“No way.”

“Yes way.” Sharon poured a drink of water for herself and for Leticia. “Same guy.”

“What are the chances of that?” Leticia said with a grin, folding her arms and sinking down into Sharon’s couch.

Sharon had been discharged from the hospital that morning, and Leticia had taken the day off work to pick her up and bring her home. Her leg didn’t hurt, exactly, at least not most of the time, but it felt… odd. She was acutely aware that there was something different now, and there were times when she swore she could feel the rod inside of her.

She told herself that she’d get used to it. Just like she’d gotten used to college, and her new job, she would get used to this. It was just a matter of time.

After they had reached the apartment and Sharon had insisted on getting the water herself, crutches be damned, she had told Leticia that the Dr. Hardwick who had operated on her was none other than Ross, her fantastic one-night stand.

“I’m serious,” Leticia said, “What are the odds of that?” She pulled out her phone and checked something. “Yup, Google says that there are twelve hospitals in Pittsburgh, although a couple of them look like they’re divided into various sub-sections or something like that. Okay, so let’s say there are… however many surgeons per hospital…”

“Please don’t turn this into a math equation,” Sharon groaned.

“I’m just saying,” Leticia pointed out, “the probability of your surgeon turning out to be the same stranger you slept with the night before has got to be infinitesimal.”

“It was a little weird for me. I think he was fine, though. He seemed fine.”

Ross had seemed the picture of calm and support, but in a detached doctor way. The way that he should be, of course, with a patient. Sharon couldn’t help wondering what had been going on in his head during their conversation. Had he felt awkward? Guilty? Confused? Did he look forward to helping her, or was he wishing that she was somebody else’s patient?

“I don’t think you should worry about it,” Leticia said. She accepted the water glasses from Sharon, and then watched her critically as she hobbled to the couch. “You sure you got this?”

“I’m going to be working on this leg for a month at least, I need to get used to it. You know I hate being dependent on someone else.”

“Unless you’re in bed with them.” Leticia waggled her eyebrows and grinned wickedly.

Sharon glared at her. “Stop that.”

“What? Stop bringing up the fact that you finally had a tawdry one-night stand and admitted that you like being dominated in bed? Never.”

Something of Sharon’s insecurity must have shown on her face, because Leticia immediately sobered up. “Sweetheart, don’t worry about it. You said he was professional and he certainly fixed your leg up right. It doesn’t have to be awkward unless you make it so. You two had fun, but now you can move forward and maintain a friendly distance, just as if you were coworkers.”

Sharon shuddered. Having to work every day with someone she’d once slept with sounded unbearably awkward. Still, there was nothing to be done about Ross now. She would just be polite and friendly, like Leticia said, and it would all be fine. Besides, she wouldn’t even have to see him that much. He was her surgeon, of course, but she would see more of her physical therapist in the weeks ahead.

“I hate to change the subject to something more serious,” Leticia said, tucking a strand of dark hair behind her ear, “But are you okay with finances?”

That hadn’t even been a thought in her head until that moment. “Uh…” Was she okay with finances? Sure, the job at Hearts in Hands was new, so her health insurance might be a bit annoying to sort out but she was sure she was covered. Or was she, since technically she was at fault?

Leticia sighed. “Here, show me the bill. It can’t be that bad.”

“Oh yes it can,” Sharon replied a little more sharply than she’d meant to. “Sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean to snap. It’s just…”

“I know.” Leticia put a soothing hand on Sharon’s shoulder.

Leticia and Sharon had met in college, but they’d both come from low income families. Leticia’s parents had crossed the border from Mexico and started their new lives in the United States with nothing but the clothes on their backs, and Sharon’s mother had squandered all her father’s earnings on alcohol. Neither Leticia nor Sharon had needed to panic about bills for a couple of years now, but it was still a specter that haunted their thoughts, peering over their shoulders when taxes rolled around and when it looked like Christmas bonuses might not happen.

“I can look at it, if you want,” Leticia said. “I’m sure whatever you fear is worse than it actually is.”

Sharon nodded, turned to grab her purse—and realized something. “I haven’t been sent the bill.”

“What?”

