Chapter 5: What…the…Fuck?
If Nash hadn’t already known that an orthopedic surgeon made considerably more money than a nurse—even one with an advanced degree—then that fact was driven home when he walked into the lobby of the building where Dr. Burlingham owned an apartment. It was tastefully decorated with comfortable seating arrangements in neutral tones accented by colorful abstract art on the walls, and several vases containing roses, lilies, and miniature carnations in soft autumn oranges, yellows, and creams. There were also a number of little shops that catered to the needs of the high-end tenants of the building. He headed toward the coffee shop/café Dr. B had named for their assignation.
Which was worse—making that first approach toward his blind date last night, or making himsel
