“He’s in meetings this morning,” I say.
Frank hums. “Shame. I was enjoying the show.”
I snort before I can stop myself. “There is no show.”
Frank’s eyes flick up to mine. He doesn’t say anything. He simply smiles like a man storing ammunition.
A knock sounds at the door.
“Come in,” Frank calls.
The man who steps inside is unfamiliar but immediately commanding in a different way than Colton. Where Colton is all restraint and intensity, this man is relaxed, confident, effortlessly at ease.
“Dr. Owens,” he says, offering a warm smile. “Cardiology.”
“Oh good,” Frank says. “Another one. Collect the whole set, why don’t I?”
Dr. Owens chuckles. “I’m just here to take a look at your heart. See if it’s behaving.”
“Unlikely,” Frank mutters.
Dr. Owens turns his attention to the chart, then to me. “Melissa, right?”
“Yes.”
“Good catch on his sodium levels,” he says.
The compliment is casual, professional, but my shoulders warm anyway.
“Someone has to keep him in line,” I say lightly.
Frank scoffs. “She’s underselling it. She’s the reason I haven’t died of hospital food poisoning.”
Dr. Owens smiles. “High praise.”
Before I can respond, the air shifts.
I don’t hear Colton enter, but I feel him. Like the room suddenly has a spine. He stops inside the doorway.
“Owens,” Colton says.
“Fisher,” Dr. Owens replies easily. “Wasn’t sure if you’d be joining us.”
Colton steps fully into the room. “I had a few minutes.”
Which is a lie. We both know it.
He positions himself at the foot of the bed, arms loosely crossed, posture deceptively relaxed. His gaze flicks to me briefly, but it’s unreadable. He then looksback to Dr. Owens.
“So,” Frank says brightly, “you here to tell me my heart’s still ticking?”
“For now,” Dr. Owens replies, opening the chart. “Your numbers are holding steady. Not improving but not declining either.”
“That sounds like doctor speak fordon’t get your hopes up,” Frank mutters.
“It’s doctor speak foryou’re stubborn,” Dr. Owens counters.
Frank grins. “Takes one to know one.”