Arrhythmia Read online

  As we sat there giggling, I noticed how remarkably comfortable I felt in his company. I could have sat there in the kitchen with him chewing the fat all night.

  Desiderio’s giggles changed into a gentle smile that made me feel warm all over. It wasn’t at all like his erotic grins, but rather honest and winsome. Why couldn’t he be normal more often? Whenever he wasn’t brazenly coming on to me, I really liked him. Why did he insist on driving me up the wall with that affected macho demeanor?

  Just as I was about to ask him about that, we heard the door to the ER swing open with a buzz.

  I rolled my office chair forward so I could see down the corridor. When I recognized the person headed in my direction, I felt like slamming the kitchen door.

  Nurse Steffi sashayed in with flowing hair extensions and makeup piled on like war paint. She waved a stack of papers at me.

  “Hiii!” she warbled. “I have a few discharge papers that need signatures.”

  Signatures? At this hour? And personally requested by Miss Plastic herself? The departments normally assigned such menial tasks to the interns. Only in extremely urgent cases would a nurse deign to run such a mindless errand.

  “Is Dr. DiCastellooo still here?” Steffi asked, craning her skinny neck.

  So that was the real reason for her late visit. She had come to bewitch Desiderio. My God, that woman was so transparent she should use glass cleaner to wash herself.

  “I’m right here,” said Desiderio as he leaned forward and waved.

  “Hi there, Dr. DiCastello! May I trouble you for a moment?” Steffi purred. She came in without waiting for an invitation.

  Her tone was enough to trigger a strong gag reflex in me, and I rolled my chair back to the desk to escape her cloud of sickly sweet perfume. But at least she had been respectful enough to address Desiderio using his formal title, and that put me in a more forgiving mood.

  “Sure,” Desiderio replied politely. “What’s up?”

  “I urgently need your signature on these papers.”

  Batting her eyelashes, she placed the papers in question in front of him one by one. I wondered how a person with such amounts of mascara on could still manage to move her lashes. It seemed like so much mascara in such fine hairs would make the lids too heavy to lift. Her eye muscles had to be remarkable.

  With no more questions, Desiderio picked up a pen and briefly went through each of the papers before signing them.

  Meanwhile, I grimly swung from side to side on my office chair.

  “Urgent discharge papers? Are you guys throwing patients out at midnight?” I asked venomously.

  Steffi laughed and regarded me with pity. “Nooo. These patients are being discharged tomorrow morning.”

  All I needed was for her to have added “silly!”

  Stupid cow!

  I tried not to bang my head against the desk and changed my voice so I’d sound slow on the uptake. “Oh, I see! And here I thought discharge papers got signed during morning rounds.”

  I scored a hit!

  Steffi looked at me angrily while I gloated.

  Desiderio seemed not to notice our hostility, because he continued leafing through the papers, now and then scribbling his name at the bottom.

  When we had done enough staring, Steffi turned her attention to the real reason she had come. “So, Doc, did you have a hard day?”

  And then, as though her ass kissing weren’t bad enough, she placed her bony little butt on the table in front of Desiderio with feigned casualness.

  On my kitchen table!

  While I sat fuming, Desiderio did not even look up. That obviously rankled Steffi.

  “It was fine,” he said absentmindedly and went on scribbling.

  I rejoiced and grasped the opportunity that had just presented itself to me.

  “But Desiderio, what are you talking about?” I chirped with a heavy emphasis on his first name. “When I started my shift, Sandra told me things had been crazy here!”

  Now Desiderio did look up. And the fact that he looked at me in surprise and not at the butt right under his nose annoyed Nurse Steffi enormously. I could have shouted for joy.

  “It wasn’t that bad,” he said.

  “Now, now. No false modesty,” I rebuked him. “I know exactly how hard you work.” Again, flaunting our familiarity at work.

