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She’d decided, after her pitiful, stumbling apology, and especially their ride in the elevator, that he was a good guy, even if he didn’t know it. He’d had the patience of a saint while she’d fumbled her way through her monologue, and he’d rewarded her by telling her to call him Johnny. Who else on the staff got to call him Johnny? Not that she ever would, at least not in front of anyone else, especially as he’d asked her to keep it to herself.

“Hey, Johnny.” Another doctor entered the room.

So much for the short-lived “special person privilege” fantasy.

“Dave. Come to admire your work?”

“Sure did.”

Polly surreptitiously read the other doctor’s badge. David Winters. Vascular Surgery. Of course, with the amputation they’d have to make sure the stump had proper circulation, and who better to assist the orthopedic surgeon than a vascular surgeon?

“I was going to wait until later to change the dressing, but there’s no time like the present. Polly, can you bring some gauze, dressings, four by fours and paper tape?”

“Sure. Would you like me to bring the Doppler too?”

“Great idea,” Dave said.

She knew it was never too early to make sure there was proper circulation to the wound, and the Doppler would let them hear the blood flowing through Annabelle’s vessels. A lot rested on every step of the recovery. In order to have Annabelle fit for a prosthetic device she’d need to have a strong and healthy stump. The post op-team, including Polly, would do everything in their power to make sure of Annabelle’s success.

After dropping off the supplies, Polly took a quick look at Annabelle’s surgical wound as John had already removed the dressing, and was surprised how clean and healthy the skin flap already looked. Cancer of the bone was a curse, but at least Annabelle would be able to wear one of the state-of-the-art prostheses being created these days. One day, when she was back on her feet and used to everything, wearing slacks or jeans, secure in her gait, no one would ever know that part of her leg was missing.

Later that day Polly took Charley his pills. She noticed the three signatures John Griffin had left on the teenager’s casts, which made her grin. They were big, just like him, and colorful, hmm, and he had much nicer handwriting than she’d ever imagined any doctor could.

“What’s so funny?” Charley asked.

“Nothing. I was just admiring your autographs from Dr. Griffin.”

“He’s cool.”

“Really? He seems so stern all the time.”

“Nah, he’s funny. And he’s the only person who hasn’t given me a lecture about my skateboarding.”

“Well, I guess accidents do happen, but maybe you should be more careful so as not to tempt the fates.”

“Yeah, I get it. And I’ve heard that before, but yolo, you know?”

“Yolo?”

“You only live once.”

So said a sixteen-year-old. “True, but preferably longer than shorter. Right?”

Charley blew her off with a toss of his long-hair. She needed to change the subject back to something lighter, something more interesting for both of them.

“I never would have pegged Dr. Griffin as funny.”

“No? You should see him do his Aquaman drowning imitation. And he can sing like that weird guy who got kicked off that TV talent show last season, too.”

“Are we talking about the same doctor?”

“Definitely. He’s a laugh all right.”

“Never in a million years would I have thought Dr. Griffin was funny or talented. I mean, the man seems to take himself far too seriously, in my opinion.” A second too late, she saw Charley’s eyes go wide.

“Is that so?” Johnny Griffin’s familiar voice flowed over her shoulder.

“Oh! Hey. We were just talking about you.” Heat rushed to her cheeks.

“So I heard.”

“I’m afraid you’re going to have to do your Aquaman impersonation for me before I believe Charley here.”

Charley smiled and, amazingly, so did Johnny-boy. A look passed between them like a secret handshake.

“Stop by my office after work and I’ll be glad to give you the whole routine,” he said, sounding as though he might be flirting. Really? In front of a patient?

She pointed at him. “I’m tempted to call your bluff on that, Doctor.”

“I dare you,” he said, a playful, sparkly glint in his otherwise dead-serious eyes. Eyes that were becoming more and more intriguing each time she dared to look into them.

The rock-steady gaze caused a response that zipped down her spine with a surprise destination. What was going on here?

She wasn’t sure, but one thing she was positive about, she needed to leave the patient’s room before Dr. Griffin got an inkling of how much he’d just excited her.

* * *

Polly’s cell phone rang during lunch the next day and she was surprised to see who was calling. It was Greg. She hadn’t responded to his text from yesterday. Why the persistence all of a sudden?

“What’s up, Greg?” She tried to sound nonchalant.

“Did you get my text?”

“Oh, uh, I’ve been working a lot. I guess I missed it.” She wasn’t above lying to someone who’d lied to her. Repeatedly.

He went into his spiel about coming to New York in two weeks and how he hoped to take her out to dinner and maybe even to see a Broadway play. This couldn’t be the Greg she’d once known. Would he actually want to take her to an expensive play on Broadway? Not likely. Unless he’d finally come to his senses about what a prize she was. Again, not likely. Maybe he thought he could come to New York on business and cheat on his girlfriend with her while he was here? As in letting history repeat itself.

She wouldn’t put a sleazy plan like that past him.

One thing was sure—she wouldn’t have to find out if she didn’t accept his invitation.

“Can you give me a couple days to think this over, Greg?”

“Look, I understand I treated you pretty rotten last year, but I’d really like to see you again.”

“Give me a couple days, okay?”

She hung up before he could say another word, desperate to talk over this invitation with someone else. Her best friend back home worked the evening shift and Polly didn’t feel comfortable yet about opening up to anyone on staff about her personal issues.