The men, and then the women, stood as we approached. When we reached the table, Chris went into charm mode. He shook the men’s hands and gave each woman a kiss on the lips. Then he made introductions. The girls looked as I had expected, but the men did not. I had created a picture of Mike Badger, given what Chris had told me, as a Falstaffian man—big and sanguine with a deep voice. Instead, Badger was small and slight and spoke as if he were talking through a reed. He appeared to be in his late fifties, with graying hair and bags under his brown eyes. George Denofrio was taller in height and larger in girth, but not by any means a big man. Chris was a big man. His stature usually dominated. It would be interesting to see how he acted when someone else was holding the cards.

He said, “This is my fiancée, Terry McLaughlin.” I stared at him and he grinned. “Dr. Terry McLaughlin.” He pulled out my chair and helped me take off my shawl. I sat between Chris and George Denofrio.

The women squealed out a chorus of congratulations. Badger wasn’t interested. Immediately he asked me if I was an MD.

“Excuse me?” I said.

“Are you a real doctor?” he said. “You could be a PhD.”

I remembered Chris’s words: loud and obnoxious. His brown eyes were focused on my face. “I’m an MD.”

“Where’d you go to medical school?”

Okay. We’re playing this game. “Loyola in Chicago.”

“Decent school. I went to Northwestern.”

Which is a higher-ranked university. I nodded. “Great place.”

“Especially for medical school. What’s your specialty?”

I looked at Chris, who appeared to be listening to the conversation. “I did ER/trauma. I haven’t worked in a couple of years.”

“Where’d you work?” he asked.

Really pushy guy. Chris was still silent. I said, “For a while I worked in Manhattan at several locations—Weill Cornell and Columbia/Presbyterian. Then I worked in Mumbai for a while.”

“Mumbai?” When I nodded, he asked, “How’d you get to India?”

I looked at Chris, who gave away nothing. I said, “Many planes fly there.”

An irritated smile. “Okay, I’ll rephrase the question. What brought you to India?”

“Same answer.”

Badger regarded Chris. “She’s a funny one.”

Chris raised his hands up in the air and shrugged. I didn’t know if he was throwing me under the bus for bringing up India or if he was just giving me free rein. His face was totally flat.

Badger persisted. “What was it like to work in India?”

I looked at Chris and then turned back to Badger. “ER is ER.”

“But there must be differences.”