Chapter 6 Thriving Social Life

Irene didn’t see Dr. Warren for the rest of the week. Not that she had actively looked for him. It was an innocent observation. However, it was apparent Andy knew about their heated conversation in the hallway.

He greeted her one morning with a devious, knowing grin. “I hear Dr. Warren and you did a mating dance in the hallway the other day.”

She couldn’t hide the gasp of surprise. Kiki, who was eavesdropping as usual, threw a dirty look in her direction.

“How did you hear about that?” she demanded, keeping her voice low in warning. She was certain Talia was the only person who had seen them. And she had promised to keep it to herself. Had she ratted Irene out?

Andy’s answer was simple. “He told me.”

“He? Who is ‘he’?”

“The man in question, Dr. Warren, of course. Come on, Mon, its bright outside. Wake up!” He waved his hand in front of her face and she smacked it away in irritation.

‘He spoke about me? Oh dear… That can’t be good.’

“You talk to him?” she asked. She found it pathetic that she sounded eager. She should have pretended like she didn’t care about it, instead.

“We hang out,” he replied matter-of-factly.

And she was supposed to know that? She had not received the memo.

“Why didn’t you say something earlier?” she questioned, her tone accusatory. She didn’t mean to sound that way, but it would have been good to know that the man she had disrespected was good friends with her preceptor. It would have been more useful than the warnings against Kiki or the rest of the food related content.

Andy was utterly confused. “Should I make a list of everyone I hang out with?”

“Shut up, Andy. You know what I mean.” He shrugged. “So, what did he tell you?” she pressed.

“That he is turned on by the mere thought of you and wants to father your children.” His face was composed as he spoke.

Irene should have known better, but the thought of fathering her children brought some adult content to mind. The sort that had occupied her mind on several occasions that week.

She opened her mouth before thinking it through, “Really?”

She sounded embarrassingly hopeful. She wished she could rewind the clock to the moment right before the word left her mouth.

Andy snorted. “Nope. Not really.”

Irene blushed deeply. “Good. Cause that would be weird,” she played it off.

But Andy wasn’t fooled. He eyed her cautiously. “So, have you met many people around here?” he asked her, making her grateful for the change in topic.

“Just you guys. And my weird neighbor who I suspect has a stomach bug because he has been puking his guts out for the past couple of days. It’s alarming.”

Andy nodded, impressed. “My neighbors are rarely home so I can’t say I’ve had the luxury of hearing them puking at odd hours.”

Irene snorted. “I chose my apartment explicitly because of this. I was lucky.”

Andy’s tone was conversational and sarcastic at the same time, but she didn’t take offense. “Well, you have a thriving social life.”

Yes, she knew her social life was dry.

After work, she went home and could barely go through an episode of some series before passing out on the couch. On the days she didn’t work, she rolled around in bed, procrastinating while the unpacked boxes glared at her across the room. But keeping busy had left her feeling less pathetic.

“My couch has gotten more action, if that is what you mean.”

Andy wasn’t really listening to her. Or he didn’t care. “So, you aren’t interested in anyone yet…” he chimed in casually.

“Interested in?” she repeated, peeved by the sudden change in direction.

“You know, procreating and the steps before that.”

Irene groaned. “Andy…”

“Humor me, Mon. Has anyone caught your eye?”

Besides the arrogant doctor who hated her? No. No one else her caught her attention.

“No,” she lied.

“Good. I know someone who is perfect for you. Give me the green light and I will set you up with him.”

This caught her off guard. “I… I don’t do blind dates,” she protested. “Sorry.”

“That was past tense. Now, you do,” he corrected her. “How does Saturday night sound?”

“No, I am not doing this.”

“Okay, Friday night, then.” He paid no heed.

“NO, Andy—”

“Christ, Mon,” he exclaimed. “Go with the flow. You are off this weekend and you don’t know anyone in the city. I am not allowing you to rot on your couch every night. The least you can do is meet new people.”

Irene scowled at him, but she knew he was right. She did need to meet some people for her slowly slipping sanity. But if the date turned sour, she had violent plans awaiting Andy.

“Fine!” she threw her hand above her head in surrender. “But I won’t be enjoying myself.”

Andy grinned and an uneasy feeling settled in her stomach. “Oh, sure you won’t.”

.

Talia invited herself over to Irene’s apartment to help prepare for the date. No matter how much she insisted, Talia turned a deaf ear to her pleas. This was followed by huffing and sighing from her. She got more agitated as the minutes passed and she thumbed through Irene’s clothes.

“Why do you have a ratty men’s t-shirt when you don’t have a man?” Talia asked point blank, holding up one of Greg’s old shirts she had snatched during her last visit.

She tossed it to the floor and Irene lunged at it, clutching it to her chest like it was her first born. “I wear it around the apartment and dry it on the balcony. Do you know how comfy they are?”

Talia pinched the bridge of her nose, wondering if she could speak some sense into Irene. “What if a cute boy comes over?”

“I can’t imagine WHY a cute guy would come over,” Irene replied. Apart from those unbelievable p**n movies, that never happened.

“You should look cute just in case. You are single and you have to be ready when the opportunity strikes. Just in case,” she emphasized.

Irene guffawed. She had never put a lot of effort into looking presentable for men. In school she had studied, in college, she had studied some more, and then at work she had to look presentable and friendly to her patients. She had no more energy left to get up and dress up for men.

And what if she did? She couldn’t keep up and wear makeup and expensive dresses every day. So, who would the guy like? The polished version of herself that came out life a werewolf once in the blue moon?

Irene concentrated on her eye makeup, the only kind she enjoyed. She enjoyed blending out the edges, giving herself a seductive look that would be beneficial if the date was fruitful.

She was actually nervous. She trusted Andy somewhat, but knew him enough to recognize this man would do anything for a laugh. He could screw her over and set her up with failure if it means he got a good story out of it.