Tommy

If I hear one more of these girls brag about how many Instagram followers they have, I'm going to jump out of the nearest window.

As if a number on some stupid app means anything in the realm of savings lives. And that's all I'm about. The attention that I gained by dating Katherine did only one thing, bring awareness to organizations that I'm passionate about. I don't give a damn about any status that I may have in society. It doesn't make me any better at my job. If anything, it makes it more difficult. I hop around from hospital to hospital so that I can remain somewhat anonymous. My presence would bring unwanted attention to the department.

Women would literally fake injuries to try and get seen by me, and sometimes they were truly devoted enough to commit to a real injury. It was ridiculous.

"Will you be participating in another tournament of flag football, Doctor Oliver?" One of the blonde girls asked me. What was her name again? Katie?

"Maybe," I mumble. "And please, we can cut the formality. We're all adults here, aren't we? Call me Tommy." I hear the synchronized giggle coming from all four of the women.

Jesus.

I take a sip of my drink in the hope to get myself drunk enough to tolerate these women and I scan the bar. I find Kimberly talking away with some man that I can smell clear across the room.

Really, Freckles? This guy? I thought you had better taste.

The girls are talking and I simply keep nodding to seem like I'm engaged in the conversation, but really? I couldn't care less. I don't even know what the hell they're talking about. These girls seem entirely too shallow to be in the field of saving lives.

"Wow," Pia says, as she rubs her hand up my shoulder. My muscles involuntarily flex under her touch and I turn just in time to catch her biting her lip. "This fabric feels very expensive."

My brown eyes meet her blue ones and I nearly throw in the towel. Normally I would be all over her. She's exactly my brand of toy, but all I can think about is the brunette across the bar that wants nothing to do with me.

"It is," I smirk. "It's wool."

"Wool?" Lauren sounds impressed, "It must be really warm."

I look across the room to find Kimberly laughing at whatever the man said and I feel my hand morph into a fist.

What the fuck?

"It is," I grunt.

"Then you should take it off," Sabrina smiles. "In fact, I think we should all get out of here."

The other girls giggle in unison and cheer at the idea. Yawn.

"We can all head up to the pool and cool off," Katie adds. "I don't think anyone is going to be there."

I can think of a million other things that I'd rather do. Which is strange of me to think because normally I would be the one proposing the idea.

"I'm sorry ladies, but we can't mix business with pleasure. You all understand, don't you?"

If that wasn't a damn lie then I don't know what is? I was known for this shit. The sponsors knew I didn't behave and I never claimed to be a saint. I was an expert in the art of the female anatomy.

When I saw the man that Kimberly was talking to get up, I made my move.

"How about I make it up to you lovely ladies?" I say, "A round of drinks on me."

The girls smile as I head over to the bar and go up to the bartender.

"What can I get for you, man?" He asks as he wipes his hands on a towel.

"Four martini's and I'll take a whiskey on the rocks."

"Coming right up," He nods and begins to walk away.

"Also," I say and the bartender pauses, "Do you know what the woman over there in the corner ordered?"

He turns towards Kimberly and then back at me, "a cosmo."

I smirk. Why does that seem fitting? She's a little Carrie Bradshaw. "Get her another one for me."

I pull out my pen and paper from inside my suit and quickly jot down a little message for her.

'You owe me three."

I snicker as I hand the note to the guy and ask him to hand it to Kimberly with her drink.

After grabbing the drinks that I ordered for the girls, I retrieve back to my small group. I hand them out and take a sip of my drink.

Now to wait.

The girls continue to giggle amongst themselves, saying god knows what to impress me. I don't even know why. They're all successful and intelligent, but their laughs lower their IQ by twenty points.

I watch as the bartender hands Kimberly the drink and then the note. When she opens it and reads it, she looks over towards me. If looks could kill, she would have murdered me thirty times over.

But I'm into it.

She crumbles the note with her hand and places it on the counter. This is my opening.

"Excuse me, ladies," I say stepping out of the circle of women, "Enjoy your drinks but I see a friend."

I ignore their hanging mouths as I veer left and right out of their way. Old me was telling me to reconsider a sure thing. These women would happily walk back to my room. All I had to do was say the word. But I didn't want those women, I don't want any other woman. I only want Freckles.

