Undeniably Enemies: Chapter 5

The sterile smell of the emergency department hits me, and I force out a sigh. He followed me into the freaking women’s locker room, and if I stand here a second longer, he’ll exit, and we’ll have to face each other again. No thanks.

My hair and feet are still wet, but the rest of me is dry, and I’ll take that as a win.

I’m on scut, which means the dregs of medicine, especially as a medical student, but it’ll still be good for me since I’ve already decided that emergency medicine is what I want for my specialty. I apply for which residencies I want in the next few weeks and will be matched in early March. But I’ve already decided I want to stay in Boston, and with that, I want a level I trauma center that does both pediatrics and adult medicine, so my choices are limited.

And unfortunately, my top choice is this hospital, which means I’d be stuck with Jack. I’m not thinking about that yet. That’s a March Wren problem. Not an October, fourth-year medical student one.

I’m not sure where to go. I don’t even know who my intern is, but I’ll be damned if I ask Jack.

“Hey, Wren,” someone behind me calls out, and I turn to find my cousin Layla. She works as a part-time doctor here, and her husband, Callan, is the chief. “You look a little lost.”

“I got in late, and I don’t know who my intern is.”

Her head tilts. “Didn’t Jack tell you?”

I shake my head. I don’t want to get into the particulars of this. Not with her. Layla is great and a lot of fun, but she’s also my friend Katy’s adoptive mom and, therefore, quite a bit older than me. Plus, she works with Jack, and I know they’re friendly.

“Huh. Strange. I think I saw on the board you’re with Daffy.”

“Daffy?” I thought everyone here went by the formality of doctor. Hell, I was already Miss Fritz.

“You’ll understand what I mean when you meet her. She’s doing fast-tracks and is probably waiting for you.” Layla turns my shoulders so I’m facing the other way. “Come on. I’ll show you.”

I follow her, scanning the large space as I go. My stomach churns as I remember the last time I was in this ER. I didn’t have time to focus on it this morning because I was so late. A fierce pang of nerves hits me square in the chest. The ER is no joke. It’s life or death here. I should know.

“You get used to it,” Layla comments as if reading my thoughts. “The ER is a lot. I worked down here the summer before my fourth year, and I both loved it and hated it. That’s the ER. You both love it and hate it. But it grows on you like an incurable rash, and pretty soon, you can’t help but crave the high it gives you.”

“I’m starting to learn that,” I muse as we pass the nurse’s station and various patient beds. Layla gives me a quick, abbreviated tour—since I missed mine this morning—and with it, I’m finally starting to feel better after being late and my run-in with Jack.

“Dr. Blooms, this is Wren Fritz, your fourth-year.”

A short, curvy Black woman with shoulder-length, tight black curls and deep, dark-brown eyes smiles at me. “Hi!” she chirps, reaching out and shaking my hand. “I’m Daffodil, but everyone calls me Daffy. Dr. Blooms in front of the patients, though.” She winks at me. “I was wondering about you. It’s great to meet you.”

“Thanks. You too!” Wow. So not what I was expecting for an ER intern. I always thought they were bite your head off, no fucking around, we eat our young people. She seems like the best intern to be assigned to ever, and I can’t imagine Jack did that intentionally. It had to be random.

“I’ll leave you in Daffy’s capable hands,” Layla says to me, her hand on my shoulder. “It’s good to have you here, Wren. I’ll check in on you later.”

“Bye. Thanks.” I give her a grateful smile and turn back to Daffy, who’s already talking again.

“I got a text from Dr. Kincaid telling me you’re on scut today.” She grimaces, though I notice she blushes when she says Dr. Kincaid. “Whoops. Probably not a great way to start, huh?” She waves that away before I can respond. “Don’t worry about it. We’re doing fast-tracks, which is more of a glorified urgent care. We do things like minor injuries, colds, flus, strep throats, things like that. Anything that isn’t ‘emergent.’” She puts air quotes around the word. “It’s actually one of my faves, so we’ll have a great day together.”

“Sounds wonderful.” I smile, more of my nerves ebbing.

Daffy doesn’t quite put me on scut, though she does have me run specimens and do the testing myself instead of having a certified nursing assistant known as a CNA or even a nurse do it. It’s fine, though. I’ve never done this before, and I figure it’s all a good experience. Margot, the chief nurse and one of my mom’s best friends, walks me through how to do all the things I don’t know while we laugh and joke with each other. Sometimes, being a Fritz and having your entire family work in this city—many of them in this hospital—has its benefits.

Add to that, I haven’t seen Jack more than in passing, which automatically makes it a good day. Despite the rough morning, the rest of the day wasn’t so bad.

But as I step out of the locker room, changed once again, this time out of scrubs and into a cute top and jeans, I spot my people, who are here for me, talking to the asshole. At the end of the hall, Katy and Keegan, who are my cousins, and my best friend Tinsley are laughing with Jack.

Ugh.

To engage or not to engage, that is the question.

