The Stalker Between US

Chapter 10

Ethan POV

The day had started as most of mine do—a blur of meetings, urgent calls, and the endless shuffle of paperwork demanding my signature. I rarely get the luxury of time to myself, much less the chance to walk the hospital floors and see the people who keep it running. But today, something compelled me to step out of my office and into the bustle of the lobby. I always tell my staff I like to stay connected, but sometimes I need to remind myself what that means.

That’s when I first noticed her. Julia Reyes. She was standing at the reception desk, shoulders squared in the way of someone who’s learned to project confidence, even when nerves try to get the best of her. There was something about her—maybe the way she seemed so present in the moment, maybe the quiet determination in her eyes. I knew she was here for the pediatric nurse interview; her name was on my schedule, but seeing her in person changed something. She wasn’t just another résumé. I found myself lingering a moment longer than I should, curiosity sparked.

The day pressed on, and I almost didn’t make it to her interview. My assistant kept reminding me of the backlog on my desk, but I felt drawn to get a better sense of Julia. So I made my way to Conference Room B, stepping in just as she was fielding a question from Ms. Hernandez. There was a pause as I entered—those always make people nervous—but Julia handled it with poise. I apologized for the interruption and explained my reason for being there, making sure not to overshadow her moment. I wanted to observe her as much as I wanted to participate.

As the interview progressed, I listened carefully to her answers. She spoke about her eight years in the maternal child unit with a kind of quiet authority that only comes from real, hard-earned experience. She understood the stakes, the stakes of stabilizing a newborn in distress, the emotional labor of supporting frightened families, the necessity of teamwork. I was impressed by her humility and her clear-eyed description of the work. When I asked what inspired her to choose pediatrics, her answer was honest and heartfelt. She didn’t try to impress; she just told the truth.

After the interview, I waited until Julia and Ms. Hernandez left before scanning her application again in my office. There it was—her phone number, written in neat block letters. I hesitated for a moment, questioning if it was appropriate, but the urge to know her beyond her résumé was too strong. I told myself it was simply good leadership to stay connected to new hires. Still, I made a note of her number, unsure if I’d ever use it.

That evening, after a long day, I craved something simple—a slice of pie and a strong cup of coffee. Rosie’s Diner has always been my go-to spot for late-night comfort, tucked away from the high-end restaurants where I’m expected to entertain donors and board members. I walked in, relishing the anonymity of the fluorescent lights and Formica tables. The bell over the door chimed as I entered, signaling my arrival.

To my complete surprise, there was Julia, weaving between tables with a coffee pot in one hand and a tray in the other. Her uniform was different, but the same grace and determination were there. I watched as she handled a difficult customer with patience and as she shared a laugh with an elderly woman at the counter. The realization hit me—she was working a double shift. It made me want to know more.

Our eyes met, and I could tell she recognized me. I slid onto a stool at the counter, ordered a coffee, and kept the conversation light. I told her I liked to know the places my employees spent their time, and it wasn’t entirely a lie. I just didn’t tell her how much seeing her here made me want to understand her world outside of hospital walls. The more we talked, the more intrigued I became. Julia was genuine—a rare quality.

As the crowd thinned, I lingered, not wanting the conversation to end. I watched her juggle her responsibilities with the same efficiency she’d described in her interview. It was clear she was used to hard work, to balancing demands, to putting others first. I realized how much I wanted to see her in a different context—not as a CEO interviewing a candidate, but as a man genuinely interested in a remarkable woman.

When her shift neared its end, I finally worked up the nerve. I asked her, gently, if she’d have dinner with me sometime—no pretense, just two people in the city who happened to find each other again. Her surprised smile was all the answer I needed. I left Rosie’s that night feeling lighter than I had in years, already anticipating the next time I’d see those determined eyes—this time, outside of interviews and uniforms.