Page 97 of Wrong Number Right Doctor

“And?”

I swallow. “And I slept with him,” I say. “And as it turns out, he’s not a random doctor.”

Simone closes her eyes for half a second. Just like a woman asking a higher power for workplace stamina. “When?”

“What when?” I ask.

“When did you sleep with the doctor whatever,” she says.

For some reason, that offends me. “Two days before the procedure,” I say. “And that’s not even the worst part. He’s the doctor Alester just brought in. Family physician, medical oversight, whatever formal rich-man phrase they’re using.”

Simone places a hand over her heart. “Did I just hear you correctly? You fucked the doctor that is currently overseeing your surrogate pregnancy?”

“Yes?” I say sheepishly.

“Damn, mama,” she says. “So you’re totally in the middle of a K-drama now.”

I let out a half laugh, half groan. “Please don’t.”

“No, I’m serious. Secret pregnancy, rich man’s heir contract, mysterious older doctor, wrong-number fate, emotionally constipated male lead. This is a K-drama with better pathology references.”

“I hate that you’re not wrong.”

“I know.” She leans back against the sink. “Wait. How does he know Alester?”

“That’s what I asked.”

“Good. Because I was about to be disappointed in you.”

“He said they’ve known each other for years. Alester recently asked him to formally come on as family physician. Dalton knew there was a surrogate arrangement, but he didn’t know it was me.”

Simone’s face changes. “He told you that?”

“Some of it. Some from the meeting. Alester introduced him like that. Dalton filled in the rest later.”

“And Alester has no idea?”

“No.”

“That you and Dalton know each other?”

“No.”

“That you slept with him?”

“God, no.”

“That there’s a possibility…” She stops.

I look down at my hands. The bathroom goes quiet around us, except for the hum of the light overhead and someone trying the locked door from outside.

“Occupied,” Simone calls.

A pause.

Then footsteps retreat.

“Can we please not talk about that right now?” I whine.