The Best Medicine (4 page)

“I wouldn’t know.” Lauren started picking at the bread that was on the table to try to keep herself occupied. What she didn’t want to tell her friends was that she’d been thinking about Scott since lunch. And not in a negative way. The exterior of him was polished, refined—like a work of art. But she knew there had to be more beneath all of that. It made him appealing to Lauren in ways she couldn’t even begin to explain.

She wanted to get to know him better—to see what was hiding beneath his facade. She would bet almost anything that she’d be a different person at the end of it, and she wasn’t completely sure whether that would be a good or a bad thing. But what she did know was that, if the opportunity arose, it was a gamble she was willing to take.

“Since you’re going to be a doctor someday, are you
going to get one of those complexes?” Simone asked with a smirk.

“I sure hope so,” Lauren replied with a smile before throwing a piece of bread in her mouth and deciding that she was probably already more like Dr. Scott than she was comfortable with.

Spastic Paraparesis

As Scott waited in line at the Starbucks in the hospital lobby on the way into work, he wondered what the day ahead held for him. A part of him was happy that Lauren would be spending the day in Pediatrics—mainly because he didn’t know quite how to act around her, what to say. And that uncertainty threw him. Confidence was something he prided himself on. Scott always knew the right thing to say and how to say it—especially around women.

But Lauren Hastings was an enigma. One that made him uneasy. It was as if he’d finally met his match in her. Right when he thought he’d said something that would throw her a little off-balance and give him the advantage, she’d hurl a comment right back at him. But before he could think about it much longer, a familiar voice interrupted him.

“What’ll it be today, Dr. Scott? Try something new for a change?”

“What do you have in mind, Cheyenne?”

“How about something sweet? Caramel flan latte?” The heavyset black woman smiled as she waited for Scott’s answer.

“Well, you know I can’t turn down something sweet,” Scott said with a wink. “You know, they should really give all of you a raise down here. Taking care of all of us like this,” he called to all of the workers as he pointed to the line of doctors and nurses behind him. “I’m basically useless without my daily jolt of caffeine. You guys don’t get the credit you deserve.”

The baristas rolled their eyes and chuckled at Scott’s compliment, but seemed flattered all the same. “Don’t I know it,” Cheyenne replied.

To those who didn’t know him, Scott’s comment may have seemed gratuitous or perhaps even patronizing, but anyone who’d spent any amount of time with him knew he meant every word. Scott appreciated little things, and the way in which he interacted with people let them know his words were genuine. “How’s Jeffrey’s cold, by the way? He feeling better?” Scott asked as he handed the woman a five and told her to keep the change.

“Much better, thanks. Little guy slept it off the last few days and is back to being the little spawn of Satan that he is.

Scott smiled and fixed his tie. “Glad to hear it,” he said before grabbing his coffee and turning toward the door. “See you ladies tomorrow.”

*   *   *

Lauren strolled into Pediatrics Thursday morning excited to get the day started. A handful of sick kids would be just what she needed to take her mind off of Dr. Scott. After her conversation with the girls, she couldn’t help
but let her thoughts drift to him. Admittedly, he was hot. There was no denying that. But was she really contemplating digging beneath that? And after her tirade yesterday, was
he
even willing to let her try?

Thankfully, as she spent time coloring pictures of Disney princesses and playing video games, the morning passed quickly, and it was easy to focus on something other than Dr. Scott. Finally, lunch rolled around, and it couldn’t have come at a better time because Lauren was starving. She said her good-byes to the kids and the staff and headed downstairs to grab her lunch.

“What are we feasting on today?” Lauren asked her mom with a laugh.

“I just packed ham and cheese sandwiches and some fruit. Nothing special. I’m happy you’re planning to eat with us today.” Pam handed Lauren her brown bag and took a seat at the table in the middle of the small office kitchen.

“Actually,” Lauren hesitated as she took her lunch from her mother, “I was thinking of heading downstairs again. I brought my laptop so I can look up what books I have to get for the new semester. I plan to head over to school after I’m done here for the day to pick them up. This whole working professional thing is cramping my academic style,” Lauren said with a smirk.

“Fine, fine,” her mother said. “I see how it is. I provide you with proper nourishment and you leave me for bigger and better things.”

“Well, as long as you understand what’s happening. Glad to see we’re on the same page.” Lauren laughed. “See you in a bit. Thanks for the, uh . . . nourishment,” she said holding up the brown bag before giving her mom a
peck on the cheek and hurrying downstairs toward the cafeteria.