She thought back. They must have sent it to her. She’d been in the hospital for a week, there was plenty of time for them to bill her. They should have at least spoken to her about it, but she couldn’t remember anyone mentioning it. That didn’t seem right.

“They didn’t bill me.”

Leticia’s eyebrows climbed up into her hairline. “Well, call them!”

Sharon gestured vaguely in the direction of her purse, and Leticia clambered over the couch to pass it to her. Sharon rifled through it until she found her phone. She dialed, followed the automated instructions to reach the correct department, and then waited until the receptionist answered.

“Hello, this is the Billing Department, Miranda speaking.”

“Hi, Miranda.” Sharon forced a smile into her voice. “I’m sorry to bother you, but I’m a recently discharged patient from the hospital and I was wondering why I hadn’t been billed yet for my operation.”

“Can I get your name?”

“Sharon Talcott.”

“Date of birth?”

Sharon rattled it off, then waited as the receptionist typed in the information.

“You had surgery for your leg, is that correct?”

“Yes, from a car crash.”

“Well, ma’am, it says here that your bill has already been paid.”

Sharon sat straight up. “What?”

Leticia leaned forward, concerned. Sharon could hardly breathe. Her bill had been paid? By whom? And why?

“Yes, ma’am. It says that your bill was paid in full yesterday by Dr. Hardwick.”

Sharon felt a little dizzy, despite the fact that she was already sitting down. “Th-thank you.”

“You’re welcome, ma’am, have a nice day.”

Sharon hung up, still feeling a bit like she was swimming through thick soup. Ross had paid for her operation? But why?

“Sharon? Honey?” Leticia took the phone from her and set it down, placing her hands on Sharon’s face to force her to look over at her friend. “Are you okay? What’s wrong? Is it more than you thought?”

“It’s been paid for.” Her voice sounded faint and distant to her own ears. “Ross, the—my doctor, my—he paid for everything.”

“Your one-night stand paid for your entire hospital bill?” Leticia leaned back. “Thank God, I thought it was something serious!”

“It is serious, Leticia, I owe him immensely for this!” Sharon tried to keep the panic out of her voice, but she didn’t think she’d quite succeeded.

“Hold on now, this is a positive thing. It means that he cares about you, doesn’t it?”

“Enough to pay my bill? It can’t have been a small amount of money. This isn’t like paying for dinner, this is huge.”

“Hold on.” Leticia picked up her own phone and quickly typed something into it. A moment later she snorted and flipped it around for Sharon to see. “Look, this guy’s practically a celebrity in the surgery world.”

Sharon took the phone from her friend. Sure enough, there were articles about Dr. Ross Hardwick, saying things like “miracle worker,” “groundbreaking,” and even, “the real-life Dr. Strange.” Minus the magic and arrogance, of course, Sharon thought to herself. And to think, this guy was a huge patron of Hearts in Hands, and she’d had no idea who he was. As head of PR, she should have been familiar with the names and faces of HiH’s top donors. As soon as she got back to work, she would need to develop a personal relationship with each of them.

Well, maybe not as personal as the one she had with Ross.

“This guy gives lectures, consultations, I mean look at it,” Leticia said, gesturing emphatically at the phone. “Big wigs consistently demand his services for routine surgeries. This guy is rolling in it. He can afford to pay your bills. It’s probably not even a big deal to him at this point, what with his salary.”

Sharon handed the phone back. “I still don’t know. It makes me feel beholden to him.”

“Well, he has to check up on you, right? Talk to him about it.”

“I don’t know,” she says again. Maybe she was just making a mountain out of a molehill, as her dad always used to say.

“Don’t do that, Sharon, don’t get all up inside your head there.” Leticia wagged her finger. “If it makes you feel uncomfortable, then you have every right to tell him so, okay? But personally, I see this as a sign that he cares about you. None of my hookups ever made me breakfast, never mind paid my hospital bill. He sounds like he could be someone special.”

“Yeah. Maybe.” If she could ever get past that strange aloofness… maybe.

It was such a large and caring gesture, and so at odds with the emotional detachment Ross had displayed after sleeping with her. He had been sexually open, yes, but emotionally closed off. How could such a cold person do something as unexpectedly thoughtful as this?

Sharon didn’t know what to think, but Leticia was right—she had to talk to Ross.