Free Neighbors by Ashleigh Royce Page A

shadow he dons these days looks good on him. Too bad he’s such a lying, cheating bastard. He’d be quite a catch if he wasn’t such a prick.
    “Hey, Mel,” he says .
    “Greg.”
    “How’s it going in the ER ?” Ironic that he uses the same line on me the first time he hit on me. Back then I didn’t know he hit on everyone in the hospital. I was too overwhelmed with his good looks and charming compliments to notice the whispered warnings from other female staff members.
    Is this his attempt at small talk? “Fine. How’s cardiology?”
    “Beating just fine .” Greg always uses some witty saying associated with his area of expertise. It’s his way of starting the conversation talking about himself, the great and mighty heart surgeon.
    He slid es his tray behind mine as I get on line for the cashier. “Say, Chuck and his wife are having a barbecue on Sunday. It’s just some of us from the department. Wanna come for old time sake?” Greg suffers from the delusion that every woman wants him, including me. He is sadly mistaken, at least in my case. I couldn’t wait to get rid of him once I found out about how he was testing his theory with every woman he could get into bed during our marriage.
    “Ah, no!”
    “C’mon, Mel. You know I can’t go alone.”
    “Thanks for the invitation, Greg, but I’m busy.”
    He laughs. “Busy? Yeah, right. Doing what? You don’t have a social life, Mel.”
    “I’m helping a friend paint.”
    Greg moves closer and his voice is low. “Oh, Mel. That sounds hot; two girls getting paint all over each other. Then you have to take a shower and scrub each other down. Maybe I should come with you. I can hold the soap and watch.”
    Gre g’s dirty mind never ceases to amaze me. He’s always thinking about some sexual situation, preferably where he’s the center of attention. I roll my eyes at his smug expression. And although he doesn’t deserve an explanation, I clarify for him. “I’m helping my new boyfriend paint his bedroom.” Greg’s face morphs into a serious stare. “But you know, Greg, thanks for the good idea. Maybe I’ll have to paint him so we can shower together. He likes it when I soap up his rather large…brush.” I say it so he understands the innuendo. “I’m sure it will take a lot of soap. He’s gifted in ways that you aren’t.” There, take that, asshole. “Thanks again for the idea, Greg. Have fun at the barbecue.”  I pay the cashier and lift my tray before flipping my blonde ponytail in his direction. A quick glance behind me shows Greg standing in the middle of the cafeteria wearing an astonished glare.
    I slam the tray down on the counter in the ER. Only Gladys’s eyes move up over her bifocals, away from the chart she’s reviewing. “Run into Greg?”
    “He’s such an asshole.” I try to whisper so the patients don’t hear.
    “Don’t let him bother you , honey. He’s just a little boy who throws a tantrum if he doesn’t get his way. You know he has statues erected in his honor in his own head.”
    “It’s just that he’s still trying to control me. He thinks he can call me to join him for social functions when his bimbos aren’t available. He hates to be seen without a girl next to him, or with the possibility that he won’t get laid.”
    “Don’t let him get to you,” Gladys says, handing me a chart.
    I know she’s trying to refocus me so that I’ll forget about what just happened, but I’m too upset by Greg to concentrate. I excuse myself to the nurse’s lounge down the hall. I take a cup from the miniature sink that’s in there and pour a small amount of water from the cooler. After a sip and a deep breath, I pour the rest down the drain. Then I square my shoulders and head back out toward Gladys. I’m fine after that.
    Mid-way through my shift, Greg shows up in the ER. He’s all business. I’m sure he doesn’t want to rehash the encounter from the cafeteria earlier. “You have a patient who came in