Thankfully, the decision is made for me as they wave goodbye to him after noticing me and head in my direction. From over their heads, Jack catches my gaze and holds it. I give him a withering glare that he quickly returns. It’s so odd to me that I once looked at him as if he were the end-all-be-all of men. I had daydreams about our eventual wedding, doodled Wren Kincaid on notebooks, and felt my heart flutter anytime his name was mentioned or he simply entered a room.

He destroyed all that, and now he’s the last man I could ever imagine fantasizing about in any sort of romantic way. Murder and mayhem, maybe, though. It still creeps me out that we shared that drink together, but I think at this point it’s clear there will be no ‘til death do us part unless we kill each other.

I toss him a wink because I can be saucy like that, and he rolls his eyes, turns in the opposite direction, and walks off.

“Really, ladies?” I greet my friends. “You laugh with the enemy?”

“Uh, maybe if you explained to us why he’s the enemy, perhaps that wouldn’t happen,” Katy throws out at me. “Although for me in trauma surgery, I have to deal with Jack constantly, so that’s likely not going to happen regardless.”

“I have told you. Some people just don’t like each other. That’s me and Jack. He thinks I’m a spoiled brat, and I think he’s an arrogant asshole. It’s mutual at least.”

Tinsley, who obviously knows about our situation, holds up her hand. “Whatever. I don’t care about you and Jack. He took good care of Forest when Stone and I brought him here, and that’s all I care about. Can we go out now? I have to pack, and Stone is waiting for us at the restaurant and already texted twice asking where we are. He’s clingy like wet satin because I leave for London in a few days.”

Tinsley is now engaged to Stone, her ex Forest’s older brother. I won’t even get into the drama that caused.

“Yes. Let’s go,” I agree. “I need food and a strong drink.”

The moment we step outside into the chilly fall air, my phone rings, and just as I go to reach for it, some jerk riding an electric bike on the sidewalk tries to snatch it from me. He misses, only managing to knock it from my hand, but it goes flying and crashes to the ground.

“Asshole!” Keegan yells after him, half chasing him down the street while I bend to survey the carnage. I lift my phone from the damp sidewalk and hold up the shattered screen.

“Of course. Because why should today end any better than it started?” I puff out an annoyed breath. “Anyone want to stop at the phone store?”

“I’ll help you,” Tinsley offers. “But first we eat.”

We cross Congress Street to get to one of our favorite bars that just so happens to be across from the hospital. My friends and cousins, Stone, Vander, Mason, and Keegan’s twin Kenna, are already here waiting, and Stone throws his hand up from the far back table to get our attention.

I drop into a seat next to Vander, who gives me a head nod and a half-smile. That’s not uncommon from him, though. He’s a cybersecurity CEO by day and one of the best hackers in the world by night. I swear the dude is suspicious of everyone.

“How was your first day?” Mason asks, handing me a menu.

“Good. Fine.”

Tinsley rolls her eyes at me and relays my spectacular morning to everyone who didn’t hear it on the walk over.

“We’ve all been there,” Kenna offers. “When I was a med student, I passed out during a C-section.”

Keegan, who is an OB along with my parents, snorts. “And you will never live that down.”

“Whatever.” Kenna throws a piece of pretzel bite at her. “Those are gruesome. I didn’t expect everything on the inside to be on the outside. And you’re one to talk, Keegs. As I recall, when you were an intern, you barfed all over your attending’s shoes.”

I snort. “You mean my father’s?”

She shrugs. “I had food poisoning. At least he’s my uncle. That made it better.” She pats my shoulder. “Just don’t puke on Jack. I doubt he’ll be so forgiving.”

“With me? Never.”

“This is why I’m glad I’m not a doctor,” Mason quips, and Vander reaches across the table to give him a fist bump. Mason is an NFL quarterback for the Boston Rebels, but our families are very close, and we’ve all grown up together. Sometimes I question the decision to be a doctor, but when pretty much your entire family is comprised of doctors and nurses, it’s just what you do. Plus, I love medicine. I had a lot of fun today. That’s what I have to focus on.

Two hours later, Tinsley’s arm is wrapped through mine, and Stone is on her other side, less than amused to be doing this as we waltz into the phone store.

“I thought you had to go home to pack?” I question.

“She does,” Stone states bluntly. Yeah, he’s not handling her leaving to shoot this film in London well.

“Packing will happen. Phones are a necessity. Yo, my girl needs a new phone.”

I throw Tinsley a side-eye. “You’re not helping me. Who says yo?”

“Bitch, I’ve had three margaritas. What did you expect?”

Solid question.

“I’ve only had one. Life of a working medical student. But I need a working phone.”

“Hi, I can help you.” A guy comes scurrying over to us, only to stop dead in his tracks when he sees Tinsley.

“Oh, I just bet you can.” Tinsley winks at him, and I nudge her with my elbow.

“Jesus, little rose, really?” Stone groans.

“What? More flirting, more… I don’t know. Maybe it was more tits more tips, but that only works for bartenders and waitresses.”

“You’re Tinsley Monroe!” the guy exclaims, utterly starstruck.

