"It was," Harry says. "Led us right to two murderers. They confessed and everything."
"Then you should thank whoever sent it, sans lecture this time."
"Jo…" and he's off. I pull the phone away from my ear. Who the hell is that guy? He's so busy studying the painting of wavy lines, he doesn't notice the men carrying the ladder. He backs up, lifting up his horn-rimmed glasses in case that helps with the exam, and smacks into the ladder. With Harry droning on I don't hear the workman's words, but the doctor appears embarrassed, cheeks turning red. They turn almost purple when he glances up and notices me staring. His thin mouth drops open and eyes pop behind the glasses. It's damn cute. It's far less cute when more workmen pass with boxes and the still befuddled doctor steps to the side to let them pass. His elbow brushes the painting. It falls off its hook onto the ground.
"Harry, I have to go. You can yell at me later. Say hey to the guys and Bella for me. Bye." I end the call and rush over to the doctor, who turns the painting over, trying to figure out which way is up. "Excuse me. I--"
"I am so sorry," the doctor says, mortified and still spinning the damn painting. "If it is damaged in any way, I will of course pay. I-I know I'm not supposed to be here. I didn't think you'd be here. Not-Not that that excuses me sneaking in, in-in fact it's worse. I--"
"It's okay," I chuckle. I'm used to making people nervous but this is ridiculous.
He hangs his head so he doesn't have to look at me. "I-I'm sorry. I'm not normally so clumsy." I find that hard to believe. Judging from his bushy dark brown hair in dire need of a cut, glasses falling to the end of his straight nose, pasty complexion, wrinkled blue dress shirt and chinos, and scuffed brown penny loafers with actual pennies in them, it wouldn't surprise me if he didn't actually knock down whole buildings on a daily basis. Even when he tries to re-hang the painting, it takes two tries. "I-I'll just go."
He steps away, but I move to block him. "I'm sorry if this is going to sound rude, but…how do I know you? I can't place it. We have met before, right?"
Head hung, he says, "Yes. Um, I-I believe it was about a-a-a year ago. I-I'm Dr. Jonathan Ambrose. I just started here." He holds out his long hand for me to shake, which I do.
I've recently heard the name. If memory serves, I had to approve his hiring and drug study two months ago as a member of the board, but even then the name sounded familiar. Okay, leading neurologist from Independence. Also into infectious diseases and created some retro-virus that saved a million people or something over a decade ago when he was twenty. Youngest person to be nominated for the Nobel Prize in medicine. Since then he developed multiple drugs for Alzheimers, and Parkinsons, then gave away the patents. He's either crazy or rich in his own right. Of course those aren't mutually exclusive. Danforth almost wet his pants when he read that the profits from his multiple sclerosis drug trial would go to the hospital. Potentially billions of dollars if the treatment works. He came here for the trial but also to begin working with our doctors researching gene therapy. But it's not from the hospital that I recognize him from.
He glances up at me over his glasses, and I meet his eyes for an instant. They're dark blue like sapphires. Only one person I've ever met with eyes like that. "Jem!" I say with a smile. "You're Rebecca's friend. We met at the engagement party the night before she…yeah! You asked me to dance a couple times. You were at the memorial service too."
"That-That's right," he says, running his hand nervously through his curly hair.
"Sorry it took me so long to remember. That was a crazy time, the file got lost."
"Understandable."
That night comes back to me, well most of it. Rebecca tried to set us up, saying we were "absolutely perfect" for each other, but at the time I was secretly seeing Harry. When he stood me up, I proceeded to get blotto and spent the night flirting and dancing with the cute but shy doctor in front of me. And he is cute. Not classically handsome by any means, more striking. Medium height, a little on the skinny side with a long face, high cheekbones to die for, and a dimple on his left cheek when he smiles if I recall correctly. I may have touched it that night. Even his ears are adorable, sticking out a little too far. Several times that night I almost kissed him but managed to reign myself in. I wasn't a cheater. Then. I saw him at Rebecca and Justin's funerals, but we didn't speak. "And I'm sorry for my behavior that night, just ditching you like that when you left to get me water. A lot of the night is still fuzzy, so I apologize for anything else inappropriate I did."