Moonlight Over Manhattan: A charming, heart-warming and lovely read that won’t disappoint!

“Marilyn Monroe.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Really? I didn’t know.”

“There’s an interview where she talks about it. So how do you manage with your job? Aren’t you constantly required to talk to strangers?”

“Yes, but my sister does that part. New business, bookings, she handles that side of things.” She slid onto the chair next to him, her fingers grasping her wineglass. She didn’t trust her own powers of speech, and it was an awful feeling. She wasn’t sure if alcohol would make it worse or better. “I live life in my comfort zone.”

“That wasn’t how it seemed the other night when I saw you in the emergency room.”

“That was me trying to leave my comfort zone. You saw how it turned out.” Oh what the heck. She took a gulp of wine and felt it slide into her veins. The words were loose and flowing again. She could almost pretend she’d imagined what had happened. Almost, but not quite. It had happened. And it could happen again. Maybe on one level she’d always known that, but she’d gotten complacent. But maybe complacency was a good thing. Worrying, anxiety, made it worse. “I think we’d both agree I’m a work in progress.”

“But you went on a date with a stranger. You didn’t stammer?”

She put her glass down. “He didn’t give me a chance to talk. But I did manage about four short sentences, which was more than I managed on the date before him.”

His eyes gleamed and he leaned forward to top up her wine. “Sounds as if you’ve had some thrilling dates.”

“The best.” She found herself smiling too. She also found herself wishing someone like Ethan had been her blind date, which made no sense at all because less than half an hour earlier she’d left the apartment and braved snow rather than stay in the same space as him. “I’m done with it now.”

“You’ve finished dating? Aren’t you a little young to give up on love?”

Why was he asking her so many questions?

He’d shown more interest in her than the three men she’d dated put together.

“I’m not giving up on love. I’m giving up on internet dating.” She hadn’t thought about it until that moment, but she realized she meant it. After the last guy, she’d never believe anything she read about anyone again. She needed to be able to look into their eyes and judge whether they seemed honest or not. “Which probably means no more dating at all. It’s not easy meeting people.”

“That’s true.”

She hadn’t expected him to agree with her. “You must meet people all the time at the hospital.”

“Not really. I don’t date patients, obviously, and most of my colleagues are too busy to even think about connecting socially, even if we could get past the awkwardness of dating someone you see every day.”

She’d always assumed that dating was easy for everyone else. That she was the only one who found the whole thing daunting and overwhelming.

Harriet wondered if she still counted as a patient, and then wondered why she was even thinking that.

She’d assumed someone like him would be married with two cute kids.

It hadn’t occurred to her he’d be single.

What was wrong with the world?

Unsettled by her own thought processes she made a joke. “Maybe you should try internet dating. Put ‘doctor’ down and you’ll be inundated. Especially when people realize you actually are a doctor.”

“I’m nobody’s idea of a dream date, Harriet.”

He would have been her dream date.

Where had that thought come from? Flustered, she took a sip of her wine, reminding herself that he didn’t like dogs. She could never be with anyone who didn’t like dogs, even if he was a good listener and had eyes that made her think of blue skies and long summer days.

“You’re too hard on yourself. Shrek would seem like a dream date compared to the last three guys I met.”

“I’ve never been compared to Shrek before. I may need therapy to get over that one.”

At least he had a sense of humor. “You said you lost a patient. How do you handle that?”

The worst thing she handled in her working day was misbehaving dogs and inclement weather.

“Tonight I handled it by losing my temper with you.” His tone was dry, his words self-deprecating. “Normally? I deal with it by filing it away as part of the job. It’s not something I usually talk about. I can’t believe I did. I assume it was a pathetic attempt on my part to induce a pity response that might lead to forgiveness.”

She loved his honesty. Her respect for him grew. “People don’t expect doctors to show their feelings. Which must make it hard. You’re supposed to be caring, but still detached. How does that even work?”

“Sometimes it doesn’t. Generally it’s easier in the emergency room. The people I see are strangers. I don’t have the connection with them that doctors in other specialties might. My father works in primary care, and there are some families he has been seeing for thirty years. When he loses a patient he grieves right along with the family. I learned to handle my feelings a long time ago. Most doctors do. You learn to put up emotional boundaries.”

“But putting up boundaries doesn’t mean you’re not feeling it, does it? When you walked through that door earlier you were on edge. Irritable and upset. That’s why you lost your temper over nothing.”

“I’m willing to concede that I was wrong in my response to the situation, but I will not admit that the destruction of my apartment was nothing.”

Harriet finished her wine. “I’m sitting here because you told me you had lost a patient. If you’re now telling me that it had no effect on you, I’m going to walk through that door and I’ll be taking Madi with me.”

“My sister was so wrong about you. She told me you were gentle. She never mentioned you were ruthless and capable of blackmail.” He reached to top up her glass again but she shook her head and covered the glass with her fingers.

“No more. It’s cold out there. I don’t want to slip and bang my head on the way home. I especially don’t want to be taken to the emergency room.”

He put the bottle down. “Because now you know I work there.”

“No, because you’re not on duty tonight.” She spoke without thinking and saw the surprise flicker across his face. She was surprised too. No more wine, Harriet. “I mean because you’re obviously a good doctor. No other reason. And I’m only ruthless when it comes to protecting animals.”

He looked at her for a moment and then stood up. “I’ll order the food. Is there anything you don’t eat?”

“No, but if you tell me what there is in your fridge I can cook it. I’m a good cook.”

“In that case you are definitely going to cook for me one day, but tonight I was thinking more of takeout.” He pulled open a drawer and spread a selection of flyers in front of her. “There’s a Thai restaurant round the corner where the food is so good it makes you want to move to the Far East. Or we could go with pizza if you prefer.”

“Thai sounds delicious, but the menu looks baffling.” And the prices high. Their business was doing well, but there had been enough years where they’d scraped by to make Harriet balk at the idea of spending hard-earned dollars on food she could produce herself.

“If you don’t have any allergies, you can leave it with me.” He picked up the phone. The fact that he ordered without a pause and without once consulting the menu told her that he frequently made the same call.

She remembered seeing him in action in the hospital and sensed he was used to giving orders. Also to knowing what he was doing.

“Isn’t every day bad where you work?”

“Some are worse than others. Today was particularly difficult, and there were complicating circumstances.”

“You see a lot of things.” Things she probably couldn’t imagine, least of all deal with on a daily basis.

“The people who come through the department are often under a tremendous amount of stress. They’re anxious and scared, and that can translate into aggression. People want things done right away, and when that doesn’t happen they’re not happy.”