“Yes.” She smiles brightly at him. “Hi. It’s so nice to meet you.”

“And this is Wren Fritz.” Stone steps in front of him, blocking Tinsley from his view. “She needs your best deal on a new phone, and I need your eyes off my fiancée.”

“R-right,” he stutters. “Absolutely. I can do that.”

Tinsley jumps around Stone. “Wait. Does she get a student discount? She’s a student.”

I roll my eyes at her. “No more margaritas for you.”

“I second that,” Stone agrees.

I turn to the guy, ready to get this over with and get home. “My phone fell, and the screen broke. I think I’m due for an upgrade anyway.”

“Okay. Um.” He continues to throw Tinsley looks, blushing every time he does, only to catch himself when Stone gives him a death glare. “I just need your phone number.”

I give it to him, and he pulls up my info on a tablet.

“Is it possible for you to transfer the stuff from my old phone over to my next one?”

“Sure. Let me see.” He taps a few more buttons before he frowns. “Your phone is almost completely full.”

I scrunch my nose. “Full? How so?”

“You’ve used nearly all your storage capacity. I can transfer everything over, but you’re going to run out of space very quickly. I’d suggest going through your phone and removing anything you no longer want or need on there. Like old apps, contacts, and pictures.”

Tinsley and I exchange glances. I haven’t gone through my phone in at least ten years, if not longer. I just kept transferring the stuff over every time I got a new one. But he has a point. I probably have my high school boyfriend on there complete with pictures of our entire relationship, and that dude was an asshat.

I snatch the phone back from him and start to go through it, though it’s tough to see with the screen cracked this badly. A whole chunk of glass is missing from the top where the camera is.

“Wow. I have all the apps I used in college and when I lived in Seattle, about fifteen different games, six or so coffee places, and that’s just on the first page of my home screen…” I trail off, my eyes rounding. “Damn, and over sixteen thousand pictures. Considering I can’t remember the last time I played any of these games, I left Seattle over three years ago, and I don’t talk to most of the people in these pictures, I do need to clean this out. But there’s way too much on here for me to do it right now.” I glance up at him. “Can you just transfer it all over so I can go through it when I have time?”

“Absolutely.”

The guy works his magic while Tinsley, Stone, and I wander around the store, and she sings. Thankfully we’re the only people in here. Otherwise, I have no doubt that it would be all over TikTok. Twenty minutes later, I’m handed a pretty new phone that magically looks just like my old one.

I thank the guy and pay for my phone, and as we’re walking out into the cool, dark, Boston night, Tinsley leans into me and whispers, “The guy was right. You have to go through it and delete old stuff. Not just so you have more storage on there. I didn’t want to say anything while we were in there, but it’s so important. It’s how my old manager-turned-stalker still had access to me. I didn’t even realize it.”

I wince. I often wondered if my ex had access to my phone. A lot of the things he did suggested he was reading texts and things, but I don’t know.

“Vander wiped my stuff, and I bet he’d do the same for you.”

“I don’t want Vander to go through my stuff. I’m not a famous pop star, just a lowly med student.”

“You’re a Fritz princess, Wren, and you need to wipe your phone.” Tinsley gives me a meaningful look. Stone doesn’t know about my ex, but Tinsley certainly does, and she’s not having my bullshit.

“She’s right,” Stone agrees. “Just tonight at dinner, people were taking pictures of us.”

“Because of Mason and Tinsley,” I protest.

“And us,” he states emphatically. “How many people have tried to get close to you or be your friend just because you’re a Fritz billionaire?”

I automatically frown before I can stop it. That was the story of my high school friendships and relationships. College wasn’t much better at first, even when I traveled three thousand miles away to escape the Fritz celebrity status that rules Boston. It’s partially why I waited so long to lose my virginity. I nearly laugh at that when I think of who I gave it to. Jack may be an asshole, but he didn’t fuck me because I’m a Fritz and have a trust fund bigger than the GDP of many small countries, whereas others have tried doing just that.

Yet another reason why I’m single with no plans to change that.

“I’ll clean it up tonight,” I promise them.

And after I say goodbye and get myself home, I start to do just that. I delete about fifty old apps, cancel three subscription services I don’t remember signing up for, clean up thousands of pictures and set up a cloud storage for the ones I kept, and dig through my contacts. I can’t help but laugh at some of the old texts and things on here from college and even back to high school, but they have to go.

I get rid of the ones I don’t need, and while doing that, I find three people with numbers I don’t recognize. They’re not saved contacts, but for whatever reason, I texted with them.

The first one, it seems we exchanged hi’s, but that’s it, and it was seven years ago. I saved it, though, and I can’t remember why. The second had texted me, “Hey, baby.” That was three years ago, and I think I might remember who this one is, so… delete. The third is also a “hi” person, so I text both one and three back hi. I could probably just delete them, but I saved them, and that was likely for a reason.

Neither one nor three responds, and I shower and get myself ready for the next day. It’s just before bedtime that my phone pings with a response from number one.