Page 331 of The Doctors Will See You Now

“In what order, exactly?” I teased. “It’ll be kind of hard for me to show up to the ceremony if I’m dead.”

She hit me again just as my phone pinged in my pocket. I held up a finger for her to hold that thought, but she just rolled her eyes and walked away. I guess she’s done with me.

I swiped the screen to read the new message, noticing at the last second it was from Pam. Goddammit. Pam.

Fingers crossed she was just texting about another meeting or the award or something.

Pam: Schedule freeing up? We should get together this weekend.

Or maybe not. Fucking shit sticks.

Me: Still really busy. Sorry.

I mean, fuck. What was I supposed to say? She’d seen me with Harlow, but I’d pretty clearly introduced her as a friend. And although Low wasn’t out graffitiing the city with proclamations of our budding relationship, she’d agreed to be open-minded, and more than that, even asked about whether or not we’d be sleeping with other people. Which it was decided that we weren’t. Obviously, we were getting there, albeit at the speed of a fucking school zone, but we were definitely getting there.

Which left me to wonder if I should just tell Pam I was seeing someone? Or would she get the hint on her own eventually?

God, this was definitely new territory. Normally, I didn’t have to maintain any contact at all, so I just didn’t. But with her working in the mayor’s office and my whole fucked-up messy involvement in that shitshow, I didn’t have the luxury.

Maybe Harlow will know what to do.

Switching over to my messages with her, I started to type out a message when Deb yelled from the other side of the room again.

Fuck. This is why dating and being a doctor never mixed.

Preconditioned to respond to her voice, I looked up immediately.

This time, though, she had her hand on a bleeding chest and a demand that I get the fuck over there immediately in her eyes.

Quick as a flash, I dropped my phone in my pocket and did just that.

“We, the city of New York, pride ourselves on being the best in every category, every profession, every park and skyscraper…”

I rolled my eyes as Brent, the mayor, prattled on about what a goddamn messiah New York City was a week later at the ceremony for my farce of an award.

Harlow was in a meeting. Thank God. Otherwise, she’d have been forced to be here covering it for Gossip, and I was already distracted enough without seeking her out in the audience every five seconds and wondering if Brent was doing the same.

He’d thanked no less than twenty people for their so-called roles in urban greatness, but make no mistake, he’d thanked not one single fucking individual more than he thanked himself.

“…And with me at the helm…”

See?

“And leaders like Dr. Scott Shepard at St. Luke’s, I know we can take everything we’ve achieved and elevate it to the next level.”

Christ, this guy was a real crock of shit. I’m sure my opinion has nothing to do with the fact that Harlow used to bang him.

But seriously. He sounded like a douche—at least to my ears.

“Today, I’d like to present Scott, and all of St. Luke’s Emergency Department, with this commendation of excellence, with specific respect to efficiency and overall treatment experience. Step up here, Scott.”

I did as I was told, rising to my feet and trying not to blink too rapidly as the cameras went off in my face. As a public event of the city, the press corner was already bursting with legitimate news outlets, including all of the major networks. But thanks to my current stint on The Doctor Is In, it was overfilled, packed to the motherfucking brim by every bloodsucking leech and paparazzi in the city. Though, I guessed the publicity from something like this could really only be good—theoretically, anyway.

Brent reached for my hand with his right and extended a glass statue in the other, all the while smiling in the direction of the cameras instead of making eye contact with me. He was a natural at this whole dog and pony show. Being in the public eye now, I decided to use him as an example of what not to do. Not for public opinion—he had that in spades—but for my opinion of myself.

The more I paid attention to all of that fake warmth, all I felt inside was cold.

“On behalf of the city of New York, thank you,” he boomed, and I just stopped myself from rolling my eyes all the way when they hit the bottom.