  I quickly checked out Steffi, and her pinched facial expression almost made me laugh out loud. Desiderio looked at her, signed once more, and gave the stack of papers back.

  “Is everything quiet in the ward?” he inquired.

  The bimbo immediately threw herself into a provocative pose and began playing with a thin strand of hair. “Same as usual, really. It’s not too bad, but I’m still glad I have tomorrow off.”

  This heavy-handed hint made me let out a slight groan. Did she really think Desiderio was going to fall for such a clumsy come-on?

  “Oh, nice. You have the day off,” he repeated. “Do you have something fun planned?”

  Excuse me? Seriously?

  Steffi traced an imaginary line on her pants with her index finger and said with a flutter, “No, I don’t have any plans . . . yet.”

  I could have puked! What was going on? Soft porn?

  When Desiderio answered with “Really? How can that be?” I jumped up and bolted out of the hormone-laden room.

  Yuck, that was just disgusting!

  I stormed into the nearest treatment room and began randomly opening and slamming drawers without even looking at their contents.

  What exactly was enraging me so much?

  After all, I didn’t care what those two were doing. I should be glad that Desiderio had finally directed his ridiculous flirtations at someone else.

  But why Steffi, of all people? How could he possibly fall for such a plastic cow?

  Either he had no taste or just bad taste. Either way, I felt offended at being placed on the same level with that bimbo!

  Enraged, I rummaged through the drawers and cabinets. Because of the ruckus I was making, I didn’t notice Desiderio until he was right next to me. I jumped. He had succeeded in startling me after all.

  “Damn, don’t sneak up on me like that, OK?” I snapped at him.

  “A whole army could assemble right here and you would never know with all this noise you’re making,” he answered casually.

  “Cleaning is noisy. Don’t you know that?”

  “I see.” Desiderio loosely crossed his arms and studied me. “You know something? I’m truly impressed.”

  “And what is it you’re so impressed by, if I might ask?”

  He grinned. “By your jealousy.”

  What?

  I opened my eyes wide. “Are you nuts? I’m not jealous of that . . . I can’t believe it!”

  The right corner of his mouth twitched upward and made me feel a little vertigo. “You don’t have to try to talk your way out of it. I think it’s fantastic.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” I coughed. “Why would I be jealous if I want nothing to do with you?”

  “Well now, that would be the sixty-thousand-dollar question, wouldn’t it?” he said mysteriously.

  As I struggled to breathe, he leaned toward me and said conspiratorially, “Just so you know, I’m not going out with her. However, if you would like to do something with me tomorrow, I am utterly at your disposal.”

  “No, thanks!” I insisted. I could feel myself being reeled in again by those blue eyes.

  Desiderio laughed huskily. “Good night, little warrioress.” With that, he vanished from the room.

  Flustered, I pressed my hand on my stomach to ease the tingling that was raging in there.

  Damn it!

  Now I was suffering not only from cardiac arrhythmias but also gastroenteritis. This was clearly an ent
irely new bacterium for which I had to find an antidote as soon as possible.

  My EKG a few hours later turned out to be completely normal.

  Chapter 13

  Saturday, August twenty-fourth. Vera’s birthday was all about relaxation. I treated myself to an extensive spa treatment complete with bubble bath and facial.

  Oh, it felt so good!

  I hadn’t spoiled myself like that for a long time. Normally, I speed-shaved my legs in the shower and spruced up my nails only if one of them broke.

  Today, though, I decided to indulge in painting those nails. Since I lacked experience, this took quite some time and half a liter of polish remover. In the end, though, my French manicure looked quite respectable. From afar. In dim lighting.

  While I was plucking the brows above my watery eyes, I thought for the hundredth time about what I should wear. A woman’s constant lament. My freshly shaved legs suggested a dress. Owning only three dresses limited my choices. And there were really only two candidates, since the third was my flowered beach dress, which was definitely not suitable for a big night out.