"Ms. Punctuality," I grin as I walk towards her.

She leans back in her chair, a scowl on that beautiful face of hers.

"Doctor Oliver," she replies, clearly unamused.

Women don't make me nervous, but this woman does.

"You can call me Tommy," I tell her.

"And you can call me by my name," Her brow lifts. "Not freckles and not Ms. Punctuality."

She has a bite. I like her.

"Where'd Old Spice go?" I say and I take the empty seat that was previously occupied.

"Who?"

I beckon towards the hall where the man had left, "The walking ad for Axe body spray."

"You mean Stuart?"

Like that's any better.

"Whatever," I shrug. My eyes trail up her perfectly toned body. I have no idea where three kids popped out of because she is positively marvelous.

Her legs are firm and tan. Her little pencil skirt is hugging the curves of her hips and her blouse dips just low enough for me to see the potential that's hidden under there.

When I first saw her this morning, I thanked the gods. Someone had answered my prayer because there she was, just as surprised as I was to see her again.

I knew I wasn't going to let her go again. This shit didn't happen. It was destined.

"Do you have a kink for nicknames, Doctor Oliver?" She asks, her eyes narrowed.

"I have many kinks," I wink as I down my drink with a hiss. "Do you want to find out what they are?"

She's looking at me with an expression I can't quite read. Was she into it? "Like I told you yesterday, I'm not interested. That hasn't changed in the course of twenty-four hours."

"But the night is still young," I whisper. "Plenty of time for you to change your mind."

She shook her head, "I think you have better luck with your group of friends over there."

I turned back towards the four blondes that had their hands all over me earlier. They were whispering to each other and waving towards me.

"I'm not interested in any of them."

"That's too bad. You might have gotten lucky tonight."

"I'm still holding out hope," I grin. "So, fancy running into you again."

"I told you that you were a stalker."

My eyes widened, "You walk into my lecture and I'm the stalker?"

"I didn't know it was you… besides, if I would have known I was going to be ordered around by you then I wouldn't have walked in."

Ahh, she didn't like to be told to sit. I rubbed at my grin with my hand, "Then you shouldn't have been late."

"I overslept," she gritted her teeth at me.

"Dreaming about me?"

Our eyes locked for a second. Wait, really?

"You wish," she swallowed.

"You're something special, freckles." I snicker, "Seriously."

I watch as her face softens. She likes compliments.

"Why do you call me that?"

I remained silent as I took a moment to study her face. She was wearing barely any visible makeup, leaving her natural skin to really shine through. There were a few fine lines around her eyes (probably less than I did) but she had somehow managed to maintain a youthful appearance. She was gorgeous… but those freckles on her nose. That's the first thing that I noticed on her. It was beautiful and I loved that she didn't care to cover them up.

I held her gaze for a moment, "Because they're beautiful."

I began to see the tell-tale signs of a blush. A simple rush of pink to her perfectly shaped cheeks.

"—Sorry for the wait. There was a long line."

The first thing that hit me was the smell of douchebag in a can. Immediately, my eyes watered. How can anyone stand to be breathing distance from this guy?

"Wow," I said, standing up and rubbing my irritated eyes.

I have to get Kimberly the fuck away from this guy. If anything, it's because he's a health hazard. She'd be safe if she came with me and steered clear away from pheromones over there.

"Doctor Oliver," Stuart put out his hand. "It's an honor to formally meet you. Your lecture today was brilliant. Your TEDtalk about mental health affecting healthcare professionals played during my orientation at the rehabilitation hospital that I work at and I instantly became a huge fan."

I shook this poor man's hand and hoped the smell wouldn't transfer, "Thank you. Stuart, right?"

"Yes," he nodded and he looked between Kimberly and me. "You two know each other?"

"We go way back," I smirk at my lie.

What did I even know about this girl? I know that her name is Kimberly Hart, she has three kids, she hates flying, she's in the medical field, and she lied to me about not drinking— although that was something I figured out right away. Maybe she just didn't like the wine.

"We were just discussing a private matter," I say.