*   *   *

For the second day in a row, Scott found himself in the cafeteria. Well, he didn’t so much
find
himself there as he actively sought it out. He’d seen Lauren exit the office, lunch in hand. And as if by instinct, he’d left the Thai food he’d ordered sitting out on his desk. Instead, he’d filled his cafeteria tray with a grilled chicken salad and an apple—the healthiest option the hospital provided. It was bad enough he’d come downstairs to eat. He didn’t want to be subjected to whatever slop the cafeteria passed off as appetizing cuisine.

As he paid for his meal and picked up some napkins and a fork, he scanned the cafeteria inconspicuously for her. He hoped if she’d been looking his way, she wouldn’t notice how his eyes surveyed the tables, taking in each diner at rapid speed.

Thank God.
His vision was momentarily obscured by an elderly man walking in front of him, but the quick glance he’d gotten of Lauren had been enough to confirm it was her—the way her soft brown hair fell against her back, the way she sat confidently with her posture straight and her shoulders back.

Lauren had chosen a seat near the center of the cafeteria, her back conveniently to Scott. He was thankful because it gave him ample time to appraise her. She’d probably decided to sit away from the windows to cut down on the glare as she studied her laptop intently, jotting down notes as she scrolled.
Jesus, even
that’s
hot. What’s the matter with me?

After a few moments, Scott made his way toward
Lauren’s table, but paused behind her to see what she was doing on her computer.
Probably tweeting some meaningless quote or something
, he thought. But to his surprise, the screen held a course list from George Mason University.
Advanced
Psychology of Intimate Relationships. Interes—

“Are you gonna stand there all day looking over my shoulder like some middle school stalker, or you gonna have a seat?”

Lauren hadn’t even turned around to look at him, and the assertiveness with which she spoke only further impressed Scott. The girl was good. No doubt about that. Momentarily caught off-guard, he slid into the seat next to her and spoke, embarrassed at how uneasy his voice sounded. “How did you . . .”

“Reflection in the screen,” she said, never taking her eyes off the computer.

Despite her slight smile that served to ease his nerves, he couldn’t help but feel like Lauren had one-upped him once again. And he was eager to get back on top. Trying to ignore all the images the phrase “on top” conjured, he set about attempting to make her as uncomfortable as
he
had just felt by saying, “Do you always let your mommy pack your lunch for you?”

She took her hand off the mouse and lifted her eyelids so that her dark blue stare fixed on Scott’s. “Yes,” she replied simply. “Do you always eat like a woman?”

Scott was careful not to let her comment affect him as his eyes bore into her. “I eat lots of things.”
Let her interpret that however she likes.

He knew his comment had the desired effect when Lauren shifted uncomfortably in her chair and returned her gaze to the computer without so much as a word.
Scott enjoyed the silence—a rare sign that he’d gotten to her—and then he finally spoke again, hoping to rattle her further. “You know, I can help you with that,” he said, lowering his voice and leaning toward her.

Scott noticed Lauren shiver as he spoke. “Help with what?”

“The Psychology of Intimate Relationships.” Scott was still positioned well within Lauren’s personal space.

“I doubt that,” Lauren answered quickly. “You can’t even find friends to sit with in a cafeteria.” There was humor in her voice, but Scott couldn’t deny that there was definite truth to her statement. After all, he’d come downstairs twice now, and he’d sat with her both times.

Scott leaned back in his chair, relaxed as he took another bite of his salad. “I’m sitting with a friend now, aren’t I? Besides, isn’t that class about sex? I’m sure I could help—”

“Just so we’re clear, sex is just one of the topics covered in the class. It’s more about the dynamics of how people relate to one another when they’re in a relationship.”

Scott took a bite of his salad before responding. “Oh well, that’s way less interesting than I thought. Sex, I do. Relationships, I don’t. So maybe you’re right about me not being any help to you.”

“No relationships, huh? Good to know,” she added with a sly grin.

Scott shook his head. “They’re too . . . messy. And since you brought it up, I’ll admit it. I don’t really have any friends here. But that’s
my
choice, not
theirs.
I don’t make a habit of hanging out with people from work, especially
people who are so much older than I am.” He motioned to a table full of gray-haired men in white coats a few tables over. “It was either them or you. And if you ask me, it’s much more enjoyable to look at you than it is to stare at Harry Giles as he scrapes the salt off his crackers one by one.”