  In the end, I opted for my black sixties-style dress. I loved that dress. The halter top was very formfitting, and the bottom half was a swingy skirt that barely reached past my knees. The highlight was a broad bright-red belt that cinched under my chest. I had bought matching red pumps.

  Perfect!

  I looked at the time. I still had two hours, which sounded like a lot but might actually be tight. Because now that I’d made the clothing selection, I had to choose a hairdo to go with it. As my creativity was limited, this presented a problem, so I hopped online and googled rockabilly hairstyles. I was immediately inundated with thousands of pictures. It was overwhelming at first, but on the second page, I found an adorable updo that looked manageable.

  I took my laptop to the bathroom and got to work trying to follow the directions exactly.

  The keyword here: “trying.”

  By the time I got to the last step, I looked like a scruffy broom. Although I had used an untold number of bobby pins, the whole structure somehow listed to one side. My hair bore no resemblance to the picture, and the grin on the model’s face was starting to get on my nerves. I almost had the feeling she was laughing at me.

  Rats!

  I closed my laptop with a grumble and began removing all the bobby pins. That took a long time and really hurt. Once I thought I had gotten them all, I leaned forward and shook out my hair. I was about to reach for the brush when I noticed that all that teasing hadn’t been for nothing after all. My hair billowed voluminously over my shoulders and absolutely deserved to be described as a wild mane. Without further ado, I pulled out a broad headband and pushed the whole affair out of my face.

  Not bad!

  When I was finished with the hair spray, I was impressed with the result. I was less pleased, however, when I saw the time and realized I had to go in fifteen minutes.

  I frantically applied my makeup, concentrating mainly on the eyes. I lined them with a deep black color, giving them a smoky look.

  After that, I jumped into my dress and shoes, sprayed on plenty of my favorite fragrance, and slipped on some jewelry.

  Even though I was running late, I had to stop at the mirror to admire myself.

  Lena, you are a real hottie!

  And I really was. Even if I did say so myself.

  I rummaged in my closet for a matching red purse, stuffed my wallet and Vera’s gift inside, and hurried out the door in my red pumps. I didn’t even make it all the way down the stairs before I realized I was going to regret being in high heels, but as they say, beauty is pain.

  A short while later, I stormed into The Goose, a cozy Irish pub–style place, and wound my way past the many small tables to the birthday party, which consisted of Vera, Sebastian, and Frank.

  I was well aware that my twenty-minute lateness would not make me the hero of the evening and, in fact, only Frank seemed genuinely happy to see me when I arrived at the table a little out of breath.

  “Lena! Wow, you look great!” He greeted me with an approving look.

  “Thank you,” I grinned and curtsied.

  “You’re late,” the birthday girl scolded.

  “I’m really sorry! I had a little disagreement with some hairstyling directions on the Internet.”

  Vera inspected my hair critically. “Looks more like you lost a fight with a teasing comb,” she grumbled.

  “Well, yes. This is my attempt at salvaging the mess,” I explained, pointing to my head. “It was supposed to be an updo.”

  “Can we order now?” Sebastian griped.

  “In a second,” I said. I pulled the gift out of my purse. “First, I have to get rid of this.”

  Vera’s mood swing was amazing. No sooner had she seen the little package wrapped in flowery lilac paper than all her annoyance at my tardiness was forgotten.

  “Oh!” she gushed and jumped up with shiny eyes. “That wasn’t necessary.”

  Oh, sure it wasn’t . . .

  I ignored the cliché and embraced my girlfriend warmly. “Happy birthday!”

  “Thank you!”

  We released our embrace and I gave her my present.

  Vera held the package to her ear and shook it. “Hmm . . .”

  “Go on; just open it!” I demanded with a laugh.

  “OK.” With one movement, she ripped off the carefully taped paper. Immediately we heard a squeal of delight. “Season eight? Season eight?”

  “Yep.”

  “Yay! I can finally watch again. Listen, Sebastian, the DVD player is all mine for the next few days!”

