Chapter 15: The Most Ridiculous Idea Yet
1609 Words
Chapter 15: The Most Ridiculous Idea Yet
The following morning, Dr. Fiona Kennigton-Harper woke with a start.
Sunlight streamed through the blinds of the on-call room, far brighter than it should have been.
She frowned.
Something was wrong.
She turned toward the bedside clock.
9:07 a.m.
Her eyes widened.
"Oh no."
She sat up so quickly that the blanket tangled around her legs. She nearly stumbled out of the bed before grabbing her phone.
Three missed calls.
Two messages from the hospital.
One from Sonya.
Busy right now, gonna call you later. she texted Sonya.
Not expecting any reply.
The three dots floating while she waited.
If The Lieutenant is involved, take all the time you need Hun.
Typical Sonya, Fiona laughed, or blushed.
simply, replying with a laughing emoji
Nothing from Grey.
That somehow made her feel worse.
She hurried into the bathroom, splashed water onto her face, brushed her teeth, and ran a hand through her hair. She had planned to meet Grey for breakfast. They had agreed on it before leaving the cafeteria the previous evening.
Breakfast had long passed.
She quickly threw on fresh scrubs and left the room.
A few nurses greeted her on the way.
She smiled absentmindedly and made her way toward Grey's room.
She knocked.
"Come in."
She opened the door.
And promptly forgot why she had come.
Grey stood near the window.
He wasn't wearing the standard hospital clothing.
Instead, he wore dark jeans and a charcoal sweater that fit his broad shoulders almost unfairly well. The sleeves were rolled slightly, exposing strong forearms. His dark hair was still a little damp as though he had just showered.
He looked…
Ridiculously good.
No.
Hot.
Very hot.
She simply stood there.
Staring.
Apparently for far too long.
One side of his mouth lifted.
"Doctor?"
Nothing.
"Dr. Harper?"
She blinked.
"What?"
He looked amused.
"You've been standing there for nearly thirty seconds."
Heat rushed into her cheeks.
"Oh."
A pause.
"Sorry."
His smile widened.
"Is something wrong?"
"No."
She cleared her throat.
"Everything is perfectly fine."
Another pause.
"You look different."
She mentally winced.
That sounded stupid.
His expression softened.
"I'll take that as a compliment."
She looked away.
"It was."
Silence settled between them.
Then he asked gently, "Overslept?"
She sighed.
"Terribly."
He chuckled.
The sound was low and surprisingly pleasant.
"I assumed something happened."
"You should have called."
"I didn't want to disturb your sleep."
She stared at him.
"Most people would have."
"Most people aren't your patients."
She opened her mouth and then closed it.
For some reason, that answer made her smile.
"You've already had breakfast?"
He nodded.
"An hour ago."
She sighed dramatically.
"I was looking forward to pancakes."
"You can still have lunch."
She laughed softly.
"I suppose I can."
His eyes remained on her.
"You look tired."
"I am tired."
"You should probably change."
She looked down at her scrubs.
Right.
Today wasn't exactly a workday.
It was a mission.
"I'm going to get dressed," she said.
"I'll wait."
She nodded and quickly left.
Nearly twenty minutes later, she returned wearing blue jeans, a cream blouse, and a light cardigan.
Grey blinked.
Now it was his turn to stare.
"You look different too."
She smiled.
"I'll take that as a compliment."
"It was."
She laughed.
Somehow, they both seemed lighter than usual.
Almost normal.
No doctor.
No patient.
Just two people heading somewhere together.
The thought was strangely comforting.
---
The drive to Ottawa was surprisingly easy.
They talked about everything and nothing.
Music.
Traffic.
Coffee.
Terrible hospital food.
At one point, Grey made a joke about the hospital's mashed potatoes looking like wallpaper paste.
Fiona laughed so hard she had tears in her eyes.
For a few minutes, everything felt ordinary.
Then reality returned.
She cleared her throat.
"Let's go over the plan again."
Grey nodded.
"You're Fiona Kennigton-Harper. Single mother."
"Correct."
"You recently won full custody of your son."
"Correct."
"Your ex-husband was abusive."
She nodded once.
"You feared he would try to access your son's trust fund, so you transferred the money to another account."
"Exactly."
He looked at her.
"You realize this is an absurd story."
She laughed.
"I know."
"But it works."
"It has to."
He nodded.
"If you're questioned, stick to the story."
"I will."
Thankfully, everything went smoothly.
Much more smoothly than either of them had expected.
By the time they left, Fiona was carrying paperwork and looking mildly dazed.
Grey looked at her.
"Well?"
She blinked.
"I have fifty-six million pounds."
She still looked stunned.
He smiled slightly.
"In Canadian dollars?"
She stared at the figures.
She swallowed.
"Approximately one hundred and three million Canadian dollars."
Silence.
Then they both looked at each other.
Then they laughed.