Despite Lauren’s eye roll, a smile played on her lips. “You basically just told me I look better than a sixty-year-old. I would think someone with your intelligence and charm could do a little better than that.”

Scott rubbed a hand across his face and sat back in his chair, clearly satisfied with the direction the conversation had taken. “Did you just call me charming and intelligent?” He raised his eyebrows to let Lauren know he was pleased with her compliment—even if she hadn’t meant for it to be one.

“It’s not much of a secret, is it? You’re clearly confident around women. Unless, of course, I’m some sort of anomaly. And obviously you’re intelligent. In order to run your own practice at twenty-nine, you would’ve needed to graduate high school at what? Thirteen? Were you even old enough to—”

“Sixteen.”

“What?”

“I was sixteen when I graduated high school. Twenty-three after med school. Twenty-six when I completed my residency. And twenty-eight when I took over my father’s practice.” Lauren hadn’t said a word as Scott rattled off his accomplishments, and he began to sense that he may have come off a bit arrogant, even for him. “What?” he shrugged lightheartedly. “Boy genius, remember? You said so yourself. You weren’t that far off with the Doogie
Howser reference. I just don’t keep a diary on some archaic computer program.”

“So
you
say,” Lauren teased.

Scott’s face grew serious. “What
I
say is all that matters.”

*   *   *

Scott had spent much of that evening replaying his conversation with Lauren in his head. He’d seemed more open than he meant to come across. All his talk of sex, relationships, and then an explanation about why he had no friends at the hospital. In only a few short minutes, this girl . . . this
woman
had gotten more information out of him than his therapist had in the first three months he’d seen her.

Something about Lauren made him feel comfortable and uneasy at the same time. There were some things that were better left unsaid. But around Lauren, he felt like he might say anything. And that was a new feeling for him. She made him lower his guard in ways he wasn’t sure he ever had. Definitely in ways he never
wanted
to.

Friday morning played out like most others. Scott saw some of his regulars first thing in the morning at his satellite office and made a few phone calls about test results. In the afternoon he’d planned to check in on some of his patients who had been hospitalized. He’d felt busy all morning, but by noon, he didn’t feel like he’d gotten much done. He’d almost decided to skip lunch and run a few errands, but a better idea occurred to him. He needed to discuss next week with Lauren. She’d be starting Monday, and they still hadn’t talked about her job description. But he couldn’t bear a third day in a row of cafeteria food.

At twelve forty-five he headed outside to pick up lunch from his favorite food truck, and by one o’clock he was sitting at a cafeteria table eating and checking his stocks on his phone. He’d fully expected Lauren to come downstairs for lunch again, but by one-thirty she still hadn’t arrived. Or at least he hadn’t
seen
her arrive.
Maybe she stayed upstairs
, he thought.
Or went
out
for lunch.
It wasn’t like they had plans to meet.

He was startled out of his internal monologue at the sound of her voice. “Are you pretending to look busy so no one sits with you?” she asked with a smile as she gestured toward his phone and tossed the brown paper bag on the table.

“If I am, it clearly didn’t work,” he replied without looking up. “Is that what you were doing yesterday?” Scott hoped Lauren didn’t pick up on the fact that his disinterest was intentional.

Lauren sat back in her chair, clearly exhausted from an exceptionally tiring day in Pediatrics, and began pulling items out of her lunch. “If I was, it clearly didn’t work,” she quipped.

Scott didn’t know how to respond, but thankfully Lauren continued speaking so he didn’t have to.

“Can I interrupt your intense game of Flappy Bird for a little adult conversation?”

Finally, Scott raised his gaze to meet hers and hit the button on his phone for standby. “Flappy Bird, huh? I’m guessing that’s some kids’ game you’ve been playing with your new friends on the seventh floor.” Scott knew exactly what Flappy Bird was. In fact, he had it on his phone, though he’d never admit that to Lauren.

“Don’t try to pretend that you’re too old for Flappy Bird,” Lauren said, taking a bite of her salad.

“I was starting to think you weren’t coming down for lunch,” Scott said, suddenly needing to change the direction of the conversation to a subject he was more comfortable with.

“Why wouldn’t I? Isn’t this, like, our
thing
?”

Scott eyed her intensely. “I didn’t know we had a
thing
.”

“Well, now you know.” She pulled one side of her hair back behind her shoulder, and Scott found himself imagining what it would feel like gripped between his fingers.