She had been lucky to be assigned the lymphoma clinic early on, because she’d immediately hit it off with Emma and Kiara. If it weren’t for Emma, she doubted she’d ever leave her house other than for work. Even though it sometimes took convincing to get her out, she usually enjoyed herself.

Lauren chose a black top that went with jeans, finishing the look with a pair of heels. She grabbed a dark gray cardigan and stuffed it into her oversized handbag, anticipating that the October evening would turn chilly as the night wore on.

The low-key pub was in the River Market district, an up-and-coming area popular with young professionals. McNellie’s was one of Lauren’s favorite places to go, because it felt more like a place to hang out with friends than a place to see and be seen. The décor was eclectic, the servers were friendly, and televisions were mounted throughout, playing whatever game was on that night.

Unsurprisingly, Lauren arrived before Emma. Punctuality was a habit Lauren couldn’t seem to break, despite knowing that Emma would be ten minutes late to her own wedding.

Lauren found a two-person high-top table near the bar and ordered a beer while she waited. She took a sip and her gaze roamed around the low-lit room. Several yards away, a man wearing a fitted long-sleeved navy shirt and jeans leaned casually on the bar. His shoulders were broad and his brown hair was just barely visible underneath a worn baseball cap on his head.

From the back, he looked an awful lot like Andrew. Without conscious thought, Lauren straightened, a vibration of excitement zipping through her. Just as quickly, she pursed her lips and scolded herself for her reaction. She forced herself to look away, focusing on the basketball game playing overhead. Yet her eyes kept drifting down, hoping he’d turn so she could really see him. Was it…?

“Sorry I’m late.”

Lauren jumped at the sound of Emma’s voice and twisted around just as her friend hopped onto the stool beside her.

“I’m used to it by now,” Lauren said.

Emma laughed and reached over to rotate the bottle of beer. She regarded the label and made a face. “I don’t know how you drink that stuff. I need a cocktail.”

As Emma opened the drink menu, Lauren glanced at the bar once more.

The guy was gone.

She looked around but didn’t see anyone wearing a navy shirt and a hat.

A server approached, and Emma placed her drink order.

“Thanks for coming out,” Emma said. “I really need to let off some steam. This week was rough.”

“It was,” Lauren agreed. Clinic had been packed full with new patient visits, and they’d received the sad news that two of their patients had passed away. “I must have written twenty chemo orders this week.”