I think Stuart understood what I was trying to say. He's a guy. He should know when he's lost.

"I'll leave you two to catch up then," Stuart says.

That's right… walk away while you still can. She's not going back to your room, not when I'm clearly the best option.

I straightened out my suit, and once the smell disappeared, I sat back down.

Kimberly put her knees together and faced them away from me.

"I'm pretty thirsty," I sigh, "I wish someone would buy me a drink."

Take the bait.

Kimberly snorted. "Why don't you go ask any of your four friends? I'm sure they'd jump at the opportunity."

I look back to where they were and they were still there… staring at me.

"Why don't you buy me one?"

"Because that would mean that I'm interested in you, which I'm not."

"Not even a little bit?"

"You humiliated me," her voice lowers, "I was a little late and you drew the attention of everyone in the room."

"First rule, don't be late. Your patients depend on you to be on time. How would that fly at work? This is a paid event, Hart. You're on the clock."

"Then be professional about it, don't single me out in front of everyone," she hissed.

"Give me a break," I rolled my eyes, "I offered you a seat then I told you to sit in it. I thought I was being a gentleman."

"You're everything that a gentleman isn't… and to top it off, you're rude as hell."

"I'm rude?" I looked at her, incredulously. "Are you off your rocker? First, you take the seat that's supposed to be reserved for me on the airplane. Then, being the nice guy that I am, buy you two drinks to help you calm down your nerves. I offer you a seat in the front row of my lecture and then proceed to buy you a third drink. And that's not including saving you from the guy that wants to replace Isaiah Mustafa over there," I nod towards Stuart.

She shook her head before a growl escaped her. "I didn't take any seat from you, I was assigned to it. I also didn't tell you to buy me any drinks, that was all you. And lastly, I was enjoying Stuart's company, so screw you. I'm sure Columbia University is very proud about how highly you think of yourself, you unbelievable jerk."

Wow, I almost believed the rage coming out of her mouth. It was her passion that was starting to slowly make me crazy about her. She could lie to herself all she wants, but I know the truth. She likes it.

"You looked me up?" I grin.

Her mouth opens and closes a few times. Did she think that I wouldn't catch that?

"What?"

"You looked me up. I mean, how else would you know that I went to Columbia?"

Her lips opened slightly, "I might have googled you."

"Find anything interesting?"

"No," she shrugged but I knew she was lying.

I'm taking her on a date. It might take me a little bit longer to get her to open up to me, but I haven't had a challenge in a while. I was getting bored of having everything handed to me. She's fun. She's different.

"Tell me more about yourself, freckles," I look at her lower lip and then back at her, "I want to know."

She shakes her head and downs her drink, "I don't think so."

When she gets up, I begin to panic. She can't leave. Not yet.

"Where are you going?"

"Back to my room."

"But we're talking."

"No, you are talking. I'm bored."

Bored? Bored! Have I even been described as boring before? She just wants to get under my skin, doesn't she? What she doesn't know is that it just makes me want her even more.

I see her begin to walk away and I chase after her, "Get dinner with me."

She spins around, "What?"

"Get dinner with me," I say again. "And if you still want nothing to do with me then I'll leave you alone."

She searches my eyes for something that I hope she finds. My sincerity.

"Why do you care?" She throws her arms up. "And don't give me that bullshit that it's because I'm different. You don't know me at all."

"Then give me a chance," I say, feeling desperate, "You're right. I don't know you but I want to. If you don't want anything to do with me afterward then at least you can walk away with a free meal, yeah? What do you say?"

"I'm not going to be the girl that has dinner with the lecturer. I won't do it."

I'm almost at my end. I just need to chip away a little bit more.

"Then let's leave. Let's go somewhere that no one will recognize us."

She looks out the window, watching people walking down the city sidewalks.

"Fine," She sighs, "If it'll shut you up."

She doesn't wait for me to walk out the door and I'm left grinning like an idiot.

Let the fun begin.

Author note: Shout out to my high school economics professor that gave me my lovely nickname. Show up late to school on your first day and you're dubbed Ms. Punctuality for the remainder of your senior year. I still haven't forgotten about you, lol. Hope you guys are enjoying!