Because the number sounded ridiculous.
Absolutely ridiculous.
She shook her head.
"This is insane."
"Agreed."
She laughed again.
It felt unreal.
They headed toward a mobile store afterward.
Grey needed a phone.
And a Canadian number.
The process took longer than expected.
By the time everything was completed, it was already past lunchtime.
Both of them were hungry.
So they found a restaurant nearby.
They ordered food.
For a while, they simply ate.
Then Grey noticed something outside.
A sign.
VACANCY.
He looked at it thoughtfully.
He stood.
"I'll be right back."
Fiona watched him walk outside.
A few moments later, he returned holding a small poster.
She read it.
A rental.
"Oh."
He nodded.
She immediately called the number.
The apartment had already been occupied.
They tried another.
Too expensive.
Another.
No vacancies.
Another.
Too far from the hospital.
Another.
The landlord wanted six months' payment in advance.
By the fifth call, both of them looked exhausted.
"This is ridiculous," she said.
"It appears everyone in Ontario needs housing."
She laughed.
Then she became quiet.
Because the ridiculous idea returned.
Again.
She took a sip of water.
Ignored it.
It came back.
She sighed.
Ignored it again.
It refused to disappear.
Finally she looked at him.
"You know…"
He raised an eyebrow.
"What?"
She cleared her throat.
"I technically have a spare room."
Silence.
She immediately regretted speaking.
She kept talking.
Pure panic.
"I mean, it's just a room. Empty. Completely unused. And I could technically rent it out. Hypothetically."
Grey stared.
She continued.
"And you'd know at least one person there and wouldn't be staying around random strangers and—"
She stopped.
He was still staring.
She looked away.
"Oh God."
He looked amused.
"Are you offering me a room?"
She immediately shook her head.
"No."
A pause.
"Maybe."
He laughed.
She looked horrified.
"I can't believe I said that."
Neither could he.
"You realize I'd be going from your patient to your tenant."
She nodded.
"And you'd become my doctor, landlord, and caretaker."
She covered her face.
"When you say it like that, it sounds insane."
"It sounds extremely insane."
She laughed.
He laughed too.
Then he became serious.
"Wouldn't that be imposing?"
"No."
"Uncomfortable?"
"No."
"You have a son."
"I do."
"And your life."
She shrugged.
"I could use the money."
He looked unconvinced.
"And honestly, I'd rather know where you are than have you staying somewhere with people we don't know."
He looked at her quietly.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Finally he said softly, "That may be the kindest thing anyone has offered me in a very long time."
She suddenly felt warm.
She looked away.
"It's just a room."
He smiled.
"Still."
Silence settled again.
Finally he said, "Let's make it my last resort."
She nodded quickly.
"Yes."
That sounded reasonable.
Very reasonable.
"There was another place not far from here," he said.
She nodded.
"We can check it."
They finished lunch and drove there.
The building looked terrible.
The surrounding area looked worse.
Fiona frowned immediately.
"This looks like somewhere criminals hide."
Grey looked around.
"That could be useful."
She looked at him.
"You're hiding too."
"Exactly."
She shook her head.
"But criminals can sell you out for a bottle of beer."
He laughed.
Then the landlord emerged.
Within three seconds, Fiona disliked him.
The man looked at her strangely.
Very strangely.
Then at Grey.
Then at her again.
She frowned.
Grey leaned closer.
"He looks like he'd sell someone out for a pack of cigarettes."
She burst into laughter.
By the time they returned to the car, she was still giggling.
He looked at her.
"Is your offer still available?"
She blinked.
"My… offer?"
"The room."
"Oh."
She nodded.
"Yes."
He looked thoughtful.
"When can I see it?"
She considered it.
"We could go today."
Then she sighed.
"But my house is in Brockville."
He nodded.
"The hospital is in Kingston."
"Exactly."
"And we're currently in Ottawa."
"Exactly."
A pause.
"Canada is very large."
She laughed.
"Very."
He looked tired.
She noticed immediately.
The shadows beneath his eyes had deepened.
His shoulders seemed heavier.
He hadn't complained once.
Not once.
"It would be best to return to the hospital first," she said gently. "You can see the house another day."
He looked at her.
Then nodded.
"All right."
The drive back was quieter.
Not uncomfortable.
Just quiet.
Both seemed tired.
By the time they reached the hospital, the afternoon sun was beginning to lower.
They parked.
Neither moved immediately.
Then Fiona smiled.
"Get some rest."
"You too, Doctor."
She opened her door.
Then paused.
"Grey?"
He looked at her.
"The offer stands."
Something in his expression softened.
He nodded once.
"Thank you."
She smiled.
Then she stepped out of the car and headed toward the hospital.
Neither of them noticed that somewhere between Ottawa and Kingston, between pancakes and rental signs and ridiculous ideas, things had quietly begun to change.
- Writer
