“Yep, they do. And now it’s usually just us doctors who have them.”
She breathed a little easier because the code displayed on the pager was the one used for “Urgent, Not Critical” situations, which meant “Call in but don’t break any traffic laws getting here.”
“I wondered why you kept moving your purse from room to room with you!” Rachel stated.
“No, that was just to keep the maids at your little hotel here from stealing my stuff,” Ainsley retorted. “I need to call in. Sorry.”
Rachel made a no worries gesture, which Ainsley appreciated. She had learned that although lots of women say they want to date doctors, that only lasted until those women actually started dating a doctor. Even though being a surgeon meant she had a little more control over her schedule, it didn’t mean that she wasn’t immune from being called into work unexpectedly.
She picked up her iPhone, called Scripps Memorial and was immediately routed to Dr. Bassett, chief of general surgery and her direct boss. He told her that she was needed for a surgery consult for a possible colectomy.
“And you might as well prepare to scrub in too,” he added, telling her that the patient, a fifty-seven-year-old woman was in the ER now.
After telling her boss that she’d get there asap, she turned to Rachel.
“Hey, sorry, but I need to go.”
“Totally understand,” Rachel said. “I’m just bummed you can’t eat first.”
“I know! And after you cooked for me!” Ainsley pouted. “Walk with me,” she said. She needed to get her stuff from Rachel’s bedroom and bathroom. As they headed towards that part of the house, Ainsley said, “I really hope you’re not thinking terribly of me. Especially dashing off after our first night together.”
Rachel laughed.
“Ains, really, don’t worry. I may not be surgeon but I might as well tell you that as a real estate agent, there will be plenty of times when I won’t be available when you want me.”
Ainsley decided the patient could afford to wait for the length of a decent kiss. Turning Rachel to face her, she brought her face down and claimed Rachel’s lips in a passionate one that was part longing, part appreciation.
“Thank you!” she whispered afterwards. Then she set about finding her belongings—her dress, underwear and high heels from last night—and placing them in her small travel duffel. Then she slipped out of her pj pants and pulled on a pair of jeans. Next, the gray Stanford sweatshirt she had slept in came off. She covered her breasts with a sports bra and then put on a black fitted tee.
“Speaking of inconvenient schedules,” Rachel said, watching her. “I won’t be able to make volleyball tomorrow.”
Ainsley looked over at her, an expression of dismay on her face.
“Two showings,” Rachel said with an apologetic shrug.
Going into the bathroom to collect her toiletries, Ainsley said, “Well, fuck! I guess that means the rest of us will go back to totally sucking tomorrow!”
In a moment, she was ready to go. She found the Skechers she had brought with her and slipped them on.
“This means you’re seeing me tonight,” Ainsley stated, heading toward the front of the house.
“Ooh! Yes, ma’am, Dr. Janowicz! I love it when you’re so bossy!”
Ainsley laughed.
“Sorry! I didn’t mean to be! But, seriously, you are seeing me tonight…”
“I can’t wait, really. And, seriously, the bossiness does it for me.”
Ainsley laughed again.
“I’ll keep that in mind. Okay, I’m ready,” Ainsley said, her travel duffel slung over one shoulder. “Wait…what are you doing?”
Rachel was sliding her feet into a pair of flip-flops that were by the front door and gathering up her purse.
“Tell me, Ms. Brilliant Surgeon…were you going to just flap your arms and fly to the hospital?”
Shit!