nods for me to continue.

"Three. One to climb the ladder. One to shake it. And one to sue the ladder company. Next one. What's the difference between a lawyer and God?"

He doesn't react and Julie's eyes dart from him back to me and to him again. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Tom smirking, clearly entertained by the scene.

I clear my throat. "I'm certain God doesn't think he's a lawyer."

Pablo fidgets in his chair and shoots me another deadly stare.

"Why does the Law Society prohibit sex between lawyers and their clients?"

"I'm sure you have a brilliant explanation for that."

"To prevent clients from being billed twice for the same service."

"Young lady, you're about to get on my shit list," Pablo retorts.

A snort of laughter escapes me, but I quickly compose myself. "What do you lawyers get when we give you Viagra?"

"What is this? The fucking Spanish Inquisition?" He shoots Julie a quick look as if asking for backup. A hysterical chuckle is all he gets, though.

"Taller. You get taller."

"Jesus, woman, you're mean. You're downright evil."

I reach over and pull his lips up, mimicking a smile. "Have you ever thought a doctor is the only man who can tell your wife to take off all her clothes and then send the bill to you? And you cannot even sue the bastard for that."

Julie almost chokes on her drink with laughter. "Come to think of it, the idiot that tiptoed away from the delivery room yesterday should be sued indeed. There she was, on her back, screaming in agony about to deliver their child, asking him to hold her hand. But guess what? The miserable prick left because he wasn't feeling quite well. Moron!"

I nod, fully agreeing. "I know, right? Men always like to see themselves as tough and strong, but then when they get slapped with that extra dose of reality, they just can't take it. Typical. If humanity depended on you, guys, we'd be all doomed. In fact, it would have ceased to exist a long time ago."

"That is the greatest nonsense I've ever heard! Nothing but a stereotypical..." Tom trails off when I wave a dismissing hand.

"Let's forget about the romanticised version of childbirth for a moment, okay? Almost every labour is a stressful, painful event. It's invasive, we're on display in front of strangers, it's embarrassing. There is not a chance in hell men would have the balls to go through that!"

"Sure, we would. If we had to."

"Good thing the topic will always remain strictly hypothetical, isn't it, Dr Green?"

"Hey, man, aren't you going to back me up on this?" Tom turns to the other man at the table.

To his disappointment, Pablo holds up his hands in surrender. "No, man. I don't want to cause any international incident."

Julie chuckles, a deep, resonant chuckle. "Cut the crap, Tom. You wouldn't stop whining about it. Back pain. Sore breasts. Cramps. Insomnia. The sodding list is so damn long. What about getting up fifteen times a night to pee? Morning sickness?"

"That one would be probably handled as the nation's number one health problem," I add.

"Followed by prepartum depression... the moment they stopped seeing their penises!" Julie high-fives me before she reaches for Pablo's hand. "Love this song! Come on, babe, let's dance."

"Can I get you anything else?" Thomas asks after they've left us, angling himself towards me.

"No, thanks. I'm feeling light-headed enough as it is... How did you get into this fellowship program again? Thinking maybe I should consider that possibility myself."

"There was an international call. An excellent opportunity for advanced research in a field I've been working for a while now."

"Which is?"

"Understanding the molecular mechanisms that underlie brain cancer. It involves analysing human biopsies, generating primary cultures of tumour cells..." He stops suddenly. Smouldering eyes peer into my own. "Can I take you out to dinner sometime soon?"

"You've been zigzagging me all night, haven't you?"

"I've been what?" His face scrunches up a little before it breaks into a smile. A cute smug smile.

"You've been either looking into my eyes or at my mouth."

He leans closer, his gaze fixed on my mouth. "You've got very beautiful eyes."

I can't stifle my laughter, the light tipsiness obviously getting the best of me. "Listen, Tom. This,"―I wave a finger at the space between us―"isn't going to happen."

"You just broke my heart, Dr Burke." The edges of his eyes crinkle.

I tap his hand in a comforting gesture. "You'll be okay, don't worry. There's plenty of fish in this sea, Dr Green. But, hey, want to dance?"

"That's not my best attribute, I'm afraid."

"Then you'd better get that chair off your butt and learn fast if you want to impress some ladies around here."

*

In the distance, the window shutters groan open and scream inside my throbbing head. As if that wasn't painful enough, a strong light pours between the curtains and hits me straight in the face, crashing violently against this too-many-margaritas-induced haze.

Shit!

My exhausted body squirms a little before I dive deep into the duvet, curling myself into a ball, shoving my face into the pillow.

"Vamos, levántate." A distant yet familiar male voice wanders to me. "Get up. Get up now."

"Go away!"

"Olivia!" The voice pushes the covers back and sits on the edge of the bed.

I struggle to open my eyes.

What the fu... Shock and surprise shoot me bolt upright in bed. "Filipe! What are you doing here? What time is it?"

"Ten. Where the hell have you been last night? And why is there a guy in the kitchen?"

"That's none of your damn business, surely."

"He's wearing my clothes."

"I asked you a hundred times to come and grab your stuff, but you never did. I finally gave them some use."

"New boyfriend?"

"No." I give him my most sarcastic smile. "I guess I'm a little sensitive to the idea of such type of commitment lately."

That'd be Tom, actually. Last night he walked me home and we ended up chatting away up until very late. I invited him to crash in the guest room, and that's all. Nothing happened.

"So you just let him fuck you?"

"I owe you an explanation because?" I give him a defiant look, trying to breathe past the knot lodged in my throat. "Just say what you want and leave."

"You didn't come to the meeting this morning."

"Don't know about any meeting. Last time I checked, my shift started in the afternoon."

"Why didn't you pick up the goddamned phone?"

"What's wrong with you?" I jump out of bed, fully irritated. "We're done. Finis. Over. Why don't you just let me be? I'm so sick and tired of your stupid games, your useless attempts to–"

"Tell your loverboy he has to go. I'm getting you on the next flight to London. It's your grandfather. Your parents are already on their way."

~~~

Thanks for reading!

Ana xo