  Sebastian seemed less than enthusiastic at the prospect of a Desperate Housewives marathon.

  “I’m hungry” was all he said.

  “Oh, don’t be a curmudgeon.” I tousled his hair. “Quick, let’s order before the poor guy starves to death.”

  Vera and I sat down. I had barely reached for the menu when Sebastian signaled the waitress and placed his order. I decided not to complain and just ordered a schnitzel by default.

  Once the order was in, Sebastian seemed to relax.

  Hungry people are all the same.

  “Soooo, Vera?” I asked casually. “Did your curmudgeon get you something nice?”

  “Oh yes,” she answered breathily and shot a love-struck glance at her beloved.

  “Are we permitted to know what?” I followed up.

  Vera waggled her fingers to call my attention to a delicate silver band.

  I examined it. “Wow, this is pretty,” I said, then looked up sharply. “Wait, do you mean that’s a . . .”

  Blushing, Vera nodded.

  “An engagement ring?!” I had to make sure.

  I looked at both Vera and Sebastian for confirmation before jumping up with a squeal and embracing my friend. “Congratulations! You’re getting married! Yippee! I’m so happy for you!”

  While I was practically suffocating Vera and dancing a jig, Frank patted his buddy on the shoulder and said, “Congratulations, dude.”

  I supposed it was my turn. I released Vera and turned toward Sebastian to hug him as well. “Congratulations! This is great!”

  I went on gushing for a while before I snapped my fingers to get the waitstaff’s attention. They were not amused. Despite their grim expressions, though, I ordered four proseccos. We had something important to celebrate.

  By the time I’d finally calmed down, the whole restaurant knew that Vera and Sebastian were getting married. They were both a little embarrassed. I didn’t care—I wanted the whole world to know that two of my best friends were going to be happy together for the rest of their lives.

  I grabbed my glass and proposed a toast. “May my darling friends love each other forever!”

  We laughed and drank to their hap
piness.

  “Did he ask you today?” I wanted to know after we had taken a sip.

  “Yes. It was so romantic!” Vera swooned. “He brought me breakfast in bed and put the wrapped jewelry box on the tray. When I unwrapped it, I just thought it was a beautiful gift—it was only when he got down on his knees that I realized what it meant.”

  “Oh, how sweet.” I turned to Sebastian, who was looking a little embarrassed.

  If they hadn’t been my closest friends, I might have been jealous.

  “Have you set a date?” asked Frank.

  “And what exactly do you have in mind?” I squawked. “I mean, are you going to have a small civil ceremony or do you want something big with a church and all?”

  Vera and Sebastian briefly exchanged an inquiring glance.

  “To be honest, we really hadn’t thought about any of that yet,” Vera confessed.

  “What?” I screamed. “What have you been talking about all day?” Vera’s red ears were all the answer I needed. “Oh right,” I dialed back. “Forget I asked.”

  The food arrived and the men immediately pounced upon it while we girls launched into a conversation in which every other word was some version of “bridal.”

  Bridal gown, bridal bouquet, bridesmaids, bridal car . . .

  There was so much to discuss!

  The more we mused about the dream wedding, the larger Sebastian’s eyes grew.

  “Boy oh boy, there’s so much we’ll have to consider!” he said in shock.

  I gently patted him on the arm. “No worries. Vera is going to plan the whole thing with me exclusively. All you have to do is show up and say ‘I do’ at the right moment.”

  He nodded, looking relieved. “I think I can manage that.”

  “I certainly hope so!” said Vera.

  Sebastian took her hand and looked deep into her eyes. “Believe me, darling. Nothing in the world could keep me from it. I cannot imagine a life without you.”

  Too sweet!

  A bit cheesy, but still sweet. I made moony eyes at the two and sighed heavily.

  Would I ever find a man who would say such things to me from the bottom of his heart? Or who I could